Ending it.

So I've been trying to decide how to end the blog. It was only supposed to be over the course of a year, a take-down of my life as I tried to regain some sort of control over my own future. Instead of going to California, I ended up staying in Florida until August and, in August, moved to a state that I only thought about when watching 'Pocahantas' - a cold state, filled with horrible traffic and not a single person I knew.

While here, I grabbed a job, I made friends. Good friends, I think. I realized just how much I still had to learn about myself and that in order to do it, I have to step away from the familiar. For the first time in a long time, I finally began to grow up, whether or not anyone could see it, myself included.

When January rolled around and time to end the blog came, I tried to figure out how to end it all. January 2nd was going to be the last day, my 24th birthday. It happened to be the single most miserable birthday I've ever experienced, and I'm including the ones from 9-19 when I was an undiagnosed bipolar disordered person.

I posted nothing, because I couldn't decide what to say. This blog was never popular, only one or two people reading when I made a new post, and that never bothered me. The purpose of this, other than documenting it for myself, was to keep my family in touch with what I was doing in this new place, and how I was doing - Mom, especially, and Ashley.

Mid-January rolled around, and along came the birthday of my best friends late-father, Mr. Larry. He once told me that life itself is an adventure, and that while he loved me, I was doing no one any favors by holing myself up from the world. He said, I was the best friend his daughter had (because boys who were friends would later leave for other girls), I needed to encourage her to grow up along with me, and she would do the same.

He passed away when I was in the depths of my depression, on the verge of suicide. I didn't make it to his funeral, so consumed by my own grief of his passing, and my inability to cope with anything beyond lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I've never forgiven myself for that.

I like to think Mr. Larry has. Forgiven me, that is. I hope my friend has; we rarely talk about him.

On his birthday, I realized I wasn't ready to put away this blog; it contained a turbulent year of my life, something outside of the depression and the small bubble I kept myself in. Things happened, things changed, I got caught up on bills, of all things. I may be moving out, depending on work circumstances - I may be moving back to Florida, or Wisconsin, or to anywhere I damn well feel like going.

This year is a changing year for reasons outside of last year. My 23rd year on this Earth was taken up by discovery of, damn, I can do things. My 24th started off horribly, and I'm hoping will be filled with discoveries of myself, not just being able to complete things in my life.

So, O Reader(s), there will be another year of this blog. I'm hoping to update more frequently, with more things now going on in my life. Fingers crossed that this year will improve the same way that last year did (Car accident = no Cali = Virginia, Horrible birthday = GOOD YEAR, darnit).

Until next time, with new updates, with new awesome.

Yours.

Oh, holy crap

I missed the one year mark? Holy shizznit on a pogo stick! I thought today was the one year mark but... Well, my memory was never anything awesome to begin with.

So, blog, it's been a year. I started out on December 10th making the decision I would move to California and in with a friend. Since then, I've been in a car accident, was unable to move, was dumped by friend, saw Beth, cleaned my room, was laid off from both jobs, became depressed and poor with unemployment, moved to Northern Virginia, got a job I like, met people I like, and ended up crushing hard on a girl I like.

I didn't end up in northern Cali - I ended up in NoVa. Everyone I knew except for my dad are miles and miles away, I have a job at a place I never even thought I would. It's been crazy. I'm not even sure what to do with myself at this point or what to think.

It almost feels normal. The place we're living in doesn't feel like home but each day I drive to work, confident in my ability to drive to work without a GPS. Someone says, 'it's right off Machen' and I know what they mean. I have a social life, one outside of the internet and with people I met all on my own.

Bills still aren't getting paid on time but I'll get there. The important ones - car insurance, car payment - those are. My student loans are (I think).

I'll be posting every day until January 1st, O Blog. It's time to start kicking this up and finish with a bang.

Aka, I'll start writing actually funny stuff as opposed to things about my day-to-day life. Who knows. Maybe it'll be something worth reading.

Dear lord, this has been way too long

I've actually written this out about ten times before I actually type it out. Sad thing is that I haven't actually written this out by hand - the rest of them are all going to waste. What happened, may you ask?

Unemployment sucks for things to discuss. I did not want to delve into awesome things of the past anymore, nor did I want to talk about what a miserable time I was having at not having a job. But! The very last day of September, I started my current job and things sort of... exploded.

