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Mar. 14th, 2016 | 09:24 pm

Going to keep this purposefully vague, but no one reads Livejournal anymore, and this is friendslocked so I might as well just write it for myself.

I think I might have lost a close friendship because of...honestly the stupidest thing. This person accused me of lying about something, which I explained no fewer than three times that I was telling the truth, and they continued to demand I stop lying and do the thing they asked me (which I'd already done). So, instead of continually explaining myself, I refused to respond to the accusations I was lying.

Why? Because I felt like, as an adult, he should believe me. And, as an adult, I felt like I shouldn't have to keep explaining myself.

So he stopped talking to me, and while I feel upset, I also feel a strange...calm? Because 10 years ago I would have been a wreck from losing a friend. But today? I feel like I did the right thing by refusing to let someone disrespect me. I spent my whole life submissively apologizing to people who abused me. I was always afraid of losing a friend, even when that person wasn't worth being a friend.

It's not ok to accuse someone of lying, and doubly wrong to continue to interrogate them after they've explained, several times, that they are not lying.

What's worse is this person also accused our mutual friend of ignoring him (which she was not doing - she was simply busy), and then accused HER of lying when she said she wasn't ignoring him.

Maybe this is a blessing in disguise, because this person's behavior has revealed a part of him that is...not something I like. This is a person I have strong feelings for, and he recently got into a relationship and I was trying to deal with letting go of that. It was hard. I've never felt like this about anyone, and I could not push it out of my mind. But now that I've seen this side of him, the trust that made him so attractive to me is gone. It's easier to deal with now.

It still hurts, though. He was such a close friend. I still hope that maybe he'll talk to me again, but I'm not going to be the one to start the conversation. I'm worth more than that.

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(no subject)

Oct. 11th, 2015 | 01:06 am

You know what?

I'm tired of being told there's nothing wrong with being alone.

I'm tired of being told that I should "learn to be happy" alone.

I'm not happy alone, and I don't think I'm wrong in being honest and saying I'm unhappy.

I don't think I should keep trying to justify why being alone is perfectly fine, because for me, it's not. Every time I say "it's okay" to myself, I'm lying.


I don't care if people get upset at me anymore. I don't care if I get in trouble for being "mopey" or for not being thankful for friends or family or whatnot.

I'm unhappy.

I'm unhappy because I'm alone.

And if you're actually a friend, you won't try to tell me why I'm wrong for being unhappy or try to give me alternative ways to be happy alone.

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Archery Tag!

Oct. 26th, 2014 | 07:05 pm

I went to the CT Renaissance Faire yesterday with my brother, sister-in-law and nephew.  I was all excited because I haven't been to a good renfaire in a while, and I also had a cool new bodice from Crimson Chain Leatherworks and a big skirt to wear :D  So we get there and I see they have target archery, throwing axes, spears, etc.  Ok cool.  Then I see people in helmets...with bows...shooting at each other...


I first heard of archery tag maybe half a year ago.  Some ranges have opened up that offer it.  Basically, it's like paintball, except you use bows and arrows instead of paintball guns to shoot each other.  The bows are very light weight (maybe 10 or 15 lb draw weight) and the arrows have a big cushion on the end, much like a giant marshmallow.  Like paintball, you wear a helmet that protects your face.  The goal is to shoot as many people from the opposite team as possible :D

[Pictures!]Here's everyone listening to rules and getting ready. I'm the one in the big fluffy black skirt. Unlike paintball helmets, these helmets you could actually breathe and see through easily. But it did amplify my breathing so I sounded (to myself) like Darth Vader.

Getting ready to shoot. The arrows fly much slower than regular arrows, due to the big cushion on the end and the weaker bows. Once I realized this, I dodged arrows instead of hiding from them.

Getting ready to shoot someone in the FACE >:[ (I don't think I actually hit anyone in the face)

OH NO I got hit. When you get hit, you have to give your bow to an attendant and run a lap around the field! Then you get your bow back and can go back to shooting people in the head.

