Oh, nothing, just walking around eating watermelon...
Who else put on 2 pounds over Memorial Day weekend? *woot!*
I'm blaming the giant salad.
And it's BACK TO WORK! Yes, I actually worked this morning, on real work stuff. And I liked it.
My internet got so slow over the weekend that I couldn't get on multiplayer for about 24 hours (I was privately blaming it on space weather Chance of Storms on Memorial Day, but it was probably more local on either my end or the server end), so I went to my friend's private realm and got silly building a diamond house in a forest that keeps flaming up from lightning strikes and a lava bed spewing little sparks. At first it looked really cool, but that wore off pretty quickly. There's probably a reason we don't go crazy with house colors in real life, like maybe overload on the brain or something. Anyway, it's actually 3 stories tall now, so that roof you see became a floor.
In the meantime, documenting ponytail length. My hair is thinning out again, but at least not in patches, probably from a couple of med dosage changes. It has seemed a bit dramatic to me, but I don't think most people would be able to tell. That weird 'lump' on my ear is a piece of rogue cartilage. If it laid upright and flat instead of laying over, I'd have proof that I'm half Vulcan. Btw, still my natural hair color. My mom was completely gray and going white-headed by this age.
Movie gang got back together over the weekend, was super fun. I got a few snips, these click back if you want to make them bigger.
Anyway, we experienced a strange and very rare lack of Bunny bomb on Memorial Day weekend, so for the first time in maybe our entire marriage we actually did nothing for 4 days straight. By nothing I mean no driving around (except briefly to the local cemetery), no shopping, no visiting, no grill, no jaunts off to theme parks or the swimming pool or anywhere else, just a lot of TV and yard work and #napclub. Yes, we had sex. Yes, it was noteworthy. We also had awesome chili cheese dogs (I inhaled my dogs with sauerkraut), lots of bacon, a little pan of brownies, taco and Italian nachos (not mixed), and giant salads.
I'm getting so psyched. Star Trek is one of the extremely few franchises I'll still go suffer a real movie theater over. Star Trek Beyond
The closer I tunnel to 0,0, the faster and more horribly I suddenly die, and every time has been lava. I'm a seasoned lava pro now, how is this even happening? I was on an empty ledge, working downward very slowly, super careful, collecting coal, and suddenly- what? I couldn't tell if I I fell or what, but suddenly everything was gone, the world was black, I was on fire, and I couldn't even see a direction to try jumping out of the flames. It was like the void opened up and swallowed the whole game.
So, naturally, that means it's time to get a cup of coffee and plan my next move. I'll need to dig out my amulet now and summon my flying horse, and it'll take 2 minecraft days to fly back to where I last went back down underground. I didn't dare try to /back after respawn. I did that about 500 blocks back, someone had a portal tucked into a niche partway up a ladder out of a tunnel, and I got sucked into hell so fast, actually tumbled down a hill and got beaten to death immediately by a gang of flame horse thugs, and I was stupid enough to /back and do it all over again.
How's your Memorial Day weekend going? lol
Batman is really liking pre-K so far (he just turned 3), which is wonderfully surprising. He's spent several months preparing with integrative therapies. I wish they had all this when I was a kid, or when my sploit (Batman's mama) was a kid. My brother was more into the rocking thing than I was, but my 2 sisters seemed to be more interactive and compliant and got along a little bit better, although I remember my youngest sister having kind of a hard time at first. Since we were no different from how my dad grew up and the kids he'd seen in his family growing up, no one was really concerned (except when my brother 'refused' to read for awhile, no one knew I simply couldn't read at all until 2nd grade, and my daughter refused to make any letters except Os so she spelled her name OOOOO for awhile when she started school). Pretty much all of us snapped into program right around 2nd grade and suddenly started reading and handling school better, but for me, kindergarten and first grade were nightmares.
Bunny is still the circus kid gogogo just like her mama before her and her Papa before that and her great granny before that. They're just as genetically wired as my family, but differently. They're super integrative socially and catch on quickly to new things, but they're also so creative and innovative and easily bored that school is too slow for them, having to go slow and absorb is challenging.
It's been very interesting see opposite ends of the neuro spectrum coming together as a family, and the coolest thing that's ever happened to us as a group structure. I think what a lot of people don't realize raising kids on either end like that is that they've got high IQ people on their hands, and there is no real difference in the smarts, just the life approaches. One way is methodical, the other way is practical application, and when you put the two ends together, you get a LOT of problem solving done if you know what you're doing. The key is being familiar with the concept of neurodiversity in the first place.
I've been on UK time all weekend, so I've been up ridiculously early 3 or 4 days in a row now. Since 4 a.m. is my usual time, you can imagine what I mean by ridiculously early. Some of my night owl tweeps were just going to bed when I got up.
I didn't date in high school, which I brought up in asexual pan and seriously lacking gaydar or any other kind of dar, which turned out to be a pretty popular post. I am asexual, and the first thing most people do when they hear that is ask why in the world do I care about a gender debate if I'm not interested in sex in the first place?
I'll skip the entangled layers for a few seconds to tell you what actually happened.
There were 3 brothers in my high school who didn't look at all rough and tough but were the toughest, meanest boys you ever met in your life. They 'picked' so mercilessly on gay boys that one of them actually dropped out of school and fled the state. By pick, I mean bloodied the hell up within an inch of his life.
I had absolutely no problem being friends with gays (trans wasn't used much as a descriptive word back then, so everyone got lumped into 'gays', or 'homos', even if it wasn't technically correct). I had no problem whatsoever sitting by them in class or at lunch, being seen talking to them, and generally being a friendly part of a subgroup of people I didn't really fit into, but I didn't fit anywhere anyway.
Those 3 boys had a big problem with it. I didn't say much during high school, despite my family thinking back then I was a bit of a whiner. I never told on people to faculty, never whined to friends, and never started fights. I was one of those true loners who mostly never talked.
I stood on the front lines in high school for alt gender, probably not so obviously to most people around me, but very obviously to the gays. Because I didn't take hints or react to remarks and comments and showed no fear of notes and being hissed at in the hallways, I took full body contact in P.E.
The day I was plowed to the ground so hard in flag football that I was nearly knocked unconscious by the brother that was in my grade was the day they ended coed flag football in my school. I couldn't breathe for awhile and had to have help standing, and was dizzy the rest of the period, and later discovered I had some pretty spectacular bruising and scraping. But I didn't cry. That boy was sharply reprimanded, but nothing else was done, even though he obviously tackled me on purpose with full intent to harm me. I mean, who doesn't get flag football?
The day I was smashed in the face with a 90 mph ball and my glasses shattered and my nose exploded into blood everywhere, that same boy (who'd just thrown that ball only a few feet from my face) stood there laughing. That was the last day we had coed P.E. in my school, period. Again, he was barely reprimanded, and nothing was done. I went without glasses for several weeks until my parents could scrape up the money to get me another pair.
I was very popular with the alt kids that year. The ones having free period would sit on the bleachers and loudly cheer my name every time I walked into the gym. My parents never knew. I never told my siblings. I never once talked to one person about how someone attacked me. I didn't whine or blame or cry.
Now, let's untangle the "why in the world do I care about a gender debate if I'm not interested in sex in the first place?"