Going from waking up at one in the afternoon and doing absolutely nothing all day to getting up at six am and working forty hours a week is - well, let's just call it 'jarring', to say the very least. Mind you, I rather enjoy my job despite all the pitying looks people give me when I say that.

Yes. I enjoy my job. For the most part, the customers are awesome, the pay doesn't suck, I will get benefits (even if they will take a while), and it's possible that I will get a place to stay if I get promoted. It's no ideal, it is not what I want out of life, and if I stay there for a few years, so what? I'll get my education and I am still planning to go back to Florida to get the certification for editing and publishing. The worst part of the job are those looks, the ones that ask, well, why do you enjoy this? You poor girl, you like this so much. All of those things.

Granted, the job includes old men and delivery guys asking me out on dates or to parties but hey, whatever.

On that note: I am not 'out' at work. That's all I have to say on the subject.

With the social life front, things are fantastic. Not everyone is as thrilled as I am at the turn of events but, hot darn, I have me some friends. I met them through National Novel Writing Month so there's always the chance I may not see them frequently, if at all, after the month is over but I would like to toss my eggs into a basket for a bit. It sounds like a good basket to throw them in.

I'm not really sure if I should use names or pretend names or whatever in this journal. I don't think any of them know about the blog and if they'd appreciate being named in it. It isn't as if I'm about to start flinging mud at anyone but, to be on the safe side, I'm just going to refer to them by things that remind me of them.

There's Synopse, a totally wickedly awesome girl who knits and crochets and doesn't mind me having no clue what it is despite multiple explanations. We get along quite well and tomorrow she is going to (supposed to be) chill out with me for a few hours tomorrow night after the write in. She's quite the awesome cat. There is Herd of Boys, only one of which I can see myself hanging out with on a semi-regular basis. They tend to get very intense while in discussions, to a level I don't even see at most anime conventions. That said, if someone punched me in the throat, they may get a bit upset. There is ML, who is just badass all around and I was going to call 'Handwarmers' but realized I may confuse her with Synopse. ML is perhaps one of the coolest moms I've ever met in my age group, she's funny, super nice, and it takes a LOT to shock her. I dig it. There is Pixie and Pixie 2, two girls who have known each other for years and it shows. They're funny, very cuddly girls. And they drink! I miss drinking. There is Netbook, Science, and Handwrite as well, but I don't see them as often.

I went out to this big town center place on Thursday with Synopse. We wandered around the ice rink, grabbed some food and then chilled out in this French bakery ... place. It had yummy pastries and while we meant to write, we ended up gabbing the entire time. It was fun to just sit around and talk and have fun, get used to the cold and bounce around with it.

Saturday night was the Night of Writing Dangerously - we hit up George Mason U to write for a few hours. Homemade truffles were dispersed, words were written. Synopse and I got into a foot war that ended in a deadlock and at the end of the night, I was running around in jeans, a tank top, arm warmers, and a hat. It was truly awesome.

Tomorrow night is my last write-in here in Virginia and then I fly into Florida on Wednesday to hang out with people, pack up my stuff, and get back up here. My early December paycheck will suck so hard it's ridiculous but I've MISSED those guys. And my pets. And the people there.

I'm horribly excited. The only downside is that it means no more write-ins with the new people. But! I have either their cell numbers or IMs or both so it means our happy butts can keep in touch. Someone suggested during the NWD that we have semi-regular meetups and see what goes down, see if we can keep writing, etc, etc.

Long story/post short? Life is getting better. I'm meeting people, working, paying bills. It means not as much time online as I used to be but - really, that's not a bad thing. People on and offline have been telling me to get a life for years now. I just finally have the opportunity.

I WILL be posting soon, hopefully while in Florida.

Until next time!

New Job, More Thinking About Stuff.

A friend and I were talking about five minutes ago. She just made cupcakes for her roommates birthday tomorrow - I think tomorrow? At some point in the future. I mentioned I'd always wanted a surprise party. It's been brought up once or twice among friends back in Florida and while I don't remember all of the reactions, I do recall Ashley looking at me doubtfully and saying, "Well, Erin, you're the party planner of the group."

