dancinbutterfly: (Default)
I'm home in Atlanta. Thank fuck. Lord willing and the crick don' rise, I will never have to back to Florida(please please please G-d). The funeral was...I gave the eulogy. When I wasnt giving the eulogy, I was livetweeting the funeral. I wish I was kidding but I'm not. If you're curious, search for #livefromthefuneral because oh my god it was just - ugh. No. Just no. The parts of me that are involved in grieving were not engaged.

Also my mom and sister kept telling me how I should behave. What the actual fuck. I'm one of the primary mourners. So you cry hysterically. Thats okay but my hysterical laughter isnt? It's releasing the exact fucking emotion, mine just feels better. I was, by the way, hysterically laughing in the limo - I kept finding Archer references to things [i.e. the trip to the cemetery was "so boring and forever taking"] and discussion of how much we(my mother and I) dislike the Boca Raton area. The conversation went as follows:

Mom: Welcome to Tamarac formerly-
Me: -known as the everglades. Ugh.
Mom: Well, you know, some people like it? I guess? That's a nice drainage ditch over there...
Me: If I had to choose would rather die in Somalia by a gunshot wound to the head from a warlord and be buried there than die and be buried here in south Florida.
Mom: Nope. No Rachael, I'd rather be here with my ex-husband AND my ex in-laws than in Somalia with a warlord.
*cue hysterical laughter on my part because oh my god you guys, you dont understand how much she dislikes my dad now and how badly his parents treated her - you really dont*
Me: No I think you missed part of it. I said I'd rather die there than die in south Florida. And I definitely would rather be buried there than here. I've got no active desire to go to Somalia at the moment.
Mom: Oh well. *shrug* Okay then.
Me: Well I've got nothing against Somalia itself, unlike this place, and it's got a lower chance of sinking into the ocean like Atlantis when the glaciers melt and also I've heard its fairly mineral rich. Also, it's not south Florida.
Mom: No it is not.
Me:Point of this is - don't bury me down here.
Mom: Don't bury me down here either.

Other death and dad related things - did you know my mom went to a lawyer and got it in writing that if all 4 of us were to die all at once, she was NOT to be buried next to my dad? She got in the same writing that I was to be buried the FARTHEST from him? She got both of these things written and set up because, she said, she didn't want her and I to be next to him so he could torture us for eternity but my sister can handle him which is why she'd go between him and my mom. OH THE THINGS YOU LEARN.

Burying my grandmother was kind of strange too, although I'm glad she wasn't cremated. It's not the Jewish way for one but for another, it means she gets to be next to Papa forever. That's how it should be. The burial itself though... everyone was just - again this is just not where my heart is for grief. I live on gallows humor so someone - my aunt I think - noticed that the coffin had a tag or something on it. The 3 of them(mom, aunt, d-bag uncle) started to get upset and I go "Grammy worked in retail her whole life. She'd love that it has a tag." so they dont freak out but also because I think its funny and I think its true. Like I said, that's not where my heart lives.

My heart lives in the fact that I'm doing the walk back to the car - which in Jewish tradition has a GAUNTLET OF CONDOLENCES - and this man who was in my mom/uncle/aunts youth takes my hand and goes "I'm so sorry for your loss. You gave a lovely speech. I'm ______. I went to high school with your dad. I mean your uncle." Yeah, I got into the limo to lose my shit over that because all of my family is broken but of all of our shattered and missing pieces - my father is the only piece out of my family because he treated me so badly for so long. I have never met any of his friends from high school. I couldn't call him when she died. I can't call him on father's day because it'll open the door for me to get hurt more. I hurt over him at Grammy's funeral which, to quote Hyperbole and a Half - no....she wanted the opposite of this. Like I said - woman had no saliva and spit on him in her last days and told me not to listen to or care for him. Yet there I was, crying over him being missing at HER funeral. Argh. Frustrating.

I also find myself mourning harder for Dolores every time I think of Grammy. They knew each other. They liked each other a lot. Dolores should've fucking outlived Grammy. How did she NOT outlive Grammy? When grief hits me over my grandmother, it kicks the Dolores grief back on because the "dying peacefully in her sleep with her daughter and granddaughter with her in her sleep at 82" death makes sense and is something I can cope with but "dead by her own hand at 24 leaving behind a daughter with no mother" is fucking insane and I can't deal with it. I get thrown there every damn time too. So there's THAT to deal with.

Anyway. So. She left me all her movie den and movie stuff yes? I mentioned that. Well I really lost it when I walked into the movie den and saw this room that was basically Grammy in a nutshell. I had to call for my mom because I lost it so hard. Things like that are where I cry - not funerals.

