Urban Fantasy

So I finally figured out what the name of my favourite genre is. My favourite genre to read, that is. Urban Fantasy. Kim Harrison and Laurell K Hamilton are icons of the genre, and two of my favourite authors (well, when just considering Laurell's earlier works anyway).

I love fantasy in general I think. I mean, I learned to read with Dr. Seus, and it doesn't get more fantastical than him to me. As a teen, I learned to love reading, and expanded my vocabulary with, what I'll call, traditional fantasy (knights questing on fictional worlds) with David Eddings. Seriously, that man has an amazing vocabulary!

I'm not entirely sure I can write fantasy well, urban or otherwise. The one thing my teacher keeps mentioning is my lovely, poetic word choices. Perhaps I'm a poet at heart? Buried under the years of practical engineering training? LOL. Anyway, where I'm going with this is, I do choose words well, for the most part, but I have so much trouble with everything else. I'm just not good at challenging the status quo. I hate conflict. I'm not good at creating tension. And that's the whole point of telling a story, damnit.

I don't think I could ever write things like Kim Harrison or Laurell K Hamilton does. I love mysteries, and a bit of violence, don't get me wrong, but writing them? I'm hopeless. I'm not a fighter. I'm like the exact opposite. I wouldn't even know where to begin in describing a fight, never mind creating it in my head! As for the mystery part, I love reading them, but I don't actually have any interest in writing them. Does that even make any sense??

So what do I want to write? To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that I have a story in my head, and it's what I want to get out, it's what my brain goes to when it goes quiet, it's what a mull over before I fall asleep, it's what I think of when I look at a blank page. Until this story comes out, until I turn it into a story instead of just a dream, I'm not sure anything else will come out, or matter.

What kind of story is it? Well, I'm not entirely sure yet. Paranormal. That much is certain. Possibly romance, though, of that I'm not certain. I have characters, I have a setting, I have desires, but I'm still not convinced I have a story worth telling. It's still muddy. And it's making me a bit crazy. Maybe I just need to take the time to get more of my thoughts on the matter on the page. I'm not sure. I'm just not sure.

I wish I could talk it over with someone, but.. who? I don't really have friends... certainly not ones willing to listen to be babble about a novella. I could babble at my husband, but he'd just get angry with me, and wouldn't give me any kind of feedback, which is what I need. *Sigh*

Maybe I'm just not cut out to be a writer?

Update.

The weather lately has been fantastic! Sunshine, not too cold, not too hot either. Rather lovely. Today, however, looks like the last lovely day in some time - the forecast calls for all kinds of rain for the foreseeable future. So I'm hoping to go out today and do as much as I can. I'm not sure how much I'll manage. Chronic illness means I never have enough energy for the ambition/goals I have.

This weekend we are having a birthday party for my husband/apartment warming. I have no idea who is actually going to show up. Most of our friends seem to have other plans this weekend and can't make it. Makes me sad, but oh well. As Chris said, we tried.

I'm not sure if it's my particular mental stint, or if it's reality. I'm just...wondering if...friend is the right term. Maybe acquaintance is more appropriate. I mean, when we asked for help painting, and then moving the only offers we got were from my father (!!) and Shasta who lives with more pain than I do. I was shocked that my father was willing to help, he's basically ignored me my whole life, and I was saddened that none of our acquaintances cared enough to even make excuses.

It makes me realise why I've heard so many women say that their husband is their best friend. Many women marry men they would be friends with under other circumstances, but as it is, what with being married and all, their husbands are always there, always willing to listen, to help. I've always been jealous of women who say that. So very jealous. If it wasn't for the sex, for the marriage bit, Chris and I would not be friends. I love him, but I can't talk to him about a lot of things - things I would talk to my friends about, that I used to talk to my friends about, when I had close friends. But life, time, space, have combined to mean I just don't have close friends anymore, and Chris is my best friend. Poor man. I know he would never willingly take that post. And it's not that anything's changed. I still can't talk to him about chick things, or matters of the heart, or most of the things that eat at me, because he either doesn't want to hear it, or doesn't know how to respond. He's also a very solitary creature, and I often get the "I've had people talking at me all day, let me have some peace" speech when I do try to talk to him. So yeah. I try very very hard not to talk to him about most things. Even attempting to share my day with him never goes well.

