Friday, June 21, 2013

Oh, nostalgia ...

College was such an interesting time for me. There are a lot of things I wish that I had done - gotten involved in more extracurricular activities like the radio station or the literary magazine, been to parties (hahaha this is only kind of true because I actually loathe parties but still), gone to a different university, took more art classes, etc. - but for the most part,  I enjoyed the four years I spent at MTSU. One of the fun aspects? MYSPACE SURVEYS. What? I got writer's block today and this sounded like fun.

1) Real Name:

2) Like It?

3) Single or Taken?

4) Zodiac Sign:

5) Male or Female:

6) Age:

7) Height:

8) Lucky Number:

9) Eye Color:

10) Hair Color:

11) Long or Short:

12) Marital Status:

13) Are you a health freak?


14) Height:
What? I already answered this one, so I made up my own question and answered it.

15) Do you have a crush on someone?

16) Do you like yourself?

17) Piercings:

18) Tattoos:

19) Righty or Lefty:

20) Favorite Color:

21) Least Favorite Color:

FIRSTS

22) First Kiss:

23) First Piercing:

24) First Best Friend:

25) First Award:

26) First Sport:

27) First Pet:

28) First Vacation:

29) First Car:

30) First Crush:

CURRENTLY

31) What time is it?

32) Where are you?

33) Wish:

34) About to ...

35) Listening to ...

36) Waiting for ...

37) Wearing ...

38) Annoyed about ...

39) Eating ...

40) Drinking ...

FUTURE

41) Want kids?

42) Want to get married?

43) Careers in mind?

44) Dream car?

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?

My answer to ALL of these:


45) Lips or eyes?

46) Hugs or kisses?

47) Shorter or taller?

48) Tanned skin or light?

49) Romantic or spontaneous?

50) Dark or light hair?

51) Built, fat, muscular, skinny, or normal?

52) Hook up or relationship?

53) Similar to you or different?

54) Troublemaker or hesitant?

Okay so there were about fifty more questions, but I got bored and realized that I am officially happy that I no longer do these surveys.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

I still remember when thirty was old.

Technically, "old" to me means about 75 or 80 years old, but I blame that on having parents who are medical professionals and were constantly saying that someone who died at 65 was young. And honestly, I think "old" is more of a state of mind than anything else. I certainly plan on being spastic when I'm 85 and have already told Three that I would like to die skydiving thankyouverymuch.

At the very end of this year, I turn thirty, which is as much of a surprise to me as it is to anyone who knows me. It's not like I wish for death, but I've had several scrapes that make me wonder if God was trying to fix a mistake but then decided, "Meh, what harm can she really do?" But it's not like we live in biblical times, where turning thirty meant you were either very good at steering clear of danger or you were an asshole who sent people to fight your battles. However, I am starting to wonder about people that are younger than me, because this exchange actually happened.

Me: Oh, everyone looks shitty in their driver's license photos. It's like a rule. Look at mine.
Cashier at Gas Station: Oh, my GAWD. You look GREAT for your age.
Me: (blink blink) ... I don't know if I should feel old now or not.

The cashier was twenty-two, which is a whole seven years younger than me, and yes, I know she was trying to compliment me, but I couldn't stop laughing. Even now, I'm chuckling at the memory. It was really one of those moments where you're not really sure how you're supposed to react. I wasn't offended in any way, although another cashier seemed ready to roast her for her comment. Once I left the gas station, I had to call up my mother to relay the story because it was that funny to me, and she heartily welcomed me into the fogey club.

Thanks, Mom?

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

As promised ...

It's been nearly two weeks since I got a frantic call from my mother, trying to figure out how to be supportive with the knowledge that her daughter had apparently committed adultery, which for a conservative Christian is probably harder than it would be for someone like me to do, so mad props to you, Mom. Of course, the story she'd been told - that my husband had found me in bed with another man and was now wandering aimlessly around the streets of the small town in which we live - was completely false, and the only reason that Three couldn't confirm it was because he'd gone to the grocery store. Thankfully, we live in a time where land lines are becoming obsolete due to an influx of computers that fit in our hands, and I called up the husband, who was also trying to figure out why one of our friends was offering to come pick him up from whatever corner he was on. When we compared stories, it all started to make sense, although it was about to get much, much worse.