My goodbye was not the funeral. My goodbye was much earlier. We found her passport in a lockbox with her money and important papers etc so we could pay bills and such. My mom, my sister and my cousin Caty(who is a nurse and who was caring for her too) are looking through the things and I asked "Can I have her passport? I'm going to go put it under her pillow. I mean, you know, last trip." because those of you who have been around me for awhile know that I have a strong wanderlust. Theres nothing like getting a new stamp in those pages. You're somewhere else, somewhere new, you've moved and have the passport to prove that you have and more importantly - that you CAN get up and go. I wanted her to have that with her - sort of like coins on the eyes for the ferryman almost. Putting that under her pillow and saying goodbye like that was it for me. I went into the bathroom(because zero space or privacy) with my ipod and phone and just cried in the semi-dark for awhile.

I got a lot of her clothes though. Most of them werent really things I want - she was 80! most of the retro stuff was given to her kids when she moved back in '03. But I got a lot of her skirts for work when work returns and I got the sequened tops I used to play dress-up in with my sister and cousins when I was a very little girl. They fit in a sexy way now, which is hilarious but I have them and I have her movies. Her fandom. Okay, I've started crying but you guys, oh god, it was five DVD racks, plus the four shelves on 2 tv stands of DVDs. God, there were also books and a hefty John Wayne keychain.

The last day she was REALLY coherent - not the last day she was alive but the last day she still had SPARK - we watched Blood Alley with John Wayne and then she fell asleep before the end. After that she didnt wake up long enough to finish it. I have it in my bag. I keep trying to figure out when is the right time to watch it because I have to know how it ends you know? I have to. Point is, I packed her fandom up and I'm taking it into my home and adding it to my own fandom.

My family - they dont really get it. My mom tries but she doesnt have anything she's fannish about(Game of Thrones a little but not like this) - they didn't get it. They knew she loved it, they knew it was her passion but I dont think they got it, the way it infiltrates your life, the way it holds you up and keeps you breathing. Her family was with her, and so was the Duke and her musicals and I just- I can't deal with how huge a deal that was. It makes me both love fandom more and more scared of it. She & I started loving these things we love at about the same age - 12/13 - and she was still loving them fiercely when she died. It's huge and it makes me ache so much.

In the interim between that and me getting home - there were isolation issues because my mom and sister were Busy Being Mourners, and I was at a hotel, and I was out watching hockey and drinking when my family was at the Douchebag Uncle's because I'm not welcome there. That's what happens when you point out that someone's grandiosity is nearly delusional, they're overbearing, and that they're disingenuous(not in so many words but thats basically what happened at The Worst Thanksgiving Ever). So D-bag Uncle was running the show and I was not part of the cast or crew. Right after I left the D-bag Uncle apparently went BATSHIT CRAZY(no seriously, my aunt/his sister got scared of him and LEFT) and that story will come later.

Now I'm home and able to see where things are fraying. I'm dissociated for long stretches. I'm compulsive eating again. The biggest thing? I'm having A(ctivites of)D(aily)L(iving) issues. I'm having problems getting out of bed for a start which isn't a surprise. Thats standard with grief/depression. No, what's freaking me out is that I'm having shower/bath issues. I dont know why but it takes a lot to actually make myself get in the fucking shower or bath. It's a hygiene issue that is BIG and is one of the MANY reasons why I'm still in treatment and on so many meds. Basically I'm listening to the Black Parade for comfort(and Cancer on repeat when I need a good cry because jesus fuck MCR. You don't hit any less hard with time. God I love all of you so much. So fucking much) and Save Rock&Roll, reading a lot of fic and poking everyone I know online for company. It's all I've got.

There'll be another post soon I imagine. Dolores' birthday is in 3 days. My birthday is in 6 days. On that day I lose my health insurance. Woo. I imagine I'll have some some sort of post by then. Maybe I'll figure out something to do? I dont know. Even my online friends are busy on Sat the 15th. Father's Day's the 16th dont you know. So. Yeah.

Plus side, I get to go back to regular therapy now that I'm home. Thank fuck.
dancinbutterfly: (Gone With The Wind)
Today my mom called to get me the car because a friend of a friend I've been trying to meet for the 9 days I've been in S. Florida was supposed to come here so I could have someone to hang out with for a few hours. "Be so glad you're not with the family." My mother said. "Your uncle is fucking crazy. Your sister will tell you one day. It's a stress ball." Needless to say when the Friend of A Friend had to cancel(shocker) I called her to try and make contact and she was like "Well you could come here but we're not really talking about her things or touching her stuff sooooo maybe you should stay there and chill out. No, go ahead and eat on your own. Trust me you dont want to be in this mess. You can come with when we go pick up your step-dad" *click* Okay. Um. Okay.