My own first thought is, I wanna ask all you people who are worried about trans in the wrong bathrooms something- Is it wrong for a man to intentionally beat up and bloody a woman in public just for not behaving correctly after being threatened? Because that's what happened to me. I'm a girl, and not even gay. I was not just bullied, I was beaten bloody for being friends with gays, not in secret, but wide out in the open in front of a lot of people.
If it's not ok for a man to hit a woman, is it ok for a man to behave that violently to another man just for walking into a bathroom? Because it happens. A LOT. Men have been beating up other men in men's bathrooms so badly for so long that many men actually fear for not only their safety, but sometimes their lives. Why are these men being beaten up? Because even if they don't present as female, sometimes they just 'look gay', and that prompts mean men to pummel the living bloody daylights out of them, just like it did in high school.
So, men use women's restrooms. Why? Because women don't tend to beat them up just for needing to pee.
I use men's public restrooms. I very openly walk into men's restrooms when women's restrooms are closed for cleaning, and no one bats an eye. No one beats me up. I can be wearing men's clothing and no makeup and look as 'dyke' as they come, and no one bothers me.
So why is it ok to make laws that allow men to be attacked even more in public restrooms? They already fear men's restrooms, now they have to fear women's restrooms, as well.
So, first of all, just because I'm asexual doesn't mean I don't care about sex, but SEX has nothing to do with using a public restroom to pee, does it? Gender ID and sexual preference are two completely different things anyway, so that is just really poorly worded. Second of all, I CARE because people are being BEATEN UP. By 'nice' people. By people who spout all kinds of stuff about 'Murican freedom and Christianity. By people who get worked up about the kind of nonsense that gets people hurt and killed.
The reason I'm writing this out is because I'm getting some comments on a facebook status I wrote- "First hand experience considerations that I think laws against Trans in public restrooms would inadvertently cause great difficulty for many people is single parents with opposite gendered disabled children and older people relying on a spouse for help. I'm sure there are other situations as well. Sometimes gender has nothing to do with actual public restroom safety."
Scott was a single parent for 3 years before we got married, and he had custody of his baby daughter. He often had to take her into a public men's bathroom, and was always terrified someone would think he was a child molester. My mom became so deficit from strokes that my dad would escort her into the women's bathrooms in Walmarts to assist her, and although it felt weird to him, not one single woman complained about it. What woman wouldn't want a husband like that? I sometimes see family restrooms now in clinics and other places, and hear people mock them as they pass, making jokes about why whole families need to pee together, how wrong that is. Well, do you know nothing of handicaps and seniors and children and stuff like illnesses and injuries? I've been having to use handicap facilities for years because of spinal injuries, and for a couple years in my own home needed actual assistance. If I ever need my husband to come into a bathroom with me, people around us making a big deal had better hope I'm in too bad a shape to get in their faces about it.
I have no answers to the public restroom debates, but I will offer that it's nice to live in a country that believes in public restrooms in the first place. Some countries still don't. As for your reasons for why trans shouldn't use the 'wrong' public restroom, have a little consideration for 1- all the other people who will be affected by laws put into place out of fear, 2- the fear alt genders live with every single day everywhere they go, and 3- your inability to think outside a very small box. Many of you have been using restrooms with trans for years and probably never even knew.
My brain, like my body, doesn't 'work right'. The chemicals and hormones don't fit into an 'average' balance. I don't experience life the same way 'normal' people do. Am I to blame for being born into a gene pool heavily laced with autism spectrum, autoimmune illnesses, cancers, and hormone problems? I've been living with everything from joint pains throughout my childhood to diabetes into my aging adulthood. Does this body, something I have no natural conscious control over on a cellular level, make me a bad person? Does the t-shirt I wear instead of a blouse make me a bad person? Does who I am standing here being warrant me getting beaten up? Because I sure was bloodied up in high school by a 'nice' young man with a very strong moral principle that somehow failed to red flag 'men shouldn't beat up on women' in his mind.
What I'm saying is that you can't stand both against violence and for it. You can't stand up against domestic abuse and condone public restroom abuse. You can't say it's not ok to hit someone here but it's ok to hit them over there.
Human rights, human dignity, human public safety.
That is what the trans public restroom debate is all about, and that's what it stands for globally. It's not about genitals and being in the wrong bathroom. It's about people being bullied, beaten up, and even killed just for being different, even when they're doing their best to not start any trouble.
I'm not afraid of trans people in the same bathroom as me. I'm afraid of people who will hurt me in public and laugh about it just for being kind to other people, and the people who won't do anything about it because they're more afraid of the bully than they are of the trans person. THAT'S WHAT THIS WHOLE DEBATE IS ALL ABOUT.
I don't care what your religion is and what your beliefs are, if you are dismissive of others and cruel to people over silly ideas that you make big fusses over, I do not stand with you. If you believe it's ok to hurt (and kill) other people just for believing something different from you and looking different from you, and you base everything you think you know about life on glances without getting to know what it's really like in other people's shoes, then you've got a real problem when I walk into your room.
Back in high school I didn't say anything. I'm saying all the things now. I could be out here naming names, I could be naming and shaming, I could be pointing and accusing, but I'm not. I'm asking people to think it through. Untangle the layers and use your brains for a few minutes. Because from my point of view, not using your God-given brain is a sin. If you want to debate actual sin with me, I will win. I was trained to debate religion by one of the most obsessed people on the planet by the time I was ten years old, and I've spent all my years since soaking up everything I can about world religions, philosophies, political history, heck, the history of the whole human race since the dawn of time and the evolution of modern day thinking. If you're not yet familiar with me, I enjoy a little Orwell with my breakfast, and that's just the start of my day.
Here's the point blank of it all. People of faith are the only ones required to follow God's law. It's not your job to punish those outside the faith. It's not your job to condemn the world to the point where you drive even your own loved ones out of your lives. Your job is summed up in the golden rule, is it not? To wish death and harm on others without provocation means there is something wrong with YOU.
Waking up at 2:30 a.m. from a dream where I promised someone I'd order and raise 49,511 chicks (49,511???) into layers for them and then realizing in my dream that I had no money for capital and investment for the chick order, the feed they'd require, the building I'd need (I've lived on a farm with long, empty chicken houses from the previous owner, so I already have a clue), plus the hardware (feeders, waterers) and the electricity and all the gadgets that would entail, and dang if I didn't come full awake actually doing math.
I was insane thinking that plan to tunnel to 0,0 from the -8000s would be a cinch. I can tell you things about acres of lava and miles of cobblestone that would make you hate minecraft forever. I think the game is psychic, it can feel when I'm my most frustrated and disgusted and spawns big gobs of ores to run into, and alla sudden I'm getting 50 blocks of gold and diamonds and all the other stuff around them. I ran into someone else's settlement that turned out to be part of our own township that I had no clue existed (I died in lava and temporarily lost my "/back" to home base, so I popped out on top to see the countryside for a few minutes, talk about total coinkydink), and way after that ran into someone else's super long unclaimed tunnels that for some reason left all the coal intact and never seemed to lead back out anywhere, which got boring real quick, so after I nabbed the coal I just kept plowing my own path through the bottom of the world.
I kept seeing this guy die over and over in the chat log, cracked me up, finally had to get a screen shot.