It actually wasn't too hard to dodge.  I credit my elementary school nerd reflexes which kept me safe during dodgeball.  I can't throw a ball but goddamn can I dodge every single one.  I got hit twice, and one time was in my giant skirt :|  One of the attendants was like "awwwwwwww that's a disadvantage".  Next time I do it I think I'll wear pants.

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Sonic Adventure 2 Greatest Hits Revisited (no really this is gold)

Oct. 22nd, 2014 | 12:13 am
music: this album

Posting this here because NO ONE SEEMS TO HAVE LISTENED TO THIS EVEN THOUGH I POSTED IT EVERYWHERE AND THEY NEED TO.  I have been listening to this album all evening and it is just absolute perfection.  Basically two dudes got drunk and made remixes of Sonic songs.  Some of them are actual remixes, some of them are just singing karaoke style horribly and fucking around with guitars and cowbell (yes cowbell)


Best tracks (in my opinion):

Live and Learn (that fuckin cowbell)
Pumpkin Hill "I looked on the computer. It gave me a hint. It said:/'It's hiding. On Church Hill.'/Not to be confused. With Winston Churchill./He was from. Was uh...Prime Minister. Prime Minister during World War II./I bet he would like Sonic. If he played it today./'Cause he's a great guy."
Unknown from M.E. KNUCKLES. KNUCKLES. KNUCKLES.  And then a 2 minute monologue about why you should treat a certain character nice because it sucks to be mean to video game characters.
Tails and Dr. Eggman Fight but Dr. Eggman Dies in an Explosion I don't even

Even if you've never played a Sonic game in your life, you'll probably still appreciate the sheer absurdity of these songs.

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In which I actually complain about a TV show

Jan. 23rd, 2014 | 02:32 pm
mood: annoyedannoyed

Okay so I can count on one hand the number of TV series I've actually watched all the way through, and it's usually only if it's on Netflix so I can show-binge (Breaking Bad being the one exception - I actually watched those episodes on TV. Gasp).  Soooooo when I invest this much time in a series and it ends badly I GET MAD and want to rant about it.

[DEXTER SEASON 8 SPOILER BENEATH THE CUT. Don't read unless you've seen it already or don't care if the whole ending is spoiled.]Okay.  Dexter, season 8.  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.  Most of my complaints were in the series finale, so let me just list the things that happened that pissed me off/made no sense/ruined everything.

- Hannah McKay, blonde bombshell, murdering fugitive who escaped custody with her face plastered all over Miami.  WHY AREN'T YOU WEARING A WIG.  Your gorgeous blonde hair is like your signature.  Why are you walking around MIAMI, the city where you are WANTED FOR MURDER, with your blonde hair flowing in the sunset.  PUT ON A WIG.  DYE IT.  DO SOOOMETHING other than walking around in BROAD DAYLIGHT looking exactly like your wanted poster.  Hell put on a pair of sunglasses for fucksake, but stop walking around and getting spotted and then acting all surprised when suddenly you have a Marshal and a PI on your ass.  If I was a city's top wanted fugitive you can bet your ass I would 1) never step foot in that STATE again and 2) CHANGE MY APPEARANCE DRASTICALLY.

- Deb.  Deb Deb Deb.  Your mental breakdown was exactly what was expected of someone who murdered her Captain/friend in cold blood.  You were the Lieutenant.  You not only found out your brother was a serial killer but helped him with info and by turning a blind eye.  Okay, I get it, he's family and you maaaay have been excused if it was left at that, but you shot not one, but TWO people (one to recover jewels!!?).  So...why did a few therapy sessions suddenly fix EVERYTHING?  You started the season saying you should have shot Dexter instead of LaGuerta and walked into Miami Metro to give a full confession...and then did a 180 and went "I can't imagine life without you".  WHAT.  NO.  Goddammit.

- Fuck you, Quinn, for suddenly deciding you don't love Jamie when Deb is back in your life.  And constantly saying Jamie is overreacting and is wrong about him still liking Deb.  SHE WAS RIGHT.  YOU ARE SUCH A DOUCHE FOR BREAKING UP WITH HER AS SOON AS A POSSIBILITY OF GETTING BACK WITH DEB APPEARS.  I HATE YOU QUINN.