I hoped anyway. Maybe that was a clever decoy! Or, you know, that was the way I was told it was never going to happen. I think I'm the only one dumb enough to plan a party over a month and a half in advance - Andi's was almost a year in planning. Party in a van, man. Party in a van. It wasn't disappointing, not really. I had been warned, after all. Still, I brought it up each year near to my birthday (and Christmas but, really, my birthday is cooler than Jesus).

Moral of that weirdly emo story: if anyone had been planning on throwing me on for my 24th, they wouldn't have a choice now. I won't be in Florida for my birthday. Andrea is in Wisconsin. Chances are I won't make (good) enough friends by January 2nd to throw me a birthday party. I see a quiet dinner with Dad and sitting up alone on my computer after he goes to bed at 9pm.

JesusAllahBuddhaLakshmi, that's depressing.

I miss Jordan, I really do. Out of all the friends I've made in my life, she was the one I've connected to the quickest. We met through my ex, Birdie, and at a party. Almost instantly we got along and I would have probably flirted if Birdie hadn't gotten rather intoxicated and done stupid things. We started texting the day after the party (after a delicious brunch with another girl from the party) and on finding out she lived so close, we hung out constantly. Most of our nights together ended with meaningful conversations on her countertop, either eating one dollar microwave pizza or five dollar fresh pizza from the Domino's down the street.

Before my move, Jordan was my saving grace. She gave me something of a life outside of my standard circle, encouraged me to keep writing and be more outgoing, be more me. She always had nice things to say, some so nice I don't feel like writing them down here because of how special they are to me.

I miss her. I need a Virginia-Jordan. I need someone who gets me almost instantly, who will listen to my inane theories and methods and counter them with their own. My stupid tiers were thrown asunder the moment I left Florida.

Work starts October 1st. It sounds as if I will be working with a variety of people (in five locations), which will be fun! I'm rather terrified of starting this new job just, out of the blue, with no one there I've ever met but it will be an adventure. Maybe someone will be around my age or know places I could go to actually meet flesh and blood people. There's always the possibility of making friends if only for the fact I will be getting out of the house and meeting people.

This entire post has been nothing but a huge emofest. My apologies, O Readers! I've been preoccupied with grumpy things and being excited over my mother visiting - I'll be able to see her this weekend! She's going to Washington D.C., and we're meeting up at Union Station. Hopefully we'll be able to stay up late to gab or. Something. I don't know. There will be crying?

Who knows. Until next time!

Neglect, neglect, neglect.

Poor journal, I've left you high and dry. You'd think since no life or job exists for me, I'd be able to post more. Thing is - with my life the way it is, there's very little for me to post about until after or before the weekends.

Weekends are when my dad is home all day and we actively go out and do things. No matter what I act like, I actually have a lot of fun. Sometimes during the day after we haven't eaten for a while, my blood sugar absolutely plummets and it leaves me either grumpy. If we're driving past a lot of green things, I stare out the window because, hello, Florida doesn't have green like this place has.

Have I posted pictures of this freaking green? ... No?

GREEN!

It's a rare thing, folks. Not so much here but for a Florida girl? Totally.

I was just told that apples are now in season. I think it's time for me to try to go with that interest I've always had with more extensive baking. Poor Daddio may soon be bombarded by a slew of apple-related deliciousness, especially apple pie. No home made crusts, just yet - the last time was an utter disaster and the money needed to purchase those ingredients just aren't in my pocket book.

That leads into Thanksgiving. It's right around the corner! Last year I was unable to make my fragging pumpkin pie I'd been looking forward to. I had forgotten the condensed milk at home with no way to get to the market. Pie crust and home-smashed pumpkin puree gone to waste. If the summers apple pie turns out to be a success, I may attempt to do that this year as well as the pecan pie as my pies are delicious, thanks, and just put together a smaller portion of sweet potato casserole than I usually do.

I think I've lost weight since coming to Virginia. Sounds odd but things are fitting better, shirts drape nicer than before. I haven't been exercising a lot (read: at all) but maybe not living right next to two gas stations and a neighborhood Wal-Mart may have something to do with my milder eating habits. If this is the case, awesome. I don't mind losing weight/inches if it's because I'm not eating like a candy-starved piglet anymore.

I miss karate.