Anyway, I'm in the -2000s now *dull cheer*. I am getting super rich, though. I've got so many blocks of redstone that I'm thinking about building a Chinese restaurant. I mean, I NEVER see anyone build with redstone, it would be pretty awesome. And I've got 3 double trunks of cobblestone, so I'm thinking about paving the valley between the village and my evil lair and going crazy building a mall or something.
I've gotta get back into the tunnel. Be careful with your grills, guys. (Memorial Day weekend in the States.)
I made this in '08 or '09 by rendering a screenshot of the carpet pattern in the hotel lobby of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas I've been Yablo since the Sprite commercial first aired. Yablo is alive and well deep in a tunnel somewhere in the MoCreatures server. omg they have a mug all the yellow words are linked
I seem to have stopped dropping my phone every single morning. Poor thing still has the case all taped up together around it. Finally hit the spot in my neck that is apparently putting the squeeze on a piece of nerve like a big bad mafia boss. My therapist had me doing twisty things with my neck I haven't been able to do voluntarily in years.
So now I can do chicken tricks! I can bend my head around and see the world in whole new ways! Yesterday, for the first time since I moved into this house, I backed into the driveway actually looking back at the driveway over my left shoulder. O_O srsly, right? Wow, just discovered wry neck is a real thing with chickens. I've lived with chickens all my life and never once seen a single wry neck problem. Well, that made me feel sad... Now I'm going to dig through my photobucket and look for stuff to cheer me up.
And that quickly escalated into ducks...
@bonenado has brought up the subject of painting. It's not a solid plan quite yet, but we might spend the weekend with me finally stripping out the kitchen and him finally repainting the ceiling after all the whole replacing the roof thing. Things will get interesting if he winds up going down the walls. Good thing I planned on chili dogs this weekend. Guess we'll see what happens. Nothing's ever set in stone around here.
Memorial Days get weird for me. I'm usually 'left behind' while other people do cool fun stuff, so I try to stay busy. One of my toughest Memorial Day weekends looked like this, pure oily sauteed more than boiling hot mess. That's right, I dropped a pan. I have no idea how it didn't melt the linoleum or even splash on me and burn me quite badly (I've seen second degree burns from hot oil fires in the kitchen, very healthy fear of getting burned!), but I have dropped so many things in my life that I've learned to jump and dodge as soon as I feel something start slipping (that becomes automatic when a knife literally stabs you in the foot). I remember I cried a little because I was home all alone and already in so much pain and barely able to bend well enough to even clean it up, so I tried to cheer myself up taking pix and laughing about it.
It's ok, that wasn't as bad as 2012 when I went off the rails during the supervised double hormone crash and then came back out public the next month.
Memorial Day weekend is really stressful for a lot of people, and just yesterday, Twink tried calling 9-1-1 for a fight that broke out in traffic right behind her, guys jumping out of their vehicles right there in traffic and duking it out, and no one was answering. I'm sure their phone bank was swamped with calls. This time of year really sucks for tension and traffic and all kinds of social pressures and people trying to get off work and whatevers.
I've done a few flashbacks of different times of year, but I don't think I've ever done a flashback of Memorial Day weekends. So here is Memorial Day through the years. Bluejacky was born on a Memorial Day weekend.
Yeah, wasn't writing much in public yet back then. What I wrote privately on May 28, 2007 is sad (not because of death or anything) and I'm probably never going to share it with anyone, but I will share this bit about the chickens.
I'm perplexed with my chickens. Last fall I tossed two strange chickens into the coop which resulted in one of my original girls getting beaten nearly to death over a week's time. Things settled down over the next month as the new hens got better food and more freedom. When one of the strangers died this winter, leaving only 3 hens, there was no movement for leadership, no matriarch was established. Now Luella, the stranger who had done all the vicious beating, has chicks, and the tables have suddenly turned. You would think that her being a mom, on top of her past history of abusing others, would establish her as the lead, but surprisingly, Marzipan, my most peaceful chicken, has turned into a monster, and not only pounds her, but goes after her chicks as well. There is definitely discord when they are penned up together, to the point of Marzipan not even letting them eat. You'd think that letting them out to graze would solve the problem. Nooo... Marzipan just waits for Luella to come sort of near her with her chicks, then drives them apart. It's like she delights in making it difficult for Luella to take care of them. Fortunately there is plenty of space out there and they rarely cross paths, but it happens, and I'm watching Marzipan go from sweet to arrogant and having a hard time with how I feel about that. I'm all for having chickens who feel tough enough to defend themselves and their territory, because they are literally surrounded with danger where we live, but to delight in the abuse of another isn't cool. As much as I hate to admit this, I'm really looking forward to getting rid of Luella and the chicks when I take them to Dad's next month. And I will never, ever, EVER mix a flock again. They are having a good Memorial Day, though. I bought fresh corn on the cob yesterday, went out awhile ago and husked some. Very exciting! They love fresh corn. And later they'll get watermelon rinds. That's about as close to chicken cake and ice cream as it comes.
A fox solved the Luella problem a few days later. Salut to the political karma of nature. The chicks were fine, sent them to live with Dad, they flew up into the trees to roost, and then owls got them. *sigh* I saved pix of Luella and her chicks here.
May 27, 2008 our selves
I won't repost that since it's public and you can click to it, but I was starting to slug them out and I wasn't holding back. Little did I realize at the time that Bluejacky had spawned an Aspienado.
Privately I wrote "picnic and pie". It was a typical stupid big family weekend because people were crabby again, and I met my ex son-in-law, and we were staining the siding for the Quackerdome, our chicken house. I'd love to share, but our dirty laundry gossip is insane. (I sometimes joke about being recompensed for all my emotional sufferings with a best seller after a few people croak off, but I seriously say that in jest.)
May 2009
Publicly I was still ranting about new Trek. Privately I was withdrawing off years of very addicting medications in a desperate effort to get some control back over my life. I'd been granted full disability and was declining so quickly that I feared complete nerve fail (I was mimicking every symptom of CNS lupus except strokes and seizures). I wound up needing a 'rescue' because I was incorrectly withdrawing from a very long term benzo med and went into DTs, which can actually be quite dangerous. This is an example of my ignorance.
Anyway, yeah, this withdrawal has gotten really interesting. Last evening I started feeling like I was being nipped really hard in random places off and on, as if a deer fly were biting me. If you haven't felt a deer fly bite, think fire ant, sorta in the same intense get-your-attention category. Then it felt like something was crawling through my hair and nipping my scalp a little here and there, thank goodness I'd already looked up withdrawal symptoms, so I wasn't too bothered and just kept doing what I was doing, ignored it. It wore off after about an hour.
But this also happened, in case you like weird gorey nature stuff.
I've deemed this next story a little too gory to go on the chicken blog, but we've never seen or heard anything like it, and I've gotta tell it.
Earlier this afternoon Scott and I were sitting out on the deck in between rains, nearly got involved in an epic woodpecker battle. They're called red bellied woodpeckers, but this is what they look like.