- What the fuck is up with Masuka's daughter?  What is her purpose?

- Hannah strolls onto a bus with no disguise (already covered this) with a kid that isn't her's.  The PI is there and lets her know that he's taking her off the bus at the next stop.  Heyyyyy how about fucking CALLING SOMEONE to let them know in case, oh, I don't know, the murderer who is known for poisoning people does something like....poisons or drugs you?  Which is exactly what she did.

-  Since when does the horse tranquilizer that Dexter use (which is where Hannah got it, I assume) have a convenient 8-second delay so you can gloat before your victim passes out?  Whenever Dexter uses it it knocks the victim out immediately.  Kind of the point when you don't want a struggle.  And no one noticed her stabbing him across the aisle with a giant needle?

- Hannah's passport does not have the same last name as Harrison.  How does she get on a plane with him?

- Dexter takes Deb off life support.  She flatlines.  Somehow NO ONE IN THE HOSPITAL RESPONDS TO A FLATLINED PATIENT.  Furthermore---

- ---he WALKS OUT OF THE HOSPITAL WITH HER WHITE-SHEET-DRAPED BODY ON A GURNEY AND PLOPS HER IN HIS BOAT.  MOORED RIGHT NEXT TO THE HOSPITAL.  No one notices him stealing a fucking corpse and putting her in his boat and just puttering away?  What...what in the actual fuck?

- Why the fuuuuuuuuuuuuck would you drop your sister's body into the ocean, the same 'burial' you give all the murderers you killed?  How is that respectful of her?  Why not leave her body there in the hospital so she could have a respectful funeral/burial with the friends who loved her?  Selfish selfish bastard!

- Motoring off into a hurricane is actually a pretty badass way to die.  Except you didn't die.  You somehow survived a hurricane that turned your boat into flotsam miles from shore.  What, did you swim?  Get picked up (again) by a random boat?  In a hurricane?  No.  How the fuck did you survive that.

- A LUMBERJACK.  REALLY.  Oh and the whole 'I'm gonna look like Walter White with my new beard" nonsense does not make you as cool as Walter White :|

I really shouldn't have even watched Season 8.  I'm that annoyed with it.  It would have made the most sense to have Season 8 be Batista slowly figuring out who Dexter is and Miami Metro closing in on him.  I mean, fucking come on - LaGuerta was convinced Dexter was the Bay Harbor Butcher, and as soon as she goes after Dexter, she dies?  Batista wasn't AT ALL suspicious about that?  They accepted the double-gunshot framing without any difficulty whatsoever, and she was a super close friend of his.  Dexter getting hunted/caught would have been SUCH A GOOD ending to the series, but instead they went with this whole brain surgeon, random character-from-Dexter's-past clusterfuck.  It just didn't fucking work :|


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Loss and Emptiness

Oct. 10th, 2013 | 02:09 am
mood: Empty

Five days since Stolen Cat passed on, and it's actually getting harder to cope than easier.

The worst times are at night, when I lay in bed unable to sleep, just thinking about the enormous absence of his presence. He didn't even sleep next to me every night, I'd say most nights he didn't, but it's more the knowledge that he'll never be there next to me ever again. He'll never wake me up early with that annoying, urgent meow on the floor, then pause, struggle his way up on my bed, and meow in my face in case I didn't hear him. It's so quiet now. He was always such a vocal cat, with his little mews and trills. When I walked into a room where he was, we had our own little greeting - he'd go HNNNN and I'd go HNNNN and he'd respond back again.

It's hard knowing I'll never hear any of that again.

I've given a lot of thought as to why his loss has been so painful.  I realize he was my only source of affection - he would come to me looking for pets and cuddles or just to lay next to me while I worked or sleep next to me at night. I didn't realize it at the time but I really came to need that, subconsciously.  I came to need, as part of my life, someone or something that craved my presence, and vice versa.  He would always come to me, not my dad, barely even his previous owners, but me. He would constantly follow me around the house, waiting until I sat down so he could curl up next to me. He always had to be within paw's reach.