I'm not good at making friends. I'm... not good with people in that way. But I mean, I can't relate to most normal life experiences, and most people have no clue how I live my life. I don't work. I don't even do most normal housewife things. I don't have kids (thank the gods). I live in chronic pain. I have no energy for anything. I just can't do so many things healthy people do and take for granted. How do I relate to them? I can't. That's the truth of it. So part of me holds back, but part of me just doesn't know what to say. =/

Anyway, thinking about this isn't going to make it any better. I don't know how to fix it. And dwelling just makes me sad.

Depressed...

I had a nap today. While listening to an audiobook even.  I started feeling heavy, sore absolutely everywhere. It hurt so bad. Like sinking into a vat of mild acid or something... And then darkness. I woke up when my phone bugged me to take meds, but was still too tired, so I stopped it and didn't take my meds.  They're for pain, but I HAVE to take them with food. I'm heating up something for lunch, I'll take them then.

When I did finally wake up... I realised why I didn't want to make up. Realised why I let myself fall into painful sleep.  Besides the fact that I didn't sleep well last night and woke up too fucking early for what little sleep I got.... I'm depressed.  I just want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. Hide from everything.

I've got a child inside that loves Christmas more than anything else in the world. Because everyone smiles. Everyone comes home. Our home feels like the centre of the world. Hugs abound. Laughter. Yummy cookies before dinner!  Yummy turkey! Dinner with more than the three of us! Krokono (or however it's spelled) came out! We all played, no matter how bad we were. Family. Family all around. Talking all at once. Laughing.  The older I got the more the giving of presents has become important. Being able to give my parents back something. Being able to make them smile.  Still the kid. Still seeking approval. Their joy became everything.  Eating breakfast together. Roppie Pie... mmmm.. All the roppie pie I could eat!  Yeah, Christmas time was great.

Christmas hasn't really been like that in some time though.  There's fewer of us.  Most of mom's kids just don't visit.  They have grandbabies of their own now, now THEY are the ones being visited. A few still come, maybe three of the 7 or so that used to.  They don't stay long, but it's still very nice to see them.  Uncle Don is more quiet, less likely to smile now that his wife isn't here with us anymore.  But he comes.  There's no more krokono.  Everyone just lost interest I guess.  Aunt Gladis, uncle Don's wife would always play.  It would her, Pa, and Uncle Don beckoning someone to come play with them, but with just the two men... it wasn't the same.  But there was still smiles. Still laughter.  Still family.  Still goodies, and gifts, and yummy food my mommy made.  When I actually had money, and a life of my own, being able to shower my parents with gifts they way they always did me, was the greatest joy.  Their surprise.  Their joy.  They didn't always love what I got them, but they were grateful. That's how they raised me to be too.  They knew how much it meant to be, to be able to give to them.  I miss that sooo much.

As of last year, my Christmas was not my own. I was part of a couple.  Now I'm married.  I have obligations to both families.  We don't drive.  It's at the very least an hour and a half between them.  Because of transit, it takes as long to get to his parents from our home in Toronto, as it does to get to my parents. And the time to get from one to the other is about the same as that as well.  If we don't start at one of our parents house then we're going to end up spending six hours traveling Christmas day, and barely an hour or two with either family.  And then boxing day, instead of resting, we have to spend it with his extended family.  It's just not fair. His family always ends up weaseling more time out of us.  And we always end up leaving feeling depressed.  His family means well I'm sure but the constant barrage of questions and remarks that clearly say, "Why aren't you living like us? Why aren't you living up to our expectations? What's wrong with you? (and just for me: Why aren't you soldiering through, it's not that bad? Why aren't you working? Why aren't you in school?)"  It leaves us exhausted, grumpy, and at least me, sad.  I do not look forward to any of that.

Chris said we don't have to spend Christmas together. Lots of couples don't. We could go to our respective parents.  Yeah, cause that's just what I want to do. I want to abandon him.  I want to spend my once favourite holiday away from him. This is not what I want.