Hells bells, I miss writing and the ability to draw properly. Being stuck inside because I lack any social graces isn't helping. I'm tempted to invade Dad's campus and just wander, go to the bookstore or library, chill in the cafeteria and eat there, try to write. I write well in public.

Okay. Werewolf story will be finished by the 15th, it is decided. So there.

Until next time, readers!

Hello, September!

I've worked myself into a steady and yet erratic daily schedule. I'm not exactly sure how that happened. It usually involves waking up around nine thirty or ten, stumbling out of bed in order to see if any caffeine has been brewed up. After a cup or two, I reach some semblance of normality and collapse in front of my computer.

E-mail is checked. The next few hours are spent slugging caffeine down my gullet, chatting online with various people, and applying for as many jobs as I can possibly muster. Unfortunately, most of the jobs I've encountered in the last twelve hours require cover letters. That takes up half of my day. It's kind of sucky but like Kelly said - it's can be the difference between death and job.

Daddio comes home around two thirty, three in the afternoon. We either chill around the house doing various things and watching such-and-such shows on the television and I continue to chat online and apply for jobs. It makes my brain hurt. Somedays we go out to explore or eat! It wakes us both up.

Bedtime is usually done around two in the morning and the entire thing starts right back over again. I've began to do Rosetta Stone again (feeling like such a newbie because I've forgotten a few things) and every so often attempt to write or draw but I'm just not feeling it. Maybe it's because I don't want to go outside in case I get accosted by the landlords brother again. Yes. Not son but brother, as in around the same age as my grandfather of a landlord. Gross.

I think I'm going to do Rosetta Stone for an hour every other day and put aside a half an hour (at least) towards editing and writing. Or writing. Who knows? I can get involved in a piece to the point where several hours pass and I run out of ink in order to do anything. My werewolf story isn't anywhere close to being finished and it needs to be. After all, the name of werewolves and sociopaths needs to be redeemed - can't have sparkles and guys in ripped short shorts ruining everything for the genre.

It starts tonight. I'll say it starts at three and I will be offline for at least half an hour while I edit. Rosetta Stone will be tomorrow. Editing/writing is more important than learning Japanese. Besides, people are home and I feel awkward practicing languages with others being able to listen. It's weird.

My expectations for employment have started to lower. I didn't want retail or anything because, well, I hate it. With a passion. A few places non-retail are hiring people with my (lack of) experience. When I expressed anger at being unqualified for the positions I wanted and the fact the only way to get it was unpaid internship (where I would be ineligible for unemployment because I was not available all hours of the day), someone pointed out that I was supposed to work full time to pay the bills while also doing an internship.

So, that's what I suppose I'll do. Get a job first and then a part-time internship. Kelly gave me a very useful site, where there are some internships that are only twenty hours or so a week. That's do-able. Even if I get a full time job, that's only sixty hours. I'd still have time to go out and volunteer at the local library as I wanted to when I first came here to Virginia.

Plan of attack is officially in place. I am excited. Even if the job is something I despise, at least I'll have other 'jobs' that I enjoy. It'll be alright.

Now, I go to edit. Until next time!

I forgot how much I hate unpacking.

Packing is fine. Packing is almost fun, when you get down to it. You get to crumble newspaper and shove things forcefully into boxes, leaving your room (usually) looking neat and tidy. Not so much with unpacking.

Unpacking involves taking out that fun newspaper, your floor covered with it, open boxes, too much confusion. At least it doesn't have a time frame, right? Right. Otherwise, standing in the middle of the room saying "I don't know. I just don't know what to do" would be a whole lot more stressful. As is, I don't have a job to flock to (that search starts again tomorrow morning) so I can spend the day chugging down coffee, cutting open boxes, putting things away, and, gloriously, setting up my beloved desktop, Fido. Those boxes being open and empty also means I have surfaces in which to put things, as Fido's monitor and Shreds are taking up the only two solid, flat places to put anything of importance. Shreds and the monitor are a hell of a lot more important than setting up my maneki neko collection, I'm sorry to say.

The day will consist of unpacking boxes and putting the room in some semblance of order - the night will have me dragging in the iron and it's board in order to take apart those carefully constructed piles of clothing, ironing everything, and hanging up what absolutely needs to be hung up. My business suits are already hanging but I can see even from my bit of floor that much of it is wrinkled from our cross-country journey and being rolled into an airtight bag.