He seemed in a lot of ways dog-like. He didn't lose patience like regular cats do. He never scratched or hissed, and would let me cuddle or hold him even If I suspected he'd rather be on the ground.  He was always purring whenever I touched him even if it was my toe nudging him. I used to cuddle him and bury my face in his fur and go, "you're my kitty and I love you," and I want nothing more than to be able to do that just one last time.

Maybe that's one of the reasons his death hit me so hard; I didn't have a goodbye. I don't know if he died scared or lonely or looking for me. I wonder if he left knowing he was going to die and wanted somewhere private, or if his body gave out and he couldn't make it home.  I just wish I could have given him one last cuddle.  Maybe mostly for selfish reasons, but also so he knew how much he meant to me.

I've cried for him every night, out of that giant emptiness I wish would slowly fill up. I know eventually it will, but it just seems like I'm emptier and emptier and more alone every night.  There was no cat like him.  I've met plenty of cats and none of them were like him.  Sometimes I feel like a kid, curled up thinking, I want my kitty. But I'm a rational adult and know that he's gone and isn't ever coming back.  I wish my subconscious would stop giving me dreams of suddenly him arriving at the door or jumping on my bed or sitting in the window.  It hurts more waking up and having to tell my woken mind that it was a dream, and force myself back into the world of logic.

I know grief takes time, but I just feel so alone without my friend.

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Stolen Cat

Oct. 5th, 2013 | 06:05 pm
mood: sadsad

Writing this all down to help get it out of my head and make sense of everything.

I woke up this morning like usual, thankful I got to sleep in since Stolen Cat sometimes will come upstairs and meow in my face until I wake up.  I went downstairs and my dad called me over and said he had bad news.

He got a call from Stolen Cat's (actual) owners.  They found him dead underneath one of their cars, passed away from unknown causes.

I felt numb and upset, and utterly confused.  He seemed so healthy.  Old, but healthy.  His owners looked him over and didn't find any cuts, bites, or injuries whatsoever, so the death must have been natural.  They said they were going to bury him, so I called them and although they had already put him in the ground, let me come over to say my goodbyes at his grave.  It was such a nice little spot - they set a circle of rocks around where they buried him, with a flat brick and a bouquet of daisies, and I put his catnip ball there that he loved to nom on.  They obviously did care very much about him (which I feel bad for doubting at times).  We talked a bit about him, and I learned a little about his history.  His father (Oldcat, who disappeared a couple months ago), was only a year older than him.  And Stolen Cat?  He was 13 years old.  I knew he was old but I didn't realize HOW old.  It makes me feel at least a little better to know that based on his age, it was likely his time.

I also met Stolen Cat's sister, who had to be picked up by a member of the family since she was just as shy at Stolen Cat was around strangers.  She looked just like him - nub tail, even that adorable face - but black and white instead of gray.  Apparently Stolen Cat's mother spotted him dead under the car, froze, and ran down into the basement for the rest of the day.

The worst part was, when I first found out, I was afraid his death was my fault.  Last night, I had just given him his monthly dose of Advantage (topical flea meds) and like usual, he got all 'shy' around me once I put it on.  That's normal for him, though he remained shy of my hands for a little longer than usual.  I looked it up online and apparently many cats hate the feeling of the liquid on their skin/fur, and find the scent disturbing. One time I opened the tube and as soon as he smelled it, he ran off.  But I kept thinking that somehow the Advantage poisoned him or something.  I went for a walk trying to work through things in my head, and determined a few things that make it unlikely that the Advantage caused his death:

1) He was old. 13 years is old for a cat, particularly one who goes outdoors.
2) He had health issues, such as a cataract in one eye, weak hindquarters (he couldn't jump up on things very well) and he drank a LOT of water. I filled a pint-sized bowl with water every day and by the end of the day it was 3/4 empty.  This makes me suspect kidney issues or possibly diabetes.
3) I've been giving him Advantage for the past 4 months and he has never had an adverse reaction, aside from the 'shyness' after application.