Anyway, there's this super aggressive one chasing another one from tree to tree and around our deck, when out of one of the trees comes a fledgling of some kind, made it across the yard to the gutter at the edge of the henhouse. The second it landed, that aggressive woodpecker was all over attacking it, and even picked it up by its head feathers in its bill and flew down to the grass with it. A male cardinal zipped down and met it on the lawn, and as the woodpecker was violently spiking the baby's brain with its long bill, the cardinal was trying to drag it off and actually got it off the ground before the woodpecker snatched it and carried it into the cherry tree. (I had NEVER seen or heard of birds carrying babies in flight, and I saw it twice with two birds in only a few seconds.) The cardinal flew after it but was too late, and there was horrible crying in the tree. Scott went out to see what happened, came back with the bloody dead baby, still didn't have much in tail feathers, but enough wing feathers to fly. At this point I have to go back and mention that 3 cowbirds, 2 males and a female, also zipped down to the lawn and witnessed the whole thing within a foot of this fight as though they were intensely interested, but didn't get involved. So we're wondering if a cardinal family raised a cowbird baby, and the cardinal tried to save it, and the cowbirds were watching because they know where they put all their eggs and keep on eye on things. Anyway, we looked the baby over, and it was undeveloped enough (and we're not educated enough) to identify whether it was a cardinal or cowbird, even couldn't tell by the beak, still too wide and babyish.
We've been wondering if this super pecker is the reason why we haven't had any orioles or hummingbirds the last few days (we've seen him hanging on a hummingbird feeder slurping up the juice), and have mutually decided Scott needs to pop it with the pellet gun. If it was targeting a baby cowbird, fine, but if it's targeting ALL baby birds making first flights and driving other birds away from the feeders, he's got way too much testosterone and too much time on his hands. He's as bad as having a stray cat in the yard.
May 2010
Privately- I was able to start watching TV again after several years of nerve problems (ears, eyes, severe headaches), so I rambled about a couple movies I'd seen and whatever. I was on the right track getting off meds, and even though my demeanor was perking up a little and things had started looking funny again, I don't have anything public for most of that year. Kept kitchen and laundry done up all weekend, then made a punkin pie for Grampa next door (war vet, and thanx for all the fish, as it were) and a lemon pie for Scott. Funny how a person can keep forgetting they don't have a mixer, eh? I never whipped a meringue by hand before. Never really got to a fluffy peak stage of any kind, but made it to the white and glossy thick stage and decided that was close enough. Cooked up real purty, tastes just as good, just looks like a flat sheet of toasted marshmallow crream. Sorta makes you wonder how in the world the French invented all this whipping up stuff, because way before we had electronics they were whipping up fancy things, and I'm getting this scenario in my head- one geeky pimply French kid apprentice is battling it out with another geeky chef wannabe, Oh, yeah? Well, watch THIS! and he whips his little bowl of cream an extra 10 minutes till his arm nearly falls off, a sous chef walks in to yell at them and gets distracted by the fluff in the bowl....
May 2011
The year EVERYTHING changed, thanks to a new doctor who took my whole being very seriously instead of just trying to throw pills at me. I started a 'spaz' blog and wrote my problem with healthy food. If you are strugging with diabetes, start there. I'm doing pretty awesome with it nowadays. I still wasn't owning my public self yet back then, but I was done being just private. On Bluejacky I was throwing silly surveys out right and left- 3 things survey. And on my private blog I was writing about sitting outside in 100+ degree weather to get away from the whole house reeking of fresh stain while Scott stained the siding. Kinda noticing a pattern... staining a chicken house, staining our house, maybe painting in my kitchen on ~gasp~ Memorial Day weekend!
May 2012
This is about the only thing I can share from my private blog from Memorial Day weekend that year, and I had gone underground again, so there was nothing public until I erupted back out in June on twitter and July on my original blog.
What a thrilling snake year we are having! First it was the monstrously fat king snake in the quacker dome, and yesterday it was a 6 foot black snake being disturbed enough by Scott's drilling to come out from under the quacker dome and zip down to the woods. The underlying problem seems to be a very extended family of mice that is apparently thriving enough to keep said snakes not only interested, but very well fed. So we're doing the mouse traps, have already caught two mice inside the quacker dome, prolly have a hundred left to go. And then Scott is going to have to put chicken wire up around what's left of the big pen that doesn't already have reinforcement before we can move new chickens in there.
A little over a year later, I finally wrote on syfydesigns about what was going on underground in 2012 just before I came back out public. That thread has 12 posts and over 3000 views, which is partly because I think people can relate. It's the first time I say anything really REAL about myself to public after years of being a behind the scenes fandom website owner. I'll paste the important part over. It's still just a hint at this point, but I've since confessed that I 'broke' into bubble worlds and couldn't tell which bubble was real during a medical crisis where 3 different specialists supervised me over 2 months crashing down 2 different hormones, which does really weird things to brains. During this time, I spent a week seeing and talking to a child I'd lost as if I'd never lost him and he'd been in my life all along. 'Waking up' from that was about the most depressing thing I've ever been through.
I'm not going into the details here, but I should have another kiddo in my life about Colin's height, looks, and just a wee bit older. I used to wonder how fans get so 'insanely' attached to actors and the characters they play, well, I had a chance to learn that last year for myself. It's very personal stuff, but sometimes something happens and you break a little, and you patch over with a borrowed bandaid and keep it together. As I went through this myself, it finally made sense to me what I was seeing in other fans who get a little more intense than is probably psychologically healthy. Fortunately I knew exactly what was going on with me and had help and I'm doing very well, but not everyone gets that. I've already written articles on the benefits of mythology in our lives, the way we use stories to help us figure out who we are and how to handle problems and decision making, but soon I'll be writing more from my new experiences.
May 2013
Both daughters were pregnant, I was getting ready to fly to Houston (my fear of flying is about claustrophobia), was on at least 2 different cancer watches, and had started public blurbing at SyfyDesigns a few months before the big Xanga server move, and that year I published pix from a family reunion. I also got silly and posted Stargate Pie on my original Lexx blog. Through it all I felt like I was hanging on by my fingernails to a crazy rollercoaster ride. It was marvelous. It was the most exciting my life had been in years. It was also wildly depressing in so many ways, and I'm really not sure how I got through it, except that I was determined to stick to producing public content.
May 2014
I had completely stopped private blogging. On Memorial Day I published the Drew Carey show tunes post on my first public Pinky blog, and the day before on SyfyDesigns I confessed my severe arachnophobia, and shortly after I was stalking Mike Bilinski.
May 2015
Wow. there is no U in aspienado Fully integrated public Pinky now. Dealing with all the things. Confessions left and right and going places I never dreamed I'd go as a public person. Breaking open and really starting to heal in mind, body, and soul for the whole world to see. Owning my stuff.
And only a handful of people know the full circle I've come and what I'm not saying behind all this. I've said elsewhere that everything I've done on the webs was inspired by one person, and everything I've become on the webs was motivated by another. Neither one knew any of that.
But back to Memorial Day weekend! I have absolutely nothing planned beyond chili dogs, assisting @bonenado with whatever, and tunneling my way through MoCreatures. I hope I get a few naps and some good TV- OH!!!Zoolander 2 is finally on Dish, definitely want to watch that this weekend.
Real life- I mopped my floor yesterday. I'm not sure what came over me but I kicked into high gear and tore into this house. I think part of it is we're breaking through another wall in physical therapy, and my energy level is coming up. Paying for it today, though. It's taking forever to patchwork this one together in between lots of breaks.
This playlist has been my go-to all week for motivation. Most of it is pretty upbeatish.