I guess this story really begins back when Three was a teenager and was still living in his hometown, where he befriended* a boy several years younger than he that suffered from schizophrenia and Asperger's. We'll call this boy Jay, for anonymity's sake. Jay latched onto Three because, for the first time in his life, someone was being friendly to him and not dismissing him just for being different. At one time, Jay slapped Three across the face in one of his episodes, and instead of clobbering the shit out of him - Three was at that time known for getting into fights and not being able to control his temper - Three sighed and told him to never do that again. Naturally, Jay trusted Three completely. When Three left his hometown, forever leaving it behind him for various reasons, Jay lost the one person that didn't treat him with utter contempt. 

Fast forward a little over ten years and Three finally** sets up a Facebook account, which was primarily used if he couldn't reach me via phone. Well, Jay gets super excited and sends a friend request, which Three contemplates for a few days before being like, "Well ... this may not be the best idea, but he might need a friend." They start talking again, and Jay tells him that he's on medication now and even jokes about how, if he starts acting creepy, Three should just call his social worker. He then friends me, which I approve under the stipulation that he will be blocked if he stops taking his meds for any reason. And all is well for a while. 

The day began pretty normally, except that Jay had somehow gotten Three's phone number (we deduce it was from his father, but it's kind of a moot point) and was blowing it up nearly every fifteen minutes. Then he started messaging me on Facebook about random things like Walt Disney being alive and five-year-olds leading the United States, mixed in with queries about my sort-of-in-hiatus soap business and then finally angry messages about how I was blind or something. After I blocked him, everything seemed to calm down, hahahahah because right, that's how life works. 

It was almost immediately after speaking to my mom and Three that I knew who was behind the account. I recalled a message I'd gotten from Jay about a fake account from which he had claimed to receive a friend request. He had also claimed that he would probably get blamed for it, which made absolutely no fucking sense at the time, but the threads were all coming together. We let everyone know what was going on, without naming names or being too OMG about it, and things then started to get ugly.

Several of my friends received death threats from Jay acting as my husband, and while I didn't necessarily feel scared for my own safety or for people who lived near me, both Three and I were concerned for his own family in his hometown in Florida. We notified the authorities in our current residence and Three's hometown, and well, let's just say that it got noticed by Homeland Security and the FBI. No one was injured, and he is now in the custody of the state, hopefully getting the help he needs. 

And that's kind of my point. I have been teetering on the edge of being so enraged I could spit nails through concrete*** and actually feeling very sorry for a guy who's had no support system when he so direly needed it. He fits the profile for a mass shooter: mentally unstable, prone to violence, thin connection to reality, no access to adequate mental health care. He just didn't understand how and hasn't had to deal with rejection or emotional pain, since nearly everyone in his life would let it slide because, oh, he's just weird. When his mother found out the "hassles" she would have to deal with while he was under 24/7 surveillance, she decided to sign Jay over to the state. I don't entirely blame her and can't even be sure that I wouldn't make the same choice, but I can't imagine what went through his mind when he found out. All I can wish is that this episode, which was actually much more convoluted and scary than I've described it (partially because I'm still processing a lot of it and partially because it could take forever to tell completely, since there are so many layers to what happened), will provide something positive in Jay's life, either by showing him that he has to handle the consequences of his actions even when he's not completely in control or by providing him the infrastructure and stability his illness requires in order for him to function. Granted, we'll probably never know, but a girl can dream. 

* This term is used loosely, since Three was sure to keep the boy at arm's length due to his mental instability.
** He succumbed to my bitching that I didn't have any proof on FB that I was married to a real dude.
*** No matter how much my mother may piss me off, if you upset or frighten her for any reason, I will cut you. 

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Well, THAT was crazy.