But I can't seem to figure it any way that will work.  My parents no longer have a spare bedroom.  Or, rather, I no longer have a bed there.  My Aunt Barb is planning on staying at my parents a few days before Christmas. That means she'll be sleeping on the couch or on the air mattress on the floor in the living room.  There would be no room for us if we wanted to sleep there. Just, literally, no room.  I so do NOT want to sleep at Chris' parents.  They're nice enough and all, but I would be so so so uncomfortable there. I wouldn't sleep a wink. I'd be sick and feverish the whole day as a result.  No, no, we can't do that.  So what?  We sleep at home and get up at 6am to catch the 7:30am bus to get to my parents by 9am... so we can get started on making/helping my mom make dinner.  Because I don't want her doing everything by herself this year. It's too much. I'm not a bad cook.  If she directs, I'm sure it will be fine.  Though I don't see why we'd need to get started at 9am.  I tried to tell Chris there was no way we were getting mom to not cook the turkey.  She's just going to do it, and we won't even know she has until we smell it cooking hours later (if we were to stay over).  We so don't need to start the veggies and such at 9am! pft!  Mom will bake the pies a few days before... I'm thinking I might come home and ask if I can help. Hell, I'll ask for lessons!  I'm terrible at pie crust rolling.  I wanna do it with her cheering/instructing.  She can peel and cut the apples.  Show me how much to add. I've never done it!  I want to help. I really do.  If I make it like she's doing ME a favor, she'll be more likely to let me in.  Especially if I'm there in the morning and ready.  So, we'll see, THAT might work.  *Sigh*  but then we still have to see his parents.... which would mean leaving before dinner was done, very likely. Or just after. And then staying late at his parents WAY past my bedtime like we did last year.  I was hoping we could invite Chris' parents to my parents.  That was HIS idea. It's a good idea. But that means a ton of people at my mom's house. If I'm not there to make sure she isn't doing too much I'll worry.  Like really worry.  And Chris will guilt me into being even more worried.  So yeah...

Christmas is now just a fucking nightmare and I want to hide under the covers and pretend I don't exist -- my standard response when things make me this sad and I feel just as helpless, just as useless as I do now to make anything at all better.

I mean, I have fibro.  I AM useless. And everyone around me knows it.  My mom worries I'll do too much, and does for me.  Chris worries I'll wear myself out and doesn't let me help even when I'm up and around.  I'm like morbidly obese, icky eye candy or something.  Not even good for looking at, but that's all I'm good for... =/

Weird, yet telling dream

I always have weird dreams, perhaps I should stop prefacing my tellings with a statement of oddity?

Anyway! To the dream!

I've been dreaming of home lately. I'm not exactly sure why, but there it is. And when I do dream of home, home is always my parents house. Partly, I'm sure because that was my childhood, it was my home for 30 years of my life, and I'm just now trying to deal with the fact that it's not my home anymore. I'm always welcome there, I always will be, but it's not my home. I know too, that part of why I always dream of my parents house as home is because. although I've lived here for over a year, and Chris tries to make me feel like this is my home too, in my heart, this isn't my home. It's Chris place, not mine, I just live here. Does that make any sense? I don't feel like a squatter exactly, but... this isn't mine. My clothes live here, and some of my books, but all my furniture, all my yarn, all my accoutrements of home don't live here. They are packed away in my parents attic. So when I dream, I dream of my parents home, with my old room intact, when I had a place that felt like my own.

this time I dreamt that my family was going on a picnic. My uncle Russell and his family were at the house, helping my parents pack stuff in the van, they were going along you see. I'm not sure how much of my family was going. I think perhaps it was the once annual family picnic at Bing Park. We haven't done that in the past few summers, mostly because it's a)hard to arrange that many people to be someplace all at the same time, and b) the weather has been pretty shitty/unpredictable. Anyway, family picnic. I don't think Chris and I were going, though I don't know why. It just felt like they were leaving us behind for some reason.,,

Dreams don't have to make sense! Carrying on!

My Uncle Russell chided... someone? Maybe his daughter to hurry up. He said that even Neda who was notoriously always late was ready and waiting. "Neda?!" I thought, surely I must have heard him wrong. When I asked him what he meant, he said Neda was sitting outside in one of the patio chairs, waiting,

I ran out the door, flabbergasted, hopeful and angry. Neda was in South Korea, or Australia. She wasn't coming home, ever, not even to visit! And yet, there she was, sitting in one of mom and pa's lovely brown patio chairs, smiling, and looking quite at home.

I wanted to hug her. I wanted to slap her! She'd been home for gods knows how long, but she never bothered to call me?! Never bothered to answer, not one of the many messages I'd sent her?! Too good for me, she was. And yet here she sat, thinking how happy I would be, thinking I would welcome her with open arms. Think her so clever for surprising me.

Yeah. Not going to happen. I screamed at her "You bitch! You could have CALLED!" Then stormed into the house. Neda followed me, smiling even bigger, thinking I was just teasing her, thinking my anger was momentary.