And if you're having a really stupid Memorial Day weekend for whatever reason, here you go, some really good bad mood music.
I started this Monday morning and came back to it through the day.
R.I.P. all-time fave sock.
I've never had a memorial for a sock before. I would wonder if I've gone off the deep end except I'm at home around bedrock already.
So last night. SPOILERS.
"Hodor".
Imagine experiencing your death many years before it ever actually happens, never ever ever being able to talk about it, and then someone else experiencing your death with you both at the end of your time and the time when you lived it during a massive seizure. And then every single time something bad happens in between the seizure and the final end, it triggers those memories of previewing your death, and you suffer PTSD the rest of your life over something that hasn't even happened yet.
"Hodor".
That got me. That was such a brilliant idea, brilliant writing and filming and acting.
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One of those coming back to this days. I just woke up from one of those super detailed dreams where you know something is another way somehow, and you do everything in your power to not only remember it in your dream, but actually find it again, and then go wow, yeah, I remember doing this, and it goes on and on, and then you wake up- none of it was real.
When I was at my glitchiest after the brain fail and time order flew apart and memories became elusive, I had dreams about losing and looking for stuff, and one of the most difficult types of dreams to deal with was knowing I had another blog or page or something 'out there' and I couldn't remember the web address to find it. Since this has really happened because blog hosts and websites are fluid and flutter in and out of real time like leaves on a windy day (I've lost Yablo's House on AOL hometown, which was 7 or 8 pages of interactive fun, plus a geocities site I dearly wish I'd been able to screenshot, plus others), anyway, since this really happens (some of you saw me go through the Xanga server move and how terribly depressing it was), waking up from one of these dreams is ~difficult~. Pretty sure anyone who's lost all their junk in myspace or suffered facebook problems totally gets this. It's depressing.
Well, I just woke up from one where I had finally found one of the neatest pages I'd ever made, and I was so happy. I was finally able to access it and was thinking about moving some of the content because the ads had overtaken everything and my own content was so far down my own page that it didn't even show up until you scrolled, which meant half the visitors probably thought the crap at first load glance was my content and it wasn't. And I remember saying in my dream- "You can tell what's really my stuff because my blogs are ad-free." I woke up and rolled my eyes...
I like excavating around the ores, like an archaeologist gently lifting bones out of the earth
I haven't mentioned this in awhile, but have you noticed Pinky blog really is ad-free? And that I don't have any kind of button or link to paypal or gofundme or any other kind of donation page? (Ditto on my Lexx blogs.)
Google analytics recently let me know that this site is too big for the crawlers and I need to set up a site map. This blog is now well over 600 posts long, and I don't have a single ad anywhere on it. I've never monetized. Every link I put on this blog is my personal recommendation or link-back to someone else's content that I get neither paid nor compensated for. And this blog is worldwide.Kewl.
having way too much fun with lava challenges
But that dream reminded me it's the time of year for me to get ready to pay for my ad-free stuff on Xanga, which includes my original Lexx blog. On top of some of the ad-free investing, I've got 4 domain pointers. All of this investment comes out of pocket because I consider my blogs a hobby, not something I'm doing to make a living. I do this for me because it helps my head to writewritewrite and play with code. Blog hosts that insist on interrupting this process don't get used much, unless I'm using them for something else. WordPress is set up for gravatar verification and not much else except place holding and private content archiving. Maybe one day I really will have staff and open up the WordPress blogs in all their imagined glory, but for now, we wait.
I do wish my dream had been real. I wish I really could get all the content back I've ever lost. It's bad enough to have your blogs and websites closed out from under you, but even worse to delete your own content and then regret it years later. There is nothing more PTSD triggering on the internet than settling down roots in such a transient environment. I've even lost everything dear in an interactive gaming site because I didn't know it was beta created by a genius kid. Lately, Minecraft has updated, and now I'm nervous as hell that everything I've built on a 60-player server will be dumped before the end of the year because it's all outdated now.
lol, looks like Christmas season
You see why I get so many screen shots and vid captures now? Imagine not only losing the game you love because it shut down, but losing your memories of it. Thank goodness it was temporary, but the attempts at memory reconstruction have been nightmarishly depressing. I think I mentioned last fall that I was finally able to reconstruct a fairly accurate time line of ten very scrambled years in my past between severe PTSD over those memories and then the brain fail during a nasty viral illness hitting my nervous system.
It can all go *poof* at any time, every bit of it. Memories are the most precious things we have, next to living relationships, and the most fragile part of our existence in this world. All our silly squabbling over politics and opinionating over what we believe are nothing compared to being able to recognize someone we love, smell something lovely (I love the smell of fresh made alfalfa hay in the field), and taste our food. I've lost smell and taste for months at a time, I've nearly lost vision, partially lost a little hearing (and lost my ability to sing on key because I went tone deaf in one ear), and I'm still fighting not to lose what I can feel in my hands. I think I've mentioned the year my entire head, face, sinus, and even throat suddenly went numb. It's very unnerving. (Get it? haha)
I don't sweat the small stuff. Every day I'm getting through something, but one of the most important things you can know about me on the internet is that I will never ask readers for money. I write because I love to write, I share because I believe it's important, and I pay because that makes it more fun for me. I take ownership of my own content.
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Now it's Tuesday afternoon.
Ok, here's what's really going on with all the deep mining pix. I get these weird association obsessions because that's the way aspienado deals with stuff. A friend is moving this weekend, has about a 20 hour drive, and I guess this is kind of my way of being there in spirit. While my friend packed, I purged and organized all my minecraft chests and stocked the store because it made me feel like I was helping. And now that we're down to the cross country wire, I'm obsessively digging my way through the bottom of the world to a destination myself. Our township is pretty much in the -8000s longitude, and I have this weird curiosity to see whether I can follow a latitude line underneath all the things to the original world spawn point, which is 0,0. My latitude start point is -510 and I'm trying to stick to it as much as possible at a 5 block level up from absolute bottom of the world. I've been circumnavigating very dangerous lava beds and water, and part of what I hope to run into on my journey is 1- a stronghold, 2- a mesa biome, and 3- like I said, world spawn point. I've been watching the coordinates and designated biomes move past above me, have taken a few notes of places of interest I'd like to go see when I'm back out on top, like the ice mountains biome. I've already tunneled completely under two different oceans and several very different biomes and haven't yet run into a single other demarcated township through which I would technically be griefing if I kept tunneling without going around. I'm in multiplayer, so I'm really surprised I've had all this untouched wilderness to myself, and I'm seeing wonders no other eye has seen. I'm also getting really, really rich. I'm plowing through some pretty sweet ores down there. Anyway, I've got at least 5000+ more blocks to go to get anywhere near zero longitude, then I turn and zero down on the latitude. After that, who knows, I might keep on going for awhile. Something to do in between chores while I'm counting down to Memorial Day weekend.
This is from a week ago. It clicks to source, which clicks to this clip. I've spent the whole week thinking about this.