So needless to say I spent the day alone. Then we got my stepdad and we were going to get dinner but everything was closed so...I got a drink, watched the Penguins lose in a HUMILIATING 6-1 and went home - also alone.

I know you guys are out there. I do feel your love and your presence. My fairy godmother(Have I mentioned that I have a Fairy Godmother? I do. She's the best. She gives me hope.) got in touch with me again which helped loads. It's just - things are so fucked. You're all out there but you're too ephemeral and I need a more solid presence which I'm just not getting. Note all the, um, aloneness?

*drags hand over face* To add insult to all this injury, guess who had to plunge a dirty toilet in her own hotel room because there was no one to do it? Did you guess me? If you did you were right. Listen I didn't want to be here in the first place. I was fucking banished here like a treasonous prince but I understand that there are many people on earth in far worse states of being. However, payments were made for me to be here. That payment was for a room with clean sleeping quarters and working facilities. Expecting someone to fix them if they break is not unreasonable if I am in a room I paid for. This expectation is especially true as we live in a capitalist society where I'm going to lose my fucking healthcare in 11 days when I turn 26 as the WORST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER IMAGINED and the name of the game exchange of cash for goods and services. Cash was exchanged at this establishments so I am not out of line to I expect someone else to come and do this LITERAL shit job of a service for me when money was given.

But no. Things just keep being fuckawful. Tomorrow's the funeral then shiva. I imagine that will be fuckawful too.
dancinbutterfly: (Gone With The Wind)
My grandmother is dead. She died at about 11 right around the time the Fall Out Boy show would've been closing which actually is a good thing as it will make getting a tattoo for her easier. I'll be able to use a lyric if I want. And hey! My mom called me by 12:30 and came and picked me up from the bar where I'd be watching the Blackhawks/Kings game and drinking Cookies&Creme martinis and listening to Fall Out Boy(and thinking about how my Fairy Godmother came through again and I'd get to go in September at least :D) so she only waited like...an hour and 3 drinks to tell me.

But hey! It got my sister to initiate an ACTUAL PHYSICAL LITERAL HUG WITH ME! No, you guys dont understand. This is like that episode of the Big Bang Theory where Sheldon hugged Penny. That my sister initiated affectionate contact is a big deal. Refreshing too.

Then we stood around with her body for awhile because...I have no fucking idea. She looked like one of those ice mummys, as I've said. Dead bodies that are fresh basically look like dead bodies that are 5000 years old. Hope it helped my family. I'm still too emotionally fucked up from yesterday to be more than just like "okay and?" because guys. She's been dying since we got here a week ago.

I had my moments. You read most of them. They were hurtful and ugly as sin. Enough. My grammie was not that person. My real goodbye was something else and I'll talk about it later, probably after the funeral which will be, I dont know, Tuesday or Wednesday? Who fucking knows. I would like to note that yet again I have no idea whats going on. I'm alone but for once I'm kinda fucking relieved. I was too drunk to deal with their emotions tonight when I'm mostly just annoyed.

Anyway, she's dead. As someone said "They kicked you out and then she died." Yep. Looks that way I guess.

I dont know. Maybe I needed to leave for her to die? I dont know why it would make a difference that I wasnt there but my sister and mother were but I was the last person to leave and not come back of the people before she left so, as another internet person pointed out "Maybe you had to leave so she could leave too."

I dont know.

However I would like for you to take not that I used my Gone with the Wind icon in honor of Marilyn Esrig because I watched it for the first time with her at age 8 in her house in Birmingham Alabama. I remember that I got to stay up to the outrageously late time of after midnight to watch the whole thing with my cousin Michelle(the uncle's daughter) and that while she fell asleep half way through it, I pitched the most epic of all hissyfits when Rhett walked out the door declaring FRANKLY MY DEAR I DONT GIVE A DAMN and then DIDNT COME BACK! I was hooked way before that - on John Wayne with Hatari when I was too young to talk because OMG ELEPHANTS! ZEBRAS! MY FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH FOREIGN TRIBES ON TV WHERE THEY WERENT BELITTLED OR TREATED AS LESS THAN FOR BEING DIFFERENT THAN WHITE PEOPLE!, on Charleton Heston, Jimmy Stewart and Betty Hutton with the Greatest Show On Earth, on all things musical with The King and I and Fiddler on the Roof, on Katherine Hepburn with the African Queen - but I grew up in the buckle of the bible belt and once I saw Gone with the Wind, it was all over for me. I was in the movie hole with her and she knew it.

So I get it all, damnit. The movie den is mine. Every DVD. Every VHS. Every book. Every picture. Every poster. Every puzzle that is a scene from a film. It's all mine because when I look at the last half of my life and see fandom, I can trace it back to Grammie and know that its not just who I am, its who she is too.

