...

(July 1, 2008)

why I shouldn’t even leave the house

I think I'm just going to start putting my blogs in the "automotive" category to compensate for my lack of automobile in real life. Although temporary, it still has a negative and profound effect upon my psyche on a daily basis.

I only go out at night these days. Late. For food. And 7-11. The problem is, that's when the apartment has the sprinklers going. I'm soaked, head to toe, currently, due to side-stepping to get out of the way of one of them, only to stumble into another, that was hidden away in the bushes. I'm all wet, however, I did come home with my goal: sugar. A package of powdered sugar donuts and one Kit-Kat bar.

Today the ex described me as "intense and quiet". He also said I suffered from "artism". And that he was always jealous of the artistic brooding intellectuals I was always attracted to. He said it makes him sick how all a guy has to do to be attractive to women is grow really long straight hair, put it back in a ponytail, wear some glasses and walk around with a miserable and serious expression all the time. I think he's just jealous of the thinking kind. I'm saying this in rebuttal for saying I had artism. I know you're reading this Tommy.

Well that's about it. I'm all jacked up on sugar now and I'm off to better endeavors. Goodnight.


I think this one is telling me I'm blogging too much. I've been writing alot on some other sites, ALOT, I just seem to be on this mad furious mission to make sure I get EVERYTHING out, as if some unseen clock is just tick tick ticking away and I'm going to wake up one morning a stump, no arms and no legs and I'll regret not blogging enough,

so,

this morning I dreamed my default pic on this one site was a WINDOW, it was a picture of me but it was also a LIVE CAMERA, and people could just... WATCH me, all the time! Through it! As in, it's a live pic of you, whatever you're doing or wherever you are, the whole world can see. And I dreamed that I was sleeping and dreaming... and I dreamed that everyone was watching me sleep! And I knew I was sleeping and I knew I looked AWFUL! And so I actually talked in my sleep, I heard myself, I said, "NO!" and I held up my hand and shielded my face. From the "camera". And this is exactly how I awoke: to my hand in the air, shielding my eyes.

I'm awaiting my daughter's take on this one. She has witnessed one too many of my nighttime shenanigans. I used to sleepwalk constantly. I talk in my sleep. I do and say strange things. Should I tell you, I once gave away my house key in my sleep? I dreamed that I was giving my key to someone, standing in the kitchen, I remember taking it off the keyring in the dream and handing it to them. And when I woke up the next day- guess what- my house key was missing off my keyring. I searched high and low for it, even rummaged thru the trash. Never found it. But this could probably be blamed on the fact that I was taking Ornithine each night as part of a liver flush I was doing. Makes you have strange dreams.

Speaking of liver flushes. If you've never done it you might want to consider it. You have to drink a whole cup of olive oil though. And take this stuff called orthophosphoric acid- OPA at health food stores- and it breaks down stones in your liver and gall bladder. If you're a normal healthy person you can do this and the next day SEE BLACK AND PURPLE stones. You know where. Look it up! I'm for real!





I’m the most one-sided person on the planet

...with my blogs. I love to comment on other people's blogs but I shrink back in fear at the thought of other people leaving their mental deposit upon my words. It's distracting. I think it all goes back to my father. No really.

No, really! I never could speak! Never could finish a sentence/thought/idea/opinion with him. It was ALL WRONG. Every last bit of it. If it came from my head, it was wrong, stupid, and pointless. That is, if he even heard what I said. This really did have an effect on me. And I'm not all brooding, hating my dad. I love my dad. I just am aware of how he influenced my personality, good and bad.

He's also the main reason I became a ticking time bomb over the years and finally exploded with all this writing. I was trained to "keep quiet". That believing in God was "weak". To this day it's a forbidden subject. I think if he knew what I was really all about he would have a heart attack and die.

I sometimes wonder what I would have turned out like if I were actually ENCOURAGED to speak my mind. Maybe I wouldn't ever have. Do you speak your mind? Or do you even care? See? You probably don't even care. Most likely cause your opinion mattered. WHATEVER. PUNKS!!!




so here’s the deal with my situation

..just so I don't have to go thru the whole dern thing over and over again...OK as I have shamelessly and with no remorse announced to the entire planet, I had some serious health issues that started about 2 years ago, had to stop working in Dec. '06 due to seizures & all kinds of neurological stuff going on, a lumbar puncture (FREAKING SPINAL TAP... run for your life if they ever try to do that to you) ... revealed WEST NILE VIRUS. And my whole brain was inflamed and swollen and the whole thing messed with my right leg, I limp sometimes for no reason. I'll spare you further details but it took me a year to heal up, and I haven't had any serious problems since then up until just about a month ago, when some of the stuff decided to return. So I had to stop working again. BLAH BLAH BLAH, my point is, I'm ok, but as it turns out, whatever's going on with my nervous system is not going away, it comes in waves and when it hits I can be pretty miserable. The only way to describe it is it's like all the lights are turned off in your head, and it's all you can do just to focus on one thought, and all you want to do is sleep. These strange attacks seem to last for about 3 to 4 weeks and then go away like nothing ever happened. The freakiest thing is my leg, which totally goes out on me during these storms, I walk like a drunk old man. Then I slowly regain my strength and it's back to normal, like it is now. It's just so unpredictable. Also! I forgot to say, my short-term memory was damaged with the brain infection, in fact a MRI revealed scarring right there in the middle of the left temporal lobe in the memory center. Which makes my life even more interesting to say the least. But! Here's the fun part- it's only sometimes. It comes and goes. One day I'll be right up there with Einstein (no really) and the next day I can barely think about the basics, such as eating. I have no appetite at all when this goes on. I had to get some of those old people canned nutrition drinks just to force some calories into me. I lost about 5 pounds this last time around.