I have too many jeans. How did I not realize I owned this many jeans??

Lists are being made on the places I need to know about and where, exactly, they are. I need to find out how to get back to that lovely, huge used book store and where I can get the best sushi. The library is crucial, even though I can't get a card due to my lack of state citizen ship. Places accepting employment, where I can print up further resumes. Where's the best local hair salon (is that teaching salon any good?), how do I get back to that 'Giant' sort of food store? Coffee shops? Locally owned ones, with sofa's and cool people, a place where I can sit and meet those around my own age (or mental group, whatever).

Where can I get the best tea?

But that's for later, when my room is set up. Concentrate on the small things first, get in order. Then the big things can be tackled.

Time for me to go finish the days chore, Blog. Until next time!

So, I'm moving.

Like, immediately. Screw the list, I now have to prove it as I have until the 18th to get all of my stuff ready, fit into the car, and get myself and my sister to Virginia. Kelsey and her boyfriend of five years are having problems and she's moving in with us. Kelsey needs a roadtrip and she needs to see Dad because what Daddy's girl doesn't need her father when her life has changed in the span of days? Since we're already on our way there, I'm just going to stay there.

The list has gone to hell.

We found out on Saturday, I got a throat infection that made me useless until TODAY. So I have exactly six days to get everything in order and pack. I can totally do it. Clothes are important but easily squished down (can be ironed later) and the needed items are what will take precedence. Like my maneki neko collection. They're pretty damned important IMHO. :3

I'm training at the dojo for the last three classes I'm be around for, work has been informed, I have an extra three months of meds just in case, I've started looking for jobs... I need to notify the banks I'm traveling. Paperwork for the savings bonds deposit will be sent out tomorrow, hotel needs to be set up. Ashley is coming over this weekend to help me pack!

Also, someone needs to throw me a goddamn party. Just sayin'.

I cried earlier today about it. I wrote Sensei about my move and apologized for the short notice. She said to come to the main campus at some point to give me a hug goodbye. After I read that, I started bawling; there are so many people I've come to appreciate at the classes that it hurt to not be able to say farewell to them. Even though most of them are kids (I'm talking about gossiping with a twelve year old here), we've been through three months of kicks, kiyah's, knuckle push ups, and a whole slew of things I never really thought I'd do. When I showed up, only Shihan was there; Sensei Yuki had left for the day, I suppose to set up the other campus for tonights class. He told me I could come to Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday's classes for free, so I could say my goodbyes and leave on a high note. I almost cried again but I can be a stoic warrior. Sometimes.

Either way, I'm on The Meds. No longer infectious. It's a good thing.

Time to pack, O Loyal Readers. I'll be trying to update each day before I leave; who knows when I'll be able to update after I move? I'm unsure what Daddio's connection is like.

Looks like 2010 is the year of exploration after all.

Until next time!

Bull, Horns, Ect,.

A good portion of people think horoscopes are full of bullshit. They're generalized, they don't really work, how can the planets say something about you, personally, etc., and it's come to my attention that I don't give a flying butt on what other people think of them. For myself, I believe in horoscopes, Tarot cards, the whole she-bang. Ninety-nine percent of psychics are fraud but then again, I told a kid someone was dying when his mother had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer in the eighth grade because the cards told me. I had never seen the boy before.

Lately, my horoscopes and Tarot cards have been giving me a rather specific message: get your life together and DO something about it.

On behalf of the Tarot cards, I asked them a while back the typical single-girl question of "Give me the low down on my lack of love life, please?". Usually when I ask things about myself, they like to tell me to go figure out myself, bugger off, and stop asking questions. That particular time, they told me that I am going to be alone for quite a while, go through a time filled with darkness and pain all alone and lost even when surrounded by people, and in the end it would leave me happy with a lot of paths opening up to me. I'm pretty sure this is the time of alone and lost and darkness because, whoo, my brain is not exactly the nicest place in existence but it gives hope that the crap times will end at some point.