I don't fish for compliments, but I do take them seriously because I'm a difficult person to be friends with even on good days. A few lurkers have also let me know that they get what I'm doing and they're glad I'm doing it. In a very mixed up world, so many of us get lost in the dark, and like so many of my own lurkers now, I spent years sifting through the webs on very long dark nights and very sad empty days looking for little lights that let me know I'm not alone- I'm not alone feeling sad, I'm not alone feeling scared, I'm not alone feeling lost. I'm an autism spectrum super spoonie who has navigated blindly through terrible loss and frustration and anger, rebuilding my world tiny millimeter by millimeter up what seems like a very steep and jagged mountain looming over a nasty chasm. I know the ins and outs and angles of depression very well. I know how easy it seems like it would feel sometimes to just let go. I know how hard it is believing that hanging on is the right thing to do.
Pinky blog is a map I'm working on, the path I'm finding little by little up my mountain, and I share it because I believe that what I'm figuring out about how to survive is good and healthy for not just me, but for other people, too. I believe it's important to share what we learn, the joys and pains that helped us learn, and the hope we find in ourselves along our daunting journeys. It wound up turning into a love letter to a lost friend, and continues to grow now that we've been reunited.
Depression comes to us all in some form sooner or later. There is no contest over whose is worse or where it falls on a grading scale as simply sadness versus a diagnosed chemical imbalance. Depression is depression is depression. Sooner or later we all experience some level of depression, because we all live in our brains and we all experience life.
It's very important that we not tell each other to be quiet about our stuff, or to pretend everything is ok when it's not, or to make a game of self harming or self medicating for attention. Over this last year I had to make a very hard decision about disassociating from people who have quite severe depression in my opinion, but who have become so toxic that they think it's funny or 'right' to corrupt others around them into fellow self harm for the sake of words like love and friendship. It can get pretty twisted up, and since I've been there, I get it, but I cannot keep saying it's ok just because I'm friends with someone. I have other friends sinking in quicksands and stuck in quagmires who watched me try to keep my balance doing that, and in the end, all it did was hurt other people I care about, mainly lurkers teetering on brinks. Being a public person on twitter has consequences we don't always see.
If I'm part of hurting other people through ignorance and neglect, thenI am part of hurting other people. One of the saddest things I keep running into in the entertainment industry (which now seems to include twitter and blogging) is the idea that we must play the game to get brownie points, because someone 'above' us has some magical power that will wash down onto us if we do that. NO.
Everything we do in a spotlight sets examples to other people. I've been a very bad example a number of times throughout my past. I even nearly got a young man (and several others, if I think about it) killed because I was such an idiot. What brought us together was sadness. What blew us apart was self medicating to the point of neglect of our own safety. What we really needed was words.
We needed to hear I love you from people who made us feel bad. We needed to hear kindness from people who used their own emotional messes to manipulate us for their own reasons or beliefs. We needed to hear forgiveness and gladness when all we seemed to get was accusations and fault finding. We ran away to find each other, and everything only got worse because we didn't know how to start saying new words, so we found them in drugs and alcohol, and in very loud places where people wink at the way newbies are used up like new toys while people are reassuring them they love them.
I won't go into again how and why I found myself wrenched away from that pit of human despair, but I will say find your words. YOUR words. Not someone else's words. Don't get into the habit of repeating other people's euphemisms and catch phrases. SAY YOUR WORDS. We are here on this earth to say words because nothing and no one else alive here can. (We make up stories of animals and space visitors that can talk because we dream, but WE are the ones with words.) It's up to us to get this figured out. And if you can't say them, then type them, paint them, sew them, build them, create the things you see in your heart because you love them. Live your words.
But never tell someone to shut up when they are telling the truth.
If you don't like the truth because it opens up your own can of worms that you hide, you need to be dumping those worms out and turning them into words yourself. If you don't like the truth because it exposes something you keep secret, you need to stop either creating secrets to keep or holding secrets that others tell you to keep. If you are part of creating lifetimes of sadness in other people, you need to look into what is so broken in yourself that you would keep breaking more people. But pretending everything is ok isn't the solution to anything. I see far too many people doing that.
The best television is when we see characters tear themselves open and reveal truths, or discover truths, or fight for truths. But in real life we get addicted to TV shows and self medicating because we don't live our truths. Think about that.
The coolest people on earth, I think, are the ones who rip themselves open and shred themselves apart looking for ways to share how to see truth. The best entertainment on this earth is that which pulls us into that emotional abyss that makes us really feel something. But the most ironic thing about ALL of it is that the entire industry rests on real people keeping secrets, and the viewers using the merch of industry as a catatonic because they're afraid to deal with real truth themselves.
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Now it's Wednesday morning.
I haven't been able to decide whether to post this or not, rewrite it or not, possibly delete it or not.
"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams." Some of you know this from Willy Wonka, but he was quoting Arthur O'Shaughnessy.
“We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers,
Upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers,
Of the world forever, it seems.”
I got this snip on 2-5-16.
The witch thing in the title came from a dream a couple nights ago. Silk touch is used to enchant tools and weapons, and I've been thinking about making another silk touch pickaxe for removing ore blocks intact and using them as part of my evil lair construction. 'Distressed' ore just looks cool. I wish they had purple ores for amethysts. I think the witch thing came from me getting blasted in the face with potion again the other day, and as I was staggering away I accidentally hit inventory and noticed there was a little ball and chain emblem and a countdown going on for 'slowness'. No wonder I can't seem to win a witch fight, I'm in slo-mo. Good grief.
I'll be very curious to see if the 'Frontier invasion motif' adds history to what comes after the Enterprise series. For old and new fans alike, let me remind you that the entire series rests on Vulcans first discovering humans in First Contact, and as we watch developments throughout the Enterprise pre-TOS history series, we see humans and Vulcans struggling with precedents and rules about noninterference and very accidental, very dangerous and destructive (to Earth!) involvement because there is a race out there that is greatly offended about humans showing up and exposing their secret design to control the galaxy, and they use time as a weapon in ways that not even Doctor Who could fix. Enterprise (the series) does a very nice job setting up for TOS, and since Justin Lin is a huge fan of the entire franchise, I really hope he continues this filling in bits of ST history.
Ok, that got my blood pumping this morning. I'm kind of Schrodinger's cat today, playing phone tag about an appointment that got moved and just missed the office last night, so I hafta be ready first thing this morning for just in case whatever. Got a great start on my new list stuff yesterday and then fell right into #napclub and next thing you know, the day was gone, but hey, at least I actually made a The Flash live tweet, yay!
Storm rolling in and might hafta unplug. Time to get moving.
When you're stuck in a cave in and need to log off and think I'll just /back when I get on later and when you log back in the next day you stand around in the dark going where tf am I?
When you wake up all super stiff and can barely bend and then remember you fell off that cliff the night before and go oh yeah, that's it.
When you rediscover an old project you started two months ago and think someone screwed with your stuff until you remember that's what you were working on. Day 639: Down to my last torch. Broke the wooden pickaxe I got off the werewolf to kill a snake. Ate rattlesnake egg for breakfast.
Did you see that? Cleric over there totally hitting on me. Watch this, I'll put a door up and make him crazy.
Giving sheep hay and watching tiny lambs pop into existence makes everything better again.