I'm fairly sure that the past four weeks of my life have been the most random, amazing, amusing, and frustrating ones of my life, and I'm a little mad that I had placed a moratorium on computer use during that time. Because seriously? Guys. GUYS. 

First and foremost, Little Shit aka Bitty aka Esther is in heat, and it is HILARIOUS. I keep meaning to do a Vine post just documenting all the things that she is in love with, which includes (but is not limited to) the following: my shoe, Zola's tail, all the doors, Three's underwear (whether he's wearing them or not), my face, and most importantly, the cucumber I pulled out of the fridge this afternoon. Make of that what you will. And she's so incredibly vocal right now, which is what the internet tells me is normal, but that does not make it any less annoying and hysterical. She is normally quite talkative, anyway, being that she has Siamese in her, but she chirps to herself now when she isn't wailing into the night/day/whenever, all the while adjusting her ass into a cat penis-receptive position and looking back at me like, "Um, hello? I have needs." We will be getting her spayed soon, but really, this is so entertaining that it's almost worth having to fight her at the door when she tries to escape. 

Anyway, I also showed some of my artwork this past weekend at Nashville's Hypericon, which was such a great experience. After I published my last novella, I set straight to work on some watercolors because that's apparently my niche. I just simply cannot get into working with acrylics, and I didn't have any oil supplies; plus, I'm getting the hang of the medium and have a ton of fun with it. So win/win. I did a whole series called "Elementals" of which I'm actually quite proud; I even have a Pinterest board dedicated to them. The whole thing was kind of surreal, because I'd never shown anything at a show before, and while I didn't sell anything (which wasn't the point, anyway), I walked away with a lot more knowledge under my belt. I had spent nearly forty-five minutes before leaving to go hang up my stuff that, yes, I did want to go through with the show and OMG STOP BEING SUCH A NINNY. It's hard to get out there and actually put your work up for someone besides your loving husband to critique, but I did it. 
Like a boss.
Being in a creative headspace for so long kind of makes you unrelatable to most people. I mean, there's the "I haven't bathed in about five days" thing, sure, but I was kind of a basketcase when I finally emerged from my den of art. Even a trip to Walmart to see if they carry paint pens was taxing, since it kind of felt that everyone was sort of giving me the side-eye. Later on, I realized it might be because I was wearing two different shoes, but whatever. I am an artiste. 

Now, the next little thing is actually going to be its own separate post because of the cray-cray, but yeah, so this totally happened to me. Three decides to go to the grocery store to buy some food; I'm not allowed to go usually because I inadvertently make him buy more than he intended and for the most part, I'm okay with this since I'm not that big a fan of grocery shopping. I'm sitting in my office, doing some painting, when I get a call from my mother, who's all, "Are you okay??" Of course, I'm confused, but I'm like, "Yeah?" She asks me where Three is in this wary voice and doesn't believe me when I tell her. And then comes the bombshell: apparently, she'd gotten a Facebook message from him, saying that he and I were through because he caught me in bed with another man. 
A-wha?
Naturally, I'm a little, "Huh?" I call Three up after promising to explain to my mom whenever I figure out what's going on, and both of us (he is on the other line with another friend of ours who had gotten a similar message) are kind of flabbergasted. Long story short, a guy that knew Three from his hometown got mad at him and chose to retaliate using a fake Facebook account to harass my friends and family (since Three doesn't really use Facebook) and oh, yeah, also send death threats. We spend the next few days on the phone with law enforcement from both our state and the state where the other guy lives, and by the end of it all, we're both wishing that we had never signed up for Facebook ever (except then I'd miss my Candy Crush Saga and Threads of Mystery addictions).

Thankfully, everything with that story is resolved (mostly), although I'm still dealing with the lingering feelings of rage and pity, which, like I said, I'll get into on another post. For now, I'm going to get back to writing (including the completion of the Thirty Day Challenge that I basically said hahahafuckyou to, which ... sorry, I'm kinda bad with follow-through on some things) and I might even throw in a nice bout of exercise, since it is absolutely gorgeous out. 

Ta-ta!
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