The horoscope's have been telling me I've stopped taking control of my life and falling complacent. Too true - being laid off and strung along by the jobs (oh yeah, both of them) threw me into a clusterfuck of 'what now'. The only physical thing in life keeping me grounded right now is karate and when my three paid months come to an end in August, I don't know if I'll be able to afford more. That'll be super fun.

Every sign I'm getting says I have to DO something, CHANGE something. I have to find something to jump at and do it. Problem is that whatever's out there, I totally don't see it. The plan has been to move in with Dad but he doesn't have his own place in Virginia yet and I have about two hundred and fifty dollars in the bank period, with an insurance payment coming out in two weeks and another car payment coming up. Can't move anywhere, there are no job opportunities in this freaking place anywhere. What, exactly, am I supposed to do?

The more I write this the more I realize this is the talk of someone whose worst choices came from within and not from an outside source. So many people don't have choices on what drastic things change in their life, either from being thrown out of their homes, fired without notice, or, hell, shot in the back of the head when things get nasty. My problems have all stemmed from mental illnesses and if not for the support of those around me, I wouldn't be here anymore. There's no background, to me, on what to do or how to say it.

Maybe I'll edit a story of mine, throw it out there to see if anyone in interested. Kelly is ten times more talented than myself but seeing someone I know (and adore dearly, major hearts for Kelly) get published and go out there again is inspiration. Maybe I'll go to Virginia and chill out with Dad in his hotel, find a job there doing something. Maybe Vancouver, although I can't get any jobs out there just yet.

Maybe in learning Japanese, I'll meet a nice person from Japan and be whisked away to Tokyo or a small town or something. Who knows.

Nothing will get done unless I DO something, right? Right. Until next time!

Karate/Weight Loss/Lack of Being Fat: Day 2

Sore in places I didn't know existed previously. I had all intents of coming home and practicing my kata last night; on the way home, the languid driving, it sapped me of any and all adrenaline. It was sort of disgusting. On that note: I'm glad I didn't. I'm horribly sore today and still feeling that euphoric post-rush, enough to be cleaning like a maniac.

Skin from my big toe and the top of my foot (top of the underside? Hell if I know) peeled off in the duration of class from the extensive turning. My knuckles are forming callouses - haha, well, big red spots with some skin coming off of there as well. Sensei didn't let me stop leaning on them even when I said it hurt. I understood why, even then, but g'damn, it hurt. Yes, it pained me to the extent where I actually swore in a blog post, something I've been trying not to do. Through the course of the night, two elongated oval blisters swelled up on my big toe, dead center of it. Again, from spinning side to side, thumbs are sore from the tight hold I had to have on my fists.

In short, it's still fantastic. I informed Sensei that until I was free Saturday mornings, I would be attending the classes Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He was pleased.

I'm still having problems with the language. Sensei is American born and Caucasian, despite spending most of his adult life in Japan; his wife is also a black belt, Japanese born and raised. But the names!! Forward front steps with a high punch are called something with long, complicated phrases in Japanese. I'm trying to learn but I still can't pronounce them or even hope to remember them all just yet. Even my kata - Shihonensi Kata? I know 'shihonen' is in there somewhere! I will ask again on Monday.

In the meantime, I will be practicing my kata at home along with squaring my shoulders when I punch or kick, a big problem of mine. I don't place my legs far enough apart or bend my knees enough, my wrists are always up too high, I need to straighten them.I'm hoping by next class I will be able to show Sensei Yuki improvement! I want to be a good student. They're traditionally tough teachers. It. Is. Fantastic.

I need to go and clean now. Until next time!

He got it!

Dad officially got the job! Hurrah! He starts April 26th and congratulations are definately in order as of now! Dancing was included - and high-fives.

My previous entries in recent times have been spurred on by emo, something I find distasteful. Ewwwww. It's also been cause for people to worry and mention these things to me outloud. Talking about my feelings isn't a strong point and is something I find highly distasteful (as anyone who has attempted to do this will tell you, O Readers). In fact, avoidance is my favorite way to deal with emotional matters.

THIS blog post, however, is not fueled by emo. It isn't being pressed on by pure joy and candy-farting unicorns but it surely isn't some depressing rant of blah-ness. No, it's brought on by my farting DOG, dear lord ugh.