Ten bucks says Uncle Douchebag tries to fight me on it. Bring it. Because now that she is gone I am ready to make the insipid motivational video intro video he made the biggest joke on the internet. I trust you guys will help me spread it to reddit, tumblr, twitter etc should the need arise.

So any road, may she rest in peace but that one step down right? Now we've just got the funeral. Then shiva. Then who the fuck knows. Packing maybe?

I am so fucked up you guys. Not necessarily about her dying. Just, you know. In general.
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
So. I woke up yesterday to my mother standing beside my bed asking if I was going to still go hang out with my aunt and if so I needed to get up now. Then she said "Also, you're going to stay with your uncle[whom some of you may remember from The Worst Thanksgiving Of All Time] or in a hotel. Decide."

I blinked at her. "Uh. Yeah I'm still going."

"And where are you staying? I need to know so I can start making arrangements while you pack so you'll be ready when you get back from your movie with Aunt Bonnie."

"Um, my uncle's?" Because you see he is a tremendous douchebag but he's still my family.

So she texts him. I check on the status and she says "He didnt get back to me." Texts twice. Then after an hour of my shoving everything I brought with me into my bags, news comes down - absolutely not, I cannot stay there. Nevermind that my Aunt is staying there. Nevermind that my cousins stayed there. Nevermind that my sister has stayed there. I, Rachael, am not allowed to stay there. So I go to a movie with Aunt Bonnie - Now You See Me (aka if TSN If Mark Were Into Magic Instead of Coding and ) - and come back, my mom has narrowed it down to 2 hotels. Best Western and LaQuinta. She books the first one LaQuinta and we get there and no, that one is a reservation but its too expensive - by ten bucks a night. So she moves me down the highway by 2 miles.

The whole time we're driving my mother's talking about how I'll be so relieved once I get there. I'll have my own space. I wont have to fight with anyone. There will be more space for anyone. I'll have more independence. Plus I can stay up as late as I want and I wont have to whisper into the phone at night. Won't that be great?

Forgetting the part that she couched being "sent" to a hotel as a threat the entire time I was here, and starting before I even left Atlanta. Her declaration and follow up punishment was penalty for my behavior - that behavior being me, existing on earth as Rachael who EVERYONE seems to find a problem. It was horrible to be banished by yet another family member. I'm at four now btw - father, sister, uncle, and now mother.

However, that isn't the biggest issue. Most of the people reading my journal have an idea of my trauma. They're aware of the fact that I have a severe mental illness and that I have PTSD that is linked to extreme traumatic transience. The reality of the situation yesterday was that my mom rousted me from my sleep with the message of "grab your shit and go." In case I'm not clear:

~She woke me up with an enactment of my worst nightmare. She told a PTSD victim who's illness is based in sudden moves in turbulent times to pack her things up, pick a place and go with no timeline on return. She even talked about how this was better than *living like we did during the hurricane* which is my PTSD point of origin.~

As I told my mom, triggers arent like spiders.They arent gone once you step on them. They're more like huge rocks you drop on a calm lake. It can take anywhere from hours to weeks for the waves the refreshed trauma to still again.

Then she came in and flopped on the bed like she wanted to stay and hang out all "ah isnt this room great? I didnt scream at her or call her a piece of shit or a hateful cuntface or any of the things I wanted to do like, scream at her or slap her across the face. I'm still angry. I can function calmly and rationally but oh god I am so angry.

So thats the state of my union. I'm currently staying in a very comfortable but empty hotel room. Waiting for my grandmother's body to catch up with her spirit and let loose this mortal coil. Alone. Because I was a bad girl. Not a woman 13 days away from her 26th birthday who chose to do it that way - but because I was a bad girl and I needed to be punished and since I lack a car, money, or any agency over my own life - I was put in a higher class version of the corner. For my friends in Hockey fandom - it's a bit like Two Minutes For Being Matt Cooke - only in this instance its Banished From Most Family Moments For Being Rachael.

Fall Out Boy is probably just getting rolling right now and I'm at a sports bar watching hockey. Say it with me class! Alone.

Honestly the only things that are stopping me from giving into this feeling: having to explain it to her as a my therapist[omg such a hassle], knowing I'd have to clean up after whatever bad choice I made because I hate cleaning, refusal to do anything that could risk me not being in perfect condition for ComicCon in July and TV: I need to see if Lucrezia and Cesare get their shit together on Borgias, Teen Wolf is returning and one day I'll get to watch that, and in the fall there will be Agents of SHEILD, American Horror Story, and Archer.

Wow. I have a sad empty lonely fucking life. Look at that. The reasons I have not to give into this despair are TV, dislike of cleaning, dislike of explaining my misbehavior to authority figures and ComicCon. Just when I thought I couldn't feel more alone.
dancinbutterfly: (Farscape - Save Me -John)
I got a lovely comment today checking on me to see how I am. At which point I realized I havent given you a status update.