Neda picked up a dish towel on the counter and started slinging it towards me in a playful manner. I don't remember what she said... something light, playful, teasing, very Neda. She likely punned at me. She's very punny. I, however, was not amused. I got another dish towel from the rack, and tried to thwack her with it, in earnest.

I started yelling about how upset I was. She abandoned me! She abandoned us!! She left everyone she knew, everyone that loved her, and went off in search of adventure. She didn't even have the decency to be honest with any on us, or at least with me about her future plans!! She made me think she was coming home, at least for a visit! I thought I might actually get to celebrate my wedding, my marriage, with her! But nooo! I'm not good enough! Of course she'd never come back for meeee I'm not important enough to bring her back here. Not to boring old Canada. Hell, I'm not even important enough to get to know the truth, to get to know her plans! And she thinks she can just show up whenever she pleases and I'll just welcome her back with open arms?? It will be like it was before she left?? That we'll be the best of friends?! That we'll be friends at all?! NO! No I tell you! I won't have it!

At this point I stormed off. The whole house was in an uproar. I was ready to cry, I was falling apart, and I just wanted to be alone. As I was walking down the hall, Christine, a friend of Chris and I's from Toronto, came in the front door. She was walking like she had a purpose. like she was late, with her usual big black bag that she kept her laptops in. I wanted to hug her, I was so relieved to see her, though I'm not sure why, we aren't actually close in real life, or my dream for that matter. Chris and Neda were both hot on my heels, so I forgo-ed hugging Christine and darted into the bathroom I managed to just get in and lock the door before my pursuers caught up to me. Neda wanted to 'explain', Chris just wanted to see if I was all right. I didn't want to deal with either of them. Of course I wasn't all right.

Chris and Neda started arguing, likely over who got to pick the lock. There was shuffling, and bumping, and groaning, and a female moan - in my mind I pictured Chris' bony elbow hitting Neda in the nose. (Yes, I realise neither of them would behave this way, it was a dream.) I was angry with Neda, I wasn't sure I wanted to be her friend anymore, hell, I wasn't sure she was my friend - how can you be friends when you are worlds away and you never talk?? But I didn't want her hurt. I didn't want either of them hurt. I opened the door. Neda was holding her face and Chris was looking angry, worried, and sad.

We all trooped back into the kitchen, the heart of my former home. Neda sat down, and I got her an ice back from the freezer and a tea towel to wrap it in. She looked at me, surprised and wary. I guess I deserved that. Whatever. I gave her the icepack and sat down with Chris on the other side of the room. I sighed, looked at Neda forlornly and tired to figure out how to deal with the situation like an adult.

The dream ends or fades there.

I still don't know how to deal with the situation like an adult. In my heart I'm not really much of an adult. I feel hurt and betrayed and abandoned. I want to hope she'll come home some day and I can have my best friend back, but the logical part of my brain knows she's probably never coming back. And even if she did.... Well who's to say she'd make any effort to be my friend? She's not made any in almost a year, what makes me think she'd start then. I know I need to get over the loss of no longer having a best friend. I know I need to grow up and realise grown-ups just don't get to have that. Best friends are things children have. When you grow up you date, and get married, and the myth is, your husband(for those that have husbands) is supposed to be your best friend. Only.... Mine isn't, or won't be. Sure I love Chris, I love him very much, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him, but my best friend he ain't and never will be.

*Sigh*

I wish I was better at making friends. I wish I was better at fostering relationships... I know I'll never had what I did with Neda. I know I'll never have a group of friends as close, as trusted, and as loved as 'the gang'. I know I'll never get to feel so loved, and accepted as I did when we were all the best of friends. But I also know it's possible to have something else, something similar. Don't get me wrong. I do have friends. And they are very nice. I like them quite a lot. But we aren't close. Our relationships aren't the type where I feel comfortable asking for favours... I don't feel like I can call them up and say, hey, let's hang out. Hell, I'm not even sure I have any of their numbers. I know Chris has a few on his cell phone, but I don't have them. What I mean is, we have them because we have previously arranged to meet them, or been invited to parities at their places, but it wasn't like they gave them to me/us saying, hey call me some time, we should hang out.

I'm the kind of person you're happy to see at a party. You think I'm sweet, or nice or whatever, but I'm not the type of person most people think, 'hey, I want to hang out with her'. I'm just not that interesting. I don't work. I don't have job stories; I can't even relate to a lot of them because it's been so long since I have worked. I'm chronically ill, chronically in pain, this makes me pretty much a huge downer, and I know it. I'm not well read. I'm not up on current events or politics - I don't read the news, it depresses me. So I can't even carry on simple chit chat half the time. So it's not like I blame people... I just.... *sigh* I wish I didn't feel so isolated and... starved for female companionship.