Slowly getting my scattered life organized again. Got my new list going. I've got 10 blocks a day marked out, keeping in mind that I usually have 12 hours a day to fill and half the time those days go off the rails with appointments and Bunny stuff and hitting walls (one block is 'nap', lol). But it's very different from the regular course schedule I used to follow. I've still got my work out time and tech work time and stuff like that blocked out, but I added actual reading because my eyes, arms, and hands are doing so much better now that I'm able to hold a book for short bursts and actually stay focused longer than a page at a time before I'm forced to move around again. And I'm a speed reader, so imagine the multiple nerve fail that goes into holding a speed reader down to one page at a time. This is where I'm able to gauge actual real progress in getting a somewhat normal life back. Worth 4 years of pain and work outs? YES. I'll probably have to keep doing physical therapy maintenance the rest of my life if I want to hang onto this level of control and capability.
Ran into a way shorter vid of just the chandelier that I got before I put a table beneath it.
I was very surprised to run into this, just happened to have the video running for something else. And the sound is working! You can hear the MoCreatures bugs and animals! (Pets don't attack, otherwise I'd have had to kill a few things.) Anyway, a couple months ago this was a really cool town, loads of cool stuff, and it's already been de-towned and someone is stripping it out. Griefing is a very egregious crime, so I don't dare take anything myself as long as people who own those chests are still logging on. I went back later on and I think that stone bridge is about gone now, too.
So I've spent a LOT of time in the mines this week looking for more gold for this kind of stuff, lotta gold detailing in my nightclub. Ignore the clutter, I've got areas marked out for construction crews.
So the days fly by while I'm down in the dark to the point where I'm starting to think like a dwarf in LOTR/Hobbit stuff, and I look up and see the sun.
And I'm so thrilled to see it grow into a golden sky above me.
And later on, no pix, sorry, I walked through clouds of diamond, and that's when I knew I'd become a dwarf. No wonder they are such a poetic people. And now this is always how I'll see the clouds. I walk through clouds of diamonds in a golden sky.
I had a cool dream about redstone, something about coding, but I don't quite remember it. Isn't this a cool visual, Galaxie Gurl in the heart of the earth.
Anyway, I'm also putting together a content production list. I used to do that too, I just never mentioned it. I had goals set for each week or month, so much content for this or that site or blog, and no matter how rough I felt or how stupid the week was, I stuck to my work schedule. It was very good discipline, even if all I got done was something short and silly. The key to writing is the same as the key to physical fitness, you need a work out plan and goals for your brain like you do your body.
I want to interject that I've noticed a BIG change in my head since I started minecraft, because when I started it was very overwhelming, and y'all know I've talked about my very glitchy memory. Learning minecraft was every bit as much work as learning anything else, maybe even more, because I've had to learn an all new way to use my keyboard, really hit the hand/eye coordination (nervous system workout!), worked through a lot of real time response (actually had a few anxiety attacks just playing minecraft, and I think I'm resetting my fight or flight default down a bit, yay!), accomplished some really big tasks that required planning and strategy and overcoming obstacles and stuff going wrong, and as I've played through the last 4 months I've been able to gauge how well my physical therapy is going overall by the duration and tolerance changes in being able to sit here and focus through the game. A private friend can attest that I started out barely playing half an hour at a time, and I was doing it through optic nerve pain, ulnar entrapment pain, and arthritis in several parts of my spine. I've come a long way in 4 months, and I've worked very hard in physical therapy to be able to even just play minecraft, so all y'alls who take gaming for granted and blow it off as a waste of time, suck it.
There is so much stuff I don't tell you guys. I'm able to pass for normal because I want to. I have a will of steel and I can take so much torture because I've already been through so much worse. But it's nice to be able to enjoy something for a change.
Here's a truth I have never said anywhere. When I type in black and white in the editor and then flip to the colorized preview, one eye still nearly goes blind for about 10-15 minutes. Actually, flipping back and forth is when I notice one eye has already fogged out in the black and white. I still have a lot of difficulty with black and white. There's no eye or brain damage, but I'm living with nerve damage that is still healing from illnesses, and there was a time when the ONLY thing I could read were colorized blogs (and that's how my Lexx blog was born). I've said that part before, that I make colors on black blogs so I can read them. What I haven't said is that one of my eyes still throws fits when I try to force it to synchronize with the other eye in black and white. I couldn't read a book for around 3 years without taking off my glasses and shutting one eye and reading one sentence or paragraph at a time and then having to shut the book. I read an entire novel one page at a time with one eye when my vision started coming back 'on' correctly. My opthamologist swears there's nothing physically wrong with my eyes, but to this day, since 2004, I nearly go blind in one eye just reading my own writing in an editor because the nerve keeps shutting down, so it's a really big deal when I say I think playing minecraft has been good for getting my eye coordination back.
My head is kind of all over the place this morning, and for some reason there was a running imaginary convo in the background in my head during my shower that suddenly screeched everything to a halt. Someone had asked me Who's the most famous person you've ever met?
I'm not a celebrity chaser, don't really put stock in getting twitterpated over someone just because they've been somebody, but that was a good question. A few names pop into mind, but they're no big deal because it's not that uncommon around the Branson area to say you've met this or that person, or seen them somewhere. I let my mind wander around all the memories and it finally settled on a big house my family was invited to when I was a very little girl.
His name was Tom Bolack. I had no idea who he was, but he had the creepiest house I ever set foot in, filled with a variety of beautifully taxidermied animals that you don't even see in museums. I looked a black panther in the face, and it looked every bit like it could see me and was about to bite my head off. I walked by a stool made out of an elephant's foot and couldn't believe that foot was bigger than I was. I refused to sit on it. You can read about his mission on his museum page. Despite disability from injury and a difficult life, he strongly believed in the preservation of ecosystems and devoted both his private and political life to conservation. His private collection, said to be one of the largest in the world, is now part of the Bolack Museum of Fish and Wildlife.
People who devote their lives to investing and sharing things they learn have always fascinated me. And that leads me to the truly most famous person I've ever met in my life.
Do you remember when Lucy (Australopithecus) was a big deal? That was decades ago. Lucy was my introduction to the very big world of anthropology and archaeology. That was my passion in college. One of my professors in college was Juris Zarins just before he became world famous, and my top fave out of all my teachers. He arranged for us to meet someone very special coming through town one semester...
I know this is going to sound funny to some of you, because I live in an area where saying you've met the Osmonds or Yakov Smirnoff or Andy Williams is no big deal. I've met Richard Leakey. And not just met him, actually shook the guy's hand and laughed with him about his tie, which was covered in homo habilis skeletons.
I grew up not really paying attention to who's who, where I'm from, the connection network we were part of, mostly because we lived very simply and focused on our own world around us, partly because that's just my nature anyway. I could meet just about anyone on the planet and not be very phased, but sometimes I'll remember every detail about the briefest of meetings for many years because someone impressed me. It's like I can feel their presence or something. They aren't fake and remain positive no matter what's happening. They believe in the missions they're on while we're here on this earth.
It's interesting to note that Tom Bolack lost the use of his legs from a stroke, and Richard Leakey actually lost his legs in a plane crash. When I met them they both still had full use of their legs. These are the kind of people I model on, and that is the right kind of fame to fight for.
Billy the Kid- Fact vs. Myth- One of my favorite movies is Young Guns, supposedly based on a true account, but disproven in the years since it was made. The main tagline from the movie is "I'll make you famous." I've seen so many portrayals of Billy the Kid it's ridiculous (remember, I grew up near there), but I still really like that movie. Billy the Kid is a great example of historians fighting the tide of popular beliefs for the real story.