Though I do wonder if the routine stress he experienced was that extra kick to his weakening heart or something :(  I'll never know.

But now I'm realizing all the little things I'll miss about having him around.

Driving home and hearing him meow outside my car door, then opening it and having him jump inside.
Giving him scritchies and having him purr and bash his head against things because he's so happy.
Having him pull himself up into my bed and knead his paws while I fall asleep.
Being silently followed into the kitchen and then SURPRISE. Stolen Cat staring at me begging for tunas.
Singing random songs to him and substituting the lyrics for cat-related ones.
Walking past him when he's sitting in the kitchen chair and feeling his paw bat me as I walk by.
Standing up and feeling a paw touch my foot, and looking down at him stretching allll the way to be able to reach.
The constant trilling of him trying to get attention for pets or food, or just saying "hey I'm here don't forget".
The broken blinds as a result of his fat head stuck through them.
Poking his widdle toesies.
Giving him 'uppies' and petting him while he purrs against my shoulder.
Hearing those adorable little sneezes.
And yes, even being woken up at 7:00 am by an 'accidental' stretched clawed paw to the face.

I'll miss him.


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Disturbing discoveries.

Feb. 8th, 2013 | 12:51 am
mood: angryangry

Had an hour-long phone conversation with my aunt whom I rarely talk to.  She and my other aunt helped my stepfather take care of my mom in her last few years when the dementia was in its final stages.  Now...I should have known better to believe my stepfather when he criticized my aunts for being 'irresponsible' and 'not giving enough time to your mom', because I KNOW how much he lies and manipulates and exaggerates things to make people look bad.  I dealt with that shit for 10 years while I lived with him, but for some reason I believed him.

Well, my aunt saw something I posted on FB mentioning how when I was 17, the thing I feared the most was my stepfather, and she wanted to talk to me about it because she never realized that he was abusive to me.  So for an hour we talked about how abusive Bob was, not just to me, but also to my AUNTS (I never knew this) while they were helping to take care of my mom.  Apparently Bob would yell at them and belittle them like he did to ME when I was a kid/teen, criticizing them for everything.  Keep in mind my aunts were helping care for my mother out of love and concern.  They weren't getting paid, they were taking time out of their OWN schedules and from their own families to try to give some help to their sister.  But my aunt revealed how Bob took that bit of kindness and treated them like fucking servants, yelling at them when they did things he didn't tell them to do, like taking the dog outside when nurses would come.  The nurses were terrified of the dog (he's super friendly, but VERY badly trained, and he's a big dog that will jump on everyone and bark), and wouldn't come inside unless he was put away.  But this apparently set Bob off.  Because he wasn't in fucking control of everything around him.

We were both SUPER pissed on the phone as we revealed the layers of Bob's manipulation.  While he lied to me about my aunts, he lied to my aunt about me being 'a selfish bitch who doesn't care about her mother' because I rarely visted (I was 2,500 miles away at college, and then 1,000 miles away at grad school...I kind of COULDN'T visit until I was home on vacation, which I always did when I returned).  And then we came to a horrible realization.

My aunt had been under the impression all along that I yelled at my mom and didn't invite her to my high school graduation.

I was LIVID.  The reason my mom didn't come to my graduation was because 2 weeks before, Bob threatened to break my neck because of a fucking hamburger bun and I called my brother to pick me up and take me to my dad's house.  I never returned because I was done with being threatened and abused.  When Bob and mom came to get the house key from me, he tore into me about involving my brother in a 'family matter' (um...excuse me...my brother IS family, and more fucking family than Bob would EVER be), and he ended it with, "well don't expect us to be at your graduation."  I remember seeing the look on my mom's face...she was too afraid to say anything against him...to this day I think she wanted to go to my graduation but couldn't because he said they weren't going to.  I left their tickets with my brother to give to them if they wanted to come, but they never showed up.