I get snuggles from Chris. We talk to each other and all. But, ask him for his opinion, on just about anything I'd normally want/need one on, and he's clueless. Half the time he gets fed up and angry that I even ask. I'm trying to learn not to ask, or at least preface my talking with the knowledge I won't get an opinion but sometimes talking it out helps. And talking it out to myself, when I'm alone in a room, is just too close to crazy for me to do. I really miss chick time, cause women, we find a way to give feedback. I miss so very much being able to ask for feedback, even on simple things.

I think if it wasn't for Offbeat Bride and their community site, I would have gone crazy trying to plan our wedding! I'm just not used to making decisions based on opinion without getting at least some feedback from another person!

Though it's been literally years since I've had a shopping partner, I still miss having someone there. I've learned to shop on my own, all grown-ups have to, but it's just nice to have someone there to be the voice of reason, the voice of style, someone that knows you, who, unlike the clerk, isn't trying to sell you something, ya know? Men don't know... it's a chick thing to shop in groups. It's how we're socialized. And damnit, I miss it. I miss having friends, real friends.... *sigh*

Worries Gone! Mostly, anyway!

Okay, so I think all that worrying was for nothing. But sometimes everything just seems to come at you at once, and overwhelms you with stress, and GAH.

So, Pa is home - yay! I have a ride to my dress appointment, though I'm still not sure how I'll get my dress to Toronto. I think what might be best is to schedule the bridal shots closer to the wedding, get my parents to drive me to the dressmakers to pick it up some time before that. It can live in a closet or on the hook on the back of the spare room door until then. Taking it home on the train still sounds like my best bet. If it's all wrinkled from the bridal session/transit then I'll have to get it steamed...by someone. o.0 Hopefully someone I know in this city uses a dry cleaner they like/has suggestions for me on that count.

Chris totally stepped up to the plate and is currently my hero. He got the photographer answering him promptly - amazing all on it's own! And is taking time off on the 27th, and getting someone to cover for him during business hours (which will give us more than enough time)! Squee!! So so so pleased. He's also made sure his on call week is not the week of the wedding, heck, it's not even the week before the wedding!! which is just amazingly wonderful as he is always so tried the week after, this way he will be all fresh, and bouncy for the wedding! Well, as bouncy as he gets anyway. Which, I think some of our friends would be surprised to hear, in the mornings, when he's happy, he's adorably bouncy. mmhmm.

As for the needing help bit. You know, I think if I really need it, and I need like girl help, not something Chris can do for me, I'm pretty darn sure I can ask my Toronto friends and bribe them with chocolate cake or brownies; or really, they'll just do it 'cause they love me. Cause I'm starting to realise, they do love me, at least a little. Yay!

Oh! And as for my old friends who don't actually make an effort but expect me to make all the effort - screw that! Relationships are two way streets. If they aren't willing to meet me half way, well... oh well. Maybe our road just won't get traffic. I have to take the 'it's your fault' crap with a huge grain of salt. Cause, damnit, it isn't just my fault. So there!

Decisions, Decisions.

I apparently can't make decisions. Of any kind really.

I've been thinking of joining a gym for some time. In the hopes that I'd, you know, actually go and get more fit. I've only looked at two. I'm not sure how many people normally look at, but there are four on my list. I've seen the high end and the low end. And I've fallen in love with the high end.

The JCC at Spadina and Bloor, is the high end. And let me tell you, you do get what you pay for. It's really lovely. Clean. Well maintained. Lots of employees around to be helpful. They have a salt water pool! I could not be more excited about that. No contracts. No cancellation fee. Well loved personal trainers - 5 of the 9 they employ were in session when I was there, on a weekday morning! The change room facilities are gorgeous. Sauna, steam room, whirlpool, shanzy vanity stations with complimentary hair dryers.

But do I really need all that? No, I don't. I do believe there is going to come a point where a personal trainer could be really useful. Only one of the other places I'm looking at is likely to have actual personal trainers, and they don't have a pool.

I have bad knees and bad joints. when I'm in too much pain to do other things, I can swim in the pool with a lot less pain. So a pool is really important to me.

Part of me wants to look at the other pooled option I've been considering and then decide. The second pool options is $20 less a month. It's worth looking into really. Though, another part of me just wants to join the JCC's gym and be done with it.