Moving will be happening. My last class will be ending August 10th, something to lend me plenty of time to prepare. The idea of leaving cape coral is immensely pleasurable to me, although leaving my family and friends that I have down here so close to the holidays will be difficult. The idea of getting my BA in Virginia and returning to Florida just long enough to get a Certification from FSU is present and tempting.

Who knows? Certianly not me.

Summer B means the probability of me going to Vancouver for the fireworks is diminished by great amounts. This is also sad but what can you do? They didn't have the class i needed for Summer A so I take what I can get.

I have a severely TMI post in the works, designing a logo for this silly blog, and have put all of my books in planning and in progress IN ORDER finally oh god; now I have to compile all the notes I have for them before I move so I'm not hauling along ten million binders of absolute crap-tastic notes, half of which are out of date and not relevant to the story now anyway!

There are twelve stories in the planning stages or currently being worked on. One is the designated 'NaNoWriMo Only' book and five or so are my fairy-tale short stories so it's not horrid.

Today was a good day. A busy as hell work week is to follow!

Until next time, O Blog-

Erin

Well, crud.

I'm not exactly sure what to write here anymore; the move didn't happen and I've been all but isolated. This is the sixth time I've tried to write this post and there are at least three different drafts.

After the car accident, I needed a new car, I needed to get this and that, and I thought I was going to loose my car. Things were bad, I was broke - I am broke, honestly. D stopped talking to me once I was unable to go so, yeah, that's quite fun.

This blog is here, regardless, and that means I will keep posting. This year will be eventful no matter what, even if it doesn't span to California or even outside of my rinky-dink town. My father got a job in Virginia, one he's been waiting for, and he asked me to go with him. Ashley wants me to move into his old place with her and her boyfriend. I don't want to stay home; I love my mother but I honestly think I'd love her more if we didn't live together.

I'm not sure what to do. Escape is clear on the Virginia horizon, it means I can go and get out to live in somewhere far off and beautiful. Ashley needs to escape as well, to get the hell out of her house and get from under her parents thumb... We've been talking as if it is set in stone. Moving with her is safer, moving with Dad is tempting, far too tempting.

Kelly thinks I should go. She hasn't given bad advice since I've known her; she's usually the voice of sanity to my ranting and a pretty shower of calmness whenever I need her to be. But - Ashley.

I can whine and bitch about Ashley and what happens between us but when it all boils down, I am horribly protective of the girl. Her current state of affairs honestly upsets me and this - this is her chance of 'getting out' just as much as it is mine. If we don't, she and her boyfriend can't afford to move out on their own. I'm not sure if *I* can afford to move out period. Time will tell.

A coworker pointed out I was at a fork in the road - how true! Oh woe is me for having more than just one choice on what I can or cannot do. This isn't like moving to California. Moving there was to be with D, so I could live in a place where I wasn't odd or strange and, yes, just getting my lily white butt out of here.

Maybe it'd be easier to just scream, "PEACE" and run to Virginia with my tail between my legs. Correction - it would be.

Does this count as a 'count down' post? Maybe.

Peace, blog. Until the very soon 'next time'-

Erin

T-Minus Forty Seven Days

Yesterday was fantastic! Mom was healing well from her surgery, I was able to get a very nice, very cheap but expensive looking two piece suit for interviews, and work went well. Then came the car accident.

I rear ended someone so as far as the state of Florida is concerned, I am at fault. Luckily, the woman is just fine (I don't think she was wearing her seat belt) and her car, a gigantic pick up truck, was only scratched. Everything that happened to her is purely plastic.

My car on the other hand has a crumbled hood, a burst radiator, the glass in the lights are out (although they still work, oddly enough). The gentleman at the repair shop said it looked worse than it actually is. I'm not hurt at all, just sore, tired, and cranky. The police officer looked as if he didn't want to give me the citation but, again, according to the state the crash was my fault.

It happened in rush hour. The other woman and I weren't going fast at all (I was barely clocking thirty eight). We were both slowing down in order to go into the turn lane that had been coming up. It was a bit stop and go, so I was getting even further back than one 'normally' would in the situation. Had it continued to be stop and go, we would have been fine, nothing would have happened.