It's easy to look at fame and be swayed like trees in the wind with stories, especially nowadays with twitter trending. It's easy to read something shocking about someone and jump onto an emotional bandwagon. What's not easy is standing up for truth against a tirade of lies or other people wanting spotlights or pressure to shut the hell up.
I've been exposed to living examples of standing up for truth throughout my life, and turns out I really like that sort of people because I am that sort of person. I like digging for answers, finding gold nuggets of truth and pearls of wisdom. I like fighting for justice and standing up for a cause. I may not have a very big cause to stand up for, but I believe in it and feel it's worth every moment of the time I've put into it, even on bad days when the world turns black and all the friends fade. Oddly enough, it was stuff similar to the Billy the Kid rumor mill that accidentally catapulted me to my own tiny version of 'world fame'. I walk around town and barely a soul turns a head, but a certain group of people all over the world know my name.
This was a writing prompt to fill a little patch of time, and now it's time to head out the door again. You know what's good about this? It wasn't minecraft. The writing bug is back.
age rating on the blog this pic links to, although that particular post is safe for work
"You look sad, when you think he can't see you." -Molly, Sherlock. But John does see, doesn't he?
Yesterday was sad, and I know it was seen. We can play our little games, but I'm tired of games. I don't hide the sad. I don't tell other people to hide the sad. But someone is sad, and I am still sad, and I don't see a resolution as long as someone has to keep pretending that everything is ok. I feel angry when other people pretend. I grew up angry watching my mother pretend. She never got the help she needed because she was always so busy pretending she was ok. It's hard watching people you care about do that. They're there for other people, but they don't allow other people to be there for them. Unless it's a head game. But I guess it's not my stuff any more, is it? I guess this is where I finally really just get off that road. Being friends with me was obviously a mistake. All I can think right now is if you only knew what you're really missing now, because all the things I said were true, but I guess that wasn't enough.
clicks to source on facebook
You guys know all you see is the surface, right. You only see what Pinky lets you see. You guys didn't see this. "I was thrilled thinking I might not have to do all my hard work alone, that maybe someone would be around with me surging into awesome. I have a vision, a dream, and I'll be going there. No more stalling, it's TIME now. This is the year, this is my opportunity to shine, I've been preparing for this for ~years~, and there is absolutely nothing that is going to stop me from doing everything I can to get as much work done as possible this year, barring actual death." But you guys did see me stall out for the first time since 2012. THAT is how much losing a friend affects me. And now, if I really want to get back on track, I've very seriously got to let this go now. I went underground and leveled back up, and I've got people waiting on me to turn away and go with them now.
click for gif
I've switched all my blogger blogs to https now. I Lexxperimented and discovered my Lexxperience.com and PinkyGuerrero.com domain pointers have no problem sending traffic straight to the encrypted versions, yay! I was conflicted over whether to give those up, but now I'm going to keep them.
Also, I was contacted privately this month by someone who thought I was other Pinky on allwomenstalk, and I was nice enough to dig up the link back to her myself and say Sorry, I'm not the Pinky Robot you were looking for. Ok, I didn't say it like that, lol. Anyway, of all the Pinky Guerreros out there, I seem to be the most aggressive with my web presence, and I feel like I need to be teaching a class to the other Pinkys on how to properly link and hub all their medias, because as you can see, other Pinky didn't. Several of her hub sites are very poorly linked, and this one isn't actually even hubbed, so...
Ok, back to physical therapy today. I'm doing once a week for 2 months this time. I was supposed to be doing homework this week, but I slacked because extra Bunny time and extra chilly out this week. Also because it set off charley horses in the long muscles up both sides of my spine (my tenderloins, lol), and if you've never had a charley horse in one of those muscles, you basically twist into pretzels trying to work it out, and if you're lucky, it won't trigger spasms around your ribcage and make you feel like you can't breathe, and if you're really lucky, it won't trigger a nerve center beneath either one of your scapulas and make you feel like you're having a heart attack. It's loads of fun disentangling fibro in ER, 4-6 hours of tests and scans and when it's all over you finally get a pain shot and a doctor going Huh, is that all. And by the time I finally get the shot I cry like a baby because laying on those stupid beds so long with a charley horse in your back sucks super bad, and anything coming through a needle is a godsend. So no, I didn't trigger that this week during chilly weather and lots of Bunny time. I need to buy a bigger heating pad and do warm ups before and then heat after so I can control that whole triggering mess, so a heating pad is on today's list.
Fibromyalgia is a nice word for charley horses from hell, and we're talking everything from tiny strings of muscle turning into diamond filament tether fishing line (I have muscle fibers in my hands that feel like guitar strings, they don't even feel like human tissue) to synchronized ballet as entire sections of body seize up.
And that's the kind of morning we're going to have. I just got stuck in the Futurama wiki because of the fishing line link up there. Click this if you need to get lost.
We've got a fine herd of cave crickets up and coming. @bonenado has been putting tape down in the basement and trapping 50 at a time since they were cute little wee things, now they're big and fat and still catching 50 at a time. He's thrown hundreds of them away. And now they're filtering up to this level and surprising me in the laundry, which is hard to do because I'm so fastidious with laundry. Got two this morning in the kitchen, casually asking where the coffee is. I have no idea what those things are eating, but they are fat. If they're famished enough to wipe out something like a possible termite population, yay! I can't even imagine. Maybe this is why we're not seeing any spiders...
This coolness arrived in the mail. Click it to go to amazon. In case you're not familiar with your physicists, Carroll has been hot on the heels of Kaku for years and is now being hailed as one of the greatest human thinkers of this generation. Future scifi rests on this man's shoulders.
I spent yesterday jumping up to clean every time my router got blinky, which was basically every 5 minutes (remember, our electric had been out the night before) (yes, I reset the router 3 times, it was blinky because our electric was still blinky), so the laundry is caught up, bathrooms are clean, dishes all done, bedding washed, plus I got a lot of little chores done in minecraft working in the nightclub. It's a blend of Goldmember's Studio 69 skating rink and Casanova Frankenstein's disco room.
Might take awhile to get enough gold to make the walls gold... Or I could go purpley-blue like in Mystery Men. I'm experimenting with a disco ball, actually strobe lights for the time being, not crazy about anything I've tried so far. I still need to make a 2nd tier observation balcony around the wall, will try to strobe that but I don't think the railings will cooperate. For now it's all lit up so I can see to work, but eventually I hope it's dark enough to spawn mobs, lol. Except hopefully we don't wreck the place up killing them. It'll be awesome and just an all around bad scene, like a real underground club.
This wins tweet of the week for me.
I have have half an hour before I have to get all over a very long morning out and then come home and crash through a rough afternoon. In case you need to get lost again, here's a good place to start wandering around.
And in case you really do need an exit cue, like me, here you go.
Waking up at 2:30 a.m. from a dream where I promised someone I'd order and raise 49,511 chicks (49,511???) into layers for them and then realizing in my dream that I had no money for capital and investment for the chick order, the feed they'd require, the building I'd need (I've lived on a farm with long, empty chicken houses from the previous owner, so I already have a clue), plus the hardware (feeders, waterers) and the electricity and all the gadgets that would entail, and dang if I didn't come full awake actually doing math.
Now I'm going to dig through my photobucket and look for stuff to cheer me up.