How I am is fucking horrific and what's up is that my grandmother is dying. Not she's got cancer and is dying. Not oh now she's at stage 4 and is dying.

No, we're at hospice comes every day, we change her and try to help keep her lips and mouth dry, hold her hand, and literally hoping for her to die because she's ready to go and we're ready for her to go but we come from sturdy stock that will never quit and is going to keep going until ever wears out.

I flew in on Saturday night and she was awake enough to talk. Sunday was a decent day and we got to talk/see her and my cousins were there too. Monday we had last-words sort of things where I was told 1)that its so good that I have substitute teaching, a REAL job, because she was worried about me with trying to make a living "with the writing" 2) that I look so great and if I could just lose 10lbs I would be perfect 3)that she is terrified for me that I should end up 700lbs and have to get carted out of my house 4)that I am not to help my father even if he's dying in the street[the woman had no saliva but spit at my father with one of her dying acts] because he isnt worth the ground he walks on and I'm not to talk to him let alone take care of him when he's old and that 5)I'm too smart, so much smarter than most people and people hate that 6)so I have to act average and only show my smarts later so I can get by in the world.

That did make me feel like GUTTING myself or any anything. Not like she hit on all of the things that I hurt me the most. Not like my weight and my complete lack of faith in my ability to pursue writing and my conflicted father issues and feeling like a fucking freak ALL the time because I know more than most people in a given room. As if I didnt know I have to act average in order to interact with the world - as if the last week of failing miserably at: impulse control, modesty, having an instinct on when a conversation is over, keeping my mouth shut, making small talk, being a general disaster hasnt been evidenced enough.

If I werent aware before my grandmothers last coherent words, my sister and mother have both made it DAMN fucking clear how badly i'm doing here how wrong I am to be here, how everything I do is a mistake, how I'm in the way, not part of this, shouldnt be here. Granted the rest of my cousins came. They all were here and had their time (or if they didnt got talked about for not). I'm here because she was my favorite. I'm here because fuck all of them I was her favorite.

The thing about this is - I was SPECIFICALLY TOLD that I would be getting no emotional support from my mom when I came down here. Fine. I dont need it, I said. [personal profile] knight_tracer stocked me up with podfics that have been really amazing - so good for my nerves and my soul. She's a sweetie that way. I have my therapist(true, I had a session on monday) and theres a couple other people who have tried but foolishly I thought that my internet friends would be more of a support than than they are.

God, I am so STUPID. People WARNED ME. They WARNED me for a DECADE that the friends you meet online arent your friends until you get to know them in real life(I'm looking at you Hardwire Harlots)but I didnt listen. I thought that they were even if you never saw their faces or heard their voices. I thought that after fifteen years online I'd made REAL connections you know?

Only the longer this drags on - and oh god it drags and drags - I'm finding thats not true. I'm just alone. The names I reach out to are empty. How stupid can I possibly be?

So now, not only am I under a barrage of constant verbal attacks from my sister that have me scrambling to change everything I can about myself in a desperate bid not to get attacked again. Please, god please, just let me have gotten it right this time. I just want to fix it so I stop getting attacked. Thats all. I want to just breathe. I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry.

Then I'm surrounded by sadness and tension to tight you could turn it into a cord and garrot someone with it and am realizing that I'm alone. I am all alone. I mean, intellectually, I knew that I was alone? I had just sort of deluded myself into thinking that these words on a screen were attached to people who cared on the other side.

However, as much as the sexual assault made me realize how kind and supportive everyone on here is, this current has made me realize how deeply alone I am. It's pointless to try and get with the people I consider my closest friends. They're in other corners of the earth. If they're not they busy with their husbands/wives/children, they have prearranged activities or better friends and plans they made before I ever entered the picture. This isnt a new thing. I've never been first for anyone and I dont know why that would change now. I've pretty much never been anyone's best friend(i've had lots of people as MY best friend but I was never THEIRS) and thats most keenly noticed since Kaci and I's friendship disintergrated. I have people who try now, here on LJ and on Twitter too but...I dont have anyone I feel like I can turn to and say "Help me." Not with this. Not with the request of being with me when things are hard and I cant be funny or clever or entertaining. I don't have friends for a reason I figure. Being with me isnt something most people want. Most of the time of I force myself to be okay with it.

After a week watching a woman I love die by centimeters, I'm not strong enough to pretend it's not one of the main reasons I'm up typing and crying at 3:55am.