Yet Bob never told my aunt any of this.  He twisted the story to make ME sound like the bad guy.  He conveniently left out the part about how I literally fled the house in fear because he physically threatened me (after years of verbal and emotional and mental abuse).  He conveniently forgot to tell her about how HE said they weren't going to come, how I stood there, scared to say anything because of years of being conditioned where standing up for myself = punishment.  No, according to him, I was some mouthy little disrespectful bitch who screamed at my mom and told them all to go to hell and took everything they did for me for granted.  "Everything they did for me" being them stealing my father's child support payments and trying to make me pay for electricity and maxi pads and underwear with my meager part time after school job as they bought cigarettes and beer and shitty 'collectables'.

I was trying to put the past behind me, but you know what?  Fuck him.  My aunt said the same thing: "FUCK HIM."  She told me she was wondering why I was being such a 'bad step-daughter' and not visiting him after my mom died, but after we talked about all the shit he's done to me and my aunts, she apologized and said if she'd known how abusive and manipulative and untruthful he'd been, she never would have suggested I visit.  She said she would never ask me to go over there, because she knew now why I was afraid of him.

You know wounds are deep when just typing about them makes you shake with anger and anxiety.  It's been 10 fucking years since I left that hellhole and the memory still terrifies me as if it were yesterday.  I was ready to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he changed, but after hearing all this, I know he's still the same evil, manipulative, sadistic asshole who took pleasure in destroying the self-confidence of a kid out of his pleasure for power.  Fuck. Him.

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Coolest thing ever

Dec. 23rd, 2012 | 10:44 pm
mood: pleasedpleased

I decided on a whim to go do some archery practice today, since the range is going to be closed for the next two days and I don't want to fall too far out of practice.  As usual on a weekend, the automatic range was packed, so I went into the walk-up range instead.  Near the end of my hour, I shoot an arrow and hear a weird noise.  I figure I hit the nock of another arrow and broke it (which happens sometimes), but then I saw the arrow kind of...wobbling in the target.  It looked like...it was hanging off one of the other arrows!

Then the guy next to me goes, "nice!"  And I stare a bit and go, "...did I just...did I actually...?"  I was afraid to say it because I didn't want to sound dumb, but the guy responded with, "yeah I think so!"  Once everyone finished shooting, I walked up to my target and saw that I DID do what I thought I did.

I split my first arrow :3

The arrow went into the first arrow about 2 inches and hit with such force it actually curled the metal (the arrows are aluminum) around like flower petals and popped one of the feathers off.

And as much as I'd love to brag, something like this truly is completely by chance.  Even the best archers can't do this on purpose - there's even a Mythbusters episode where they try to replicate it and have a really hard time doing it.  But it's still cool as hell and might be the only time in my life it ever happens!  What's really awesome about this is how straight it went in.  A lot of 'Robin Hoods' (the unofficial term for this) are at angles, but this is pretty much dead center in.

The only drawback is now I have two arrows to replace.  But that's a minor price to pay for such an awesome 'trophy'! :D

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Video of my mask show at the Russian Lady!

Aug. 2nd, 2012 | 06:22 pm
mood: excitedexcited

I am so excited - they just released the videos for each artist from the RAW:Mixology show at the Russian Lady.  Basically, they do an individual video containing your artwork and a little interview as part of your promotional 'package' of being in the show.  I was super nervous about this video because...I hate being recorded!  And I thought my answers were pretty weak and badly-delivered, but seeing the video, I'm actually quite happy with it.  It's probably partially being my own worst critic, and some pretty masterful video editing:

It is so exciting to see models wearing my masks :D  And now I have video of them in a 'fashion' atmosphere (since I was technically part of the fashion group instead of art).  I also had the most amazing models!  Seriously, I have nothing but love for the Beat City Beauties.  They were professional, gorgeous, and a lot of fun! 

And as a side note, I am immensely amused that the preview image for the video is pretty much me doing this:

Edit:  One of my friends made this.  My life is now perfect:

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