Why can't I make a decision? What's wrong with me?!

I'm having the same troubles with the wedding stuff. I just cannot make any decisions.

Perhaps my biggest issue with all of this is, I'm a freaking princess and I know what I want, but I'm having a lot of trouble with the price tags associated with it all. If I was working and it was my own money I think I'd find it easier. But it's not my money. I'm a useless bum leaching off of my fiancee. I hate being a burden. I worry these kinds of decisions will result in my being an even bigger burden.

Though, to be fair, on the wedding front, I am trying to wage a war against my inner princess. There is only some much princess-ness I can take before I snap. Yet the pretty options call to me. I'm having a hard time giving up on options I really like. But I don't like their price tags, so.. yeah. I can't decide. And Chris is staying out of it entirely. I'm not sure if that's a safety mechanism for him, or if he just doesn't care, or what. But the lack of input bothers me.

You know, I told him I was going to make a minestrone soup. I read him the ingredients. I asked him if that sounded good. He said yes. He even said he didn't think zucchini should be in the soup, so I left them out. Two days after I've made it, I ask him how he likes it. He tells me minestrone is his least favourite soup. It's a miracle of good cooking he's willingly eating it at all. When I ask him why he didn't say something before I made it, he tells me I never told him!! *head-desks*

Understandably I'm really worried the same thing is going to happen with the wedding. I'm going to make decisions/suggestions, he's going to say "yes" without actually listening to me, and then he's going to "find out" the day of and be disappointed/upset with me. *sigh* It's our wedding. It's important to me it represent both of us damnit, and that he is happy with it too. I just don't know how to make that happen. :(

Pissed the fuck off (RANT)

I don't know if I can handle this.... Being lecutred for the rest of my life, every time I have a reaction that isn't up to his standards?!?! I don't think I can do it. I'm sooooooooo pissed off, and it's the second time in two days.

Fuck a duck.

I don't think I can live like this. First he lectures me about the crazy Christian zealots and now this. Fuck. Apparently "I have no right" to get "pissy" that Rogers is being sleezy, and changing their fees, effectively charging their customers more for the same damn service. I think it's low, but because 'the market will bear it', I'm not allowed to be upset?!

What the fuck.

If we were talking about something he cares about it would be a different fucking story. When I'm the one saying, well this is how things are, he gets all fucking pissy at me. But I'm not allowed the same reaction apparently. Apparently when I do it, it's wrong, and I'm being irrational.

Try explaining that there are different standards of dress for men and women. And if you don't follow them, as a woman, things will be much harder for you, and you may never get ahead in the business world. Try saying well sexism is 'just the way it is'. Try saying that women being abused is 'just the way it is'. People still get in and stay in abusive relationships. "The market will bear it". Obviously there's nothing to get upset about. Women "allow" themselves to be seen as meat, right??

Yeah, he'd have a fucking field day. (Note: I do not believe abuse is okay, but I'm trying to make a point. The standards of dress thing was a real arguement, however.)

But when I say something is out of wack and I don't like it, I get the "that's the way it is, there is no point in getting upset about it" lecture, that goes on and on and on. And after I tell him I don't appreciate being lectured, he lectures me again about how I shouldn't get upset about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That the lecture is my own fault!!?!

I can't take this. I just can't take this.

And there is spanakopita makings in the fridge. :( If I leave now, to go to my parents, it will be ruined. I hate wasting food. But I also do not want to be here right now. I'm too pissed the fuck off. Gods damn double standard. What the fuck. I just hate being lectured. I hate it.

FAIL

I'm a sad, frustated fuck-up. And that's really all I should probably say....

I had this big long rant prepared, but I don't see what good will be served by me sharing it.

I've alreadly fucked up. Over and over it seems. :( He's formed his opinion and I know it's eating him up inside. I can't seem to change it, every time I try I fail miserably.

What can I say? I'm broken, and I don't know how to fix me....

*sigh*

I seam to fuck up every good thing I have.....

It's times like these I really just want to crawl in a hole and hide. Only, I don't want to crawl in a hole and hide. I want a better fucking answer. I just really hate when everyone tells me what to do, tells me I'm only allowed one path. Why? Why can't I choose for myself? Why are my choices 'wrong'? Why are they 'beneath me'? Why aren't they fucking good enough?!

I just want a job I don't hate, that pays the bills, that doesn't bring me to tears every night and make me sick with stress. Why isn't that good enough?! It sounds like heaven from here.