Oh. Wait. In a final bit of hilarious fate: I DONT GET TO SEE FALL OUT BOY TOMORROW! I've only been waiting for 5 years for this and now, boom, chance gone. Isn't that silly? My grandma is dying but I'm still let down. Plus, the part of me that gets paid less than 20K a year is angry about $50 down the drain. I was going to get a tour hoodie. I was going to finally have seen all the bandom bands and know that I'd survived to see them all play - Panic, MCR and FOB.

I waited for years for them to come back and they did, just in time for my world to fall apart again. I'm pretty sure the arena show inAtlanta is already sold out so, you know maybe in another 5 years when I'm 30 I'll get to see them. I really hope I'll be alive then. I dont mean that in a self-destructive way its just...with the way things keep going I dont hope for much anymore you know? The tenth person in my graduating class of 250 died this week so I'm just saying. I used to wish for things like a family - someone to love, kids, friends, a career I liked, living somewhere I didnt hate. Now, the way things are going, getting to live to see 30 and maybe Fall Out Boy with like...one friend who is really there for me? Thats the new dream.
dancinbutterfly: (Old Spice -  THE TICKETS ARE NOW DIAMOND)
So, today is my birthday - I made it to 25 years old. Honestly, there were some times in the last year when I was a little scared I wouldn't but I did and now I am in an amazing place. Also this morning I had cake for breakfast:P

I have friends and a life here and last night I had an early fondue party at a very famous restaurant called Dante's Down the Hatch - where they have an actual ship inside and an alligator who lives in the freaking moat around the freaking ship CRAZY! It was amazing and hopefully will set the tone for the rest of this year and be amazing and fun.

You have to see this platter to believe it )
dancinbutterfly: (Old Spice -  THE TICKETS ARE NOW DIAMOND)
So, today is my birthday - I made it to 25 years old. Honestly, there were some times in the last year when I was a little scared I wouldn't but I did and now I am in an amazing place. Also this morning I had cake for breakfast:P

I have friends and a life here and last night I had an early fondue party at a very famous restaurant called Dante's Down the Hatch - where they have an actual ship inside and an alligator who lives in the freaking moat around the freaking ship CRAZY! It was amazing and hopefully will set the tone for the rest of this year and be amazing and fun.

You have to see this platter to believe it )
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
Does anyone have palms that get really hot? Lately my palms have been hot and sweaty and it's super uncomfortable. I cant figure out why or whats different. I havent changed my dosage of medication or anything. I've started keeping ice cubes or cups of cold water around so that I have something cold to hold onto to counter the feeling. It's very weird. Any thoughts oh wise FList?
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
Does anyone have palms that get really hot? Lately my palms have been hot and sweaty and it's super uncomfortable. I cant figure out why or whats different. I havent changed my dosage of medication or anything. I've started keeping ice cubes or cups of cold water around so that I have something cold to hold onto to counter the feeling. It's very weird. Any thoughts oh wise FList?

Gorgeous

Sep. 20th, 2011 12:21 am
dancinbutterfly: (Random - Kronk)


I can't stop staring at this.

Gorgeous

Sep. 20th, 2011 12:21 am
dancinbutterfly: (Random - Kronk)


I can't stop staring at this.

Okay then.

Sep. 11th, 2011 09:51 pm
dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
My time from 9/11 to now isnt particularly optimistic or profound so I'm giving it one paragraph. )

Instead, of dwelling I made a list - it is not unlike Col. Gentleman's List of Toys He Wishes He Had As A Kid But They Werent Invented Yet(TM) or Col. Gentleman's List of Hollywood Actresses That Should Get a Smack In The Mouth(TM). This one is a bit less controversial or impressive and is simply...

[livejournal.com profile] dancinbutterfly's List of Icons She Wants That Dont Exist and She Lacks The PhotoShop Skills to Create:

  • Suits icon - ft Harvey and Jessica and says "I'm sorry, I cant hear you over the sound of how awesome I am"

  • Panic at the Disco icon - Brendon undressing on stage at the Milwaukee show that says "My body is ready."

  • Torchwood icon - rotating gif ft. Gwen Cooper, Esther Drummond, Jilly Kitzinger, Vera Juarez, Mama Cooper, and Charlotte Gills that says "HBICs" (sidenote: because they are ALL bamfs - dead or alive)

  • Venture Bros icon - Henchman 21 and Henchman 24's skull that says "Alas poor 24, I knew him well."

  • Captain America icon - Steve Rogers perplexed face with the text "Do you fondue?"

Okay then.

Sep. 11th, 2011 09:51 pm
dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
My time from 9/11 to now isnt particularly optimistic or profound so I'm giving it one paragraph. )

Instead, of dwelling I made a list - it is not unlike Col. Gentleman's List of Toys He Wishes He Had As A Kid But They Werent Invented Yet(TM) or Col. Gentleman's List of Hollywood Actresses That Should Get a Smack In The Mouth(TM). This one is a bit less controversial or impressive and is simply...