However, she stopped cold. I'm talking her foot went to the floor, she stopped dead in the road. My foot slammed down as well. I had two choices in the span of five seconds: swerve and hit her still, ripping a huge hole in my car and go over a huge concrete hump, possibly going into a deep crevice or hit her straight on.

I hit her straight on. Hindsight, had I swerved, my car would have been worse off and I could very possibly been hurt very badly, even with my seat belt securely in place.

My parents showed up and once the status was put on my Facebook I received no less than three phone calls and multiple text messages/IMs. When checking my DeviantArt, there were four comments complimenting the short I had just posted. All of that made the day better.

Today, Dad and I went to the insurance company, repair shop, we filed our claim and put through my new registration. I was grumpy as hell, despite having passed out at an extremely early time and dozing for about three hours throughout the night. I'm better now, having ingested tea and gotten back into my home.



Poor Minion. We're still finding out what's going to be going down with that.

That said, I'm still planning on an Etsy account, depending on what sort of shipping options I can find. The one I used to get Beth her stuff STILL hasn't arrived and thus I dislike it. Her reaction will tell me if I can or cannot pull it off. Love you madly, Beth! :D Be a picky creature with them.

It's been suggested I put up my paypal account up. I'm not expecting jack from anyone, feel no obligation, but the person who suggested reads this and would get grumpy if I didn't do it. :P My paypal account address is nozomi_ga_kanau@hotmail.com If someone DOES decide to throw a few sheckles, call it a 'gift'.

See you all later. Hope everyone has a better weekend than myself! Heh.

T-Minus Fifty One Days

This wasn't in zoom! Ha! I was right up near this silly little peacock at Busch Gardens. He seemed completely at ease with people around him. It was rather cool.

Lies had been told about last Sundays lack of photo update. Friday evening and Saturday were two very absorbing days to the point where the thought of getting it down made my head hurt.

Basically, my mother was admitted into the hospital on Saturday morning, I walked out on work that afternoon without being fired, and she just got home yesterday.

I came home from work Friday night to her on the couch in pain. We both thought it was the stomach flu, as my little sister and her boyfriend had just gotten over the same thing. According to my mom, it felt like her insides were seizing up and hurt worse than childbirth. She retreated to the bathroom to sit on the ground and kick at the wall whereas I went straight to Google.

The results? Ovarian cyst, intestinal blockage, or diverticulitis. As she's already had surgery for her diverticulitis and her ovaries removed, I voted for a blockage. Mother said no, couldn't be, and so we waited another thirty minutes. Finally, finally she agreed to go with me to the ER.

Fast forward three hours and it's 1 AM. We get seen and a room because we know a nurse there (a lovely young lady, by the by). Mom is still in pain, I'm falling asleep and worried because it hadn't stopped by one in the morning, and then the news comes back:

Intestinal Blockage.

Have to admit it, internet - I did a little fist pump. Mom didn't believe me when we were at home because Google apparently doesn't know anything. We chilled out at the hospital until the doctors told us Mom was being admitted because surgery may be a factor (hurrah for the now-present NG Tube) - I left the place around three when my sister and her puppy showed up.

Things happened at work the next day that resulted in me leaving the office and my boss angry. This is the internet so all you need to know is that things were said to me and I chose to remove myself from the situation when the opportunity presented itself. It. Felt. Good. Let it be known that I may be a pushover, easily forced into doing things, but I will never let someone tell me I don't have the right to speak out against slander. Human rights ho! Oppression be damned.

All in all, life was crazy. Lunch with the grandparents, sister, sisters boyfriend, and father was good, even though I was in a horrible mood and rather grumpy. Worrying about my job status two months before moving and mother being in the hospital meant I acted like a complete bitch.

Also, I have decided to not put a set schedule on my blog posts. I had something all written out but by the time the next Tuesday rolled around, it had become an irrelevant topic (my teeth and lack of money for them, I believe).

Putting on weight. Will diet, try to exercise.

I'm going to miss my pets once I move. No one has made an offer on Shredder, which is... upsetting. My mother refuses to keep and/or feed him once I'm gone and I'll be moving into a place with two kittens, let alone the cross-country trip that will last for days in mid-winter. Granted I'm driving the southern route but - I just don't know.

Sigh. Life is officially going to get crazy! HOO-RAH. Let's just pray it isn't as crazy as this last week and a half.