[livejournal.com profile] dancinbutterfly's List of Icons She Wants That Dont Exist and She Lacks The PhotoShop Skills to Create:

  • Suits icon - ft Harvey and Jessica and says "I'm sorry, I cant hear you over the sound of how awesome I am"

  • Panic at the Disco icon - Brendon undressing on stage at the Milwaukee show that says "My body is ready."

  • Torchwood icon - rotating gif ft. Gwen Cooper, Esther Drummond, Jilly Kitzinger, Vera Juarez, Mama Cooper, and Charlotte Gills that says "HBICs" (sidenote: because they are ALL bamfs - dead or alive)

  • Venture Bros icon - Henchman 21 and Henchman 24's skull that says "Alas poor 24, I knew him well."

  • Captain America icon - Steve Rogers perplexed face with the text "Do you fondue?"

dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
So, um, all the hurricane talk is triggering the shit out of me. To say that hurricanes shaped who I am is a terrific understatement I cant really begin to describe.

I grew up on a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico and one of my sharpest childhood memories is of evacuating for hurricane Opal when I was eight. My mother took me and my little sister by the shoulder, handed us each an empty bag and said "Go to your room and get the things you want to take with you. We may not ever be able to come back." I brought a couple of stuffed animals, a book and my baby blanket. I was eight. My parents were still together then and we evacuated by 2 cars. Me, my sister and my mom with the dog in one car; my father the cats and most of the THINGS (i.e. some clothing, photo albums, the art my mother had done herself, the blankets my greatgrandmother knitted, those sorts of things) in the other headed north to my grandmother's in Birmingham. We ended up spending that night halfway between Pensacola and Birmingham sleeping in a small Baptist church *waves a hand* somewhere in southern Alabama on Yom Kippur. I remember there was red carpet and, as a little Jewish girl, I was a little afraid they would kick us out because we weren't Christian and back into the storm. Of course they didn't. They were wonderful. There was cookies and I watched Forrest Gump for the first time. But that's my first big hurricane memory. Opal was bad but I was too young to realize how very bad even though we were couldn't go home for months and school was moved.

The majority of my PTSD comes from the fallout of Hurricane Ivan(the I hurricanes man, they're bastards) in 2004. I was displaced for almost a year, never really settled back down, missed school, and in general had the craziest senior year ever. There's a lot more there I'm just not going to dwell on it because unlike the Opal story, Ivan doesnt have as happy an ending.

So I'm not going to downplay what my brethren on the coastline could be facing. Unfortunately, I cant avoid it because everyone is talking about it so instead I'll give you a rundown of what 20 years in Hurricane Alley and a good 10 major hurricanes have taught me.


Quick tips for Hurricane Newbies )
dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
So, um, all the hurricane talk is triggering the shit out of me. To say that hurricanes shaped who I am is a terrific understatement I cant really begin to describe.

I grew up on a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico and one of my sharpest childhood memories is of evacuating for hurricane Opal when I was eight. My mother took me and my little sister by the shoulder, handed us each an empty bag and said "Go to your room and get the things you want to take with you. We may not ever be able to come back." I brought a couple of stuffed animals, a book and my baby blanket. I was eight. My parents were still together then and we evacuated by 2 cars. Me, my sister and my mom with the dog in one car; my father the cats and most of the THINGS (i.e. some clothing, photo albums, the art my mother had done herself, the blankets my greatgrandmother knitted, those sorts of things) in the other headed north to my grandmother's in Birmingham. We ended up spending that night halfway between Pensacola and Birmingham sleeping in a small Baptist church *waves a hand* somewhere in southern Alabama on Yom Kippur. I remember there was red carpet and, as a little Jewish girl, I was a little afraid they would kick us out because we weren't Christian and back into the storm. Of course they didn't. They were wonderful. There was cookies and I watched Forrest Gump for the first time. But that's my first big hurricane memory. Opal was bad but I was too young to realize how very bad even though we were couldn't go home for months and school was moved.

The majority of my PTSD comes from the fallout of Hurricane Ivan(the I hurricanes man, they're bastards) in 2004. I was displaced for almost a year, never really settled back down, missed school, and in general had the craziest senior year ever. There's a lot more there I'm just not going to dwell on it because unlike the Opal story, Ivan doesnt have as happy an ending.

So I'm not going to downplay what my brethren on the coastline could be facing. Unfortunately, I cant avoid it because everyone is talking about it so instead I'll give you a rundown of what 20 years in Hurricane Alley and a good 10 major hurricanes have taught me.


Quick tips for Hurricane Newbies )
dancinbutterfly: (Entourage - Cuddle)
Lets talk for a second about the evil-and-slightly-emotionally-abusive-ex-who-I-am-still-foolishly-in-love-with of TV shows: Entourage.

For those of you who know me from before I dove head first into bandom - you know that once upon a time, Entourage was my main fandom. It was devouring. I wrote 100s of thousands of words of fic and watched every episode multip le times for ...I dont know, plot and depth.

Well season 6 was a chore, 7 was horrific clusterfuck of disaster and so far season 8 is just. Agony. )

That is the fucking show we are dealing with now. And yet? *sighs* I can't look away.
dancinbutterfly: (Entourage - Cuddle)
Lets talk for a second about the evil-and-slightly-emotionally-abusive-ex-who-I-am-still-foolishly-in-love-with of TV shows: Entourage.

For those of you who know me from before I dove head first into bandom - you know that once upon a time, Entourage was my main fandom. It was devouring. I wrote 100s of thousands of words of fic and watched every episode multip le times for ...I dont know, plot and depth.

Well season 6 was a chore, 7 was horrific clusterfuck of disaster and so far season 8 is just. Agony. )

That is the fucking show we are dealing with now. And yet? *sighs* I can't look away.
dancinbutterfly: (MCR - Hero!Bob - No Bullshit)
Dear family, dear friends, dear acquaintances - dear everyone whose think they have any fucking right to ask me questions from my mother to the stranger in the mall - just STOP.

Stop giving me ideas of what I can do with my life with creative writing as my major. Stop making suggestions about what I should do in terms of a post-uni job. Stop suggesting that you know anything about how or what I write when you have no fucking idea. Stop throwing numbers involving debt and loans at me. Stop telling me places where they are hiring. Stop asking me questions about what I want to do. Leave me be. Stop asking me where I went to school and what I thought of it.

Yes this is real life. Yes I have to deal with it at some point but I graduate Saturday. Can I please just have the next four days in fucking peace to not try and figure out where I'm going, what I'm doing, how I'm going to do it, and when it will be done? Yeah that would be super fucking great.

STOP IT NOW.

No fucking love at all,
Me
dancinbutterfly: (MCR - Hero!Bob - No Bullshit)
Dear family, dear friends, dear acquaintances - dear everyone whose think they have any fucking right to ask me questions from my mother to the stranger in the mall - just STOP.

Stop giving me ideas of what I can do with my life with creative writing as my major. Stop making suggestions about what I should do in terms of a post-uni job. Stop suggesting that you know anything about how or what I write when you have no fucking idea. Stop throwing numbers involving debt and loans at me. Stop telling me places where they are hiring. Stop asking me questions about what I want to do. Leave me be. Stop asking me where I went to school and what I thought of it.

Yes this is real life. Yes I have to deal with it at some point but I graduate Saturday. Can I please just have the next four days in fucking peace to not try and figure out where I'm going, what I'm doing, how I'm going to do it, and when it will be done? Yeah that would be super fucking great.

STOP IT NOW.

No fucking love at all,
Me
dancinbutterfly: (Zombieland - Tallahassee)
Things in real life got very complicated very fast once ComicCon ended you guys. I got trapped in San Diego for about two days (Thanks so much Delta) at which point, my father decided to call me for the first time in months and it's was pretty devastating. I cried like a little girl in the airport. Then I had my finals - three of them back to back, the last exams of my college experience and wasn't that fucking stressful as hell? My sister and mother were out of town so I had to take care of that and just - a lot of stress. Then there's financial aid problems that never got solved in May and oh yeah? Did I mention that I was in car wreck before I left for ComicCon? There's that too.

Today I spent a rather large amount of time fighting with financial aid at FSU and. Um. I fired my psychiatrist. Shit gets a tiny bit real under the cut and I cut it because I have mental health issues and dont want to trigger you with them if thats the sort of thing that will set you off )

Oh yeah, and I graduate from university with a bachelors in English, focus on Creative Writing on Saturday. So, yes. This whole fucking week is scary and exhausting and just...as amazing as ComicCon was - things are rough in Rachael World. I'm fine but it's not the easiest going so if I'm slow to respond to you - thats why.

On the fannish side - I'm still taking prompts over at the whole Hypothetical AU meme post because it's fun and I am living and breathing distractions right now. If you havent dropped an idea over there, feel free. I'd love to have something else to think about - like, IDK, what it'd be like if Charles Xavier were the blond chick equivalent in Clan of the Cave Bear or if Bebe were a high class call girl and the Black Cards were a fancy shmancy escort agency or something. I dont know. What I do know is that I am really not ready to think about my world right now. Next week maybe but right now lets talk about other worlds instead.

*adjusts tinfoil hat and climbs into her pillow fort to wait this shit out*

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