Why am I telling you all of this? Cause I want to tell you why it's so important to me that I keep writing. I feel like I need to do it when I can. And my memories are just that much more important to me now. My whole life is that much more important to me now. I see things differently. And I am not one of those miserable people all hung up on their medical junk- in fact if anything I have a tendency to sweep it all under the rug- out of sight, out of mind- but I'm telling you this also cause I hope to encourage you, whoever you are, to be thankful for your brain. Are you thankful for your brain? No? Never thought about it before? Well then I am the new advocate for your brain. The Mental Ambassador. I am here as a representative for your mental functioning and I am here to tell you that you should value your every thought and every memory and every life experience. And you should listen to me cause I know what I'm talking about.

That's all.


you know what?

Hi. I just want to say, has it ever crossed your mind that you could wake up tomorrow morning with the ceiling on your face, all crumbled up cause a tornado blew through? And took out your electricity? Leaving you with no internet? And while you're clearing the debris away and trying to blindly fumble through the dark, you drop your cell phone down the garbage disposal and accidentally turn it on? Leaving you without any form of communication whatsoever, no contact with the outside world? And to make matters even worse, you finally get outside only to discover that everyone has left town in a hysterical mass exodus due to an approaching firewall from an atomic bomb.

And then, you will have no way to communicate and no one to speak with or to, nobody at all, it will be too late, and everything you had stored up/brewing inside of you for the past decade, all these unspoken things you wanted to say but never did... now, they will never be uttered. Never. And you will be like a time bomb that never got to go off. And you will die very frustrated and miserable.

So listen. My advice to you today is to take action IMMEDIATELY and start talking. Get it out. I would do it now while there's still time.

This message has been brought to you today by the letter A.

....

(may 08)

I have so much to report. For starters, since I'm not dragging my chain around anymore, these here are



wait



First you need to understand, since I sort of got discombobulated with my chain, I formed a circle, turning the chain into a wheel, and these here little ditties can be spokes. Or spurs even. So that's why I can keep talking if I want to, even though I said I was "done." The chain.snake.tunnel ordeal is done. But my mouth is not. Do you understand?

And I was thinking, since I made a wheel, and these are spokes, if I stand back and see it from a distance does this mean I'm building a wagon? And if so, am I really in some kind of western ghost town? Are you real? Am I?

Do you see what a tangled web this has become?

Are you willing to take responsibility for your part in this?



Now then. Now that I've gotten that out of the way. It's just that I don't know what kind of whacked-out nut would take the time to look for me here.

But now that you're here, alone with me, I'll get straight to my update. There's so many things to fill you in on. For one thing, this ironing thing has grown into a beast. I don't know how long I can keep this up. I don't have a problem with ironing say, once a week or so, but this is starting to take over my free time. Not only that, but the shirt that I ironed the sleeve shut on seems to be waging its own war against me. The wrinkles WILL NOT COME OUT, no matter what. Cool iron, hot iron, it matters not. It is permanently wrinkled.

So I went to the thrift store today and found the cutest new teacup! It's big and chunky and hand-made. The cashier referred to it as a bowl, but it's not. It has a handle. It's my New Cup, meaning, all others are in imminent danger of the dumpster. Speaking of the dumpster, guess what I did today. Threw away the letter jacket. Who's letter jacket? You got me! Who knows! That's the thing! Why has this nasty thing been wrapped up in plastic and in my care, stuffed in one of my storage boxes all these years? Who does it belong to? All I know is, I have a faint memory of saying "yes I'll store it for you" to someone. I also have a feeling it has to do with my ex. But I don't think it's his. He never had a letter jacket. But anyway, I freed myself of it today. It now sits crumpled up in a trash bag among some old hard boiled eggs that I had to toss. My mother boiled up a bunch of them before going to the beach last week. Why? I have no idea. She never touched them.

A few days ago as I stood in my bathroom and looked at all my jewelry, I decided, no, I changed my mind. I would rather not be decorated. So I bagged all of it up and gave it all to a coworker. She has another job, at a lockdown facility for troubled kids, and she has to dress up for it. She liked it all and I was more than happy to pass it on to her. I am now free. I really don't know what i was thinking by buying all of it. I now own: zero pieces of jewelry. I'm thinking my brain can be my sparkly jewel. Speaking of my brain. You know what I decided to do? Donate it to science. For real. They can't have my whole body though. But I was thinking about signing one of those forms for when you die, telling them what they can dig into. I'm going to donate it to UT Southwestern. They're the ones who were after me to begin with, and I opted out of their west nile research program. I sort of feel guilty about that but see, I think the study would have involved more spinal taps. In fact I know it would have, the neuropsychologist said so. But he said, "it would be the right thing to do". Well, I don't see it that way. I have permanent nerve damage from the one they already did on me. But the thing is, I have an extremely high level of west nile antibodies in me, enough to help with "the research" as he put it. When they found it in me, they said the levels were so high, that I either had a recent acute infection, or a chronic long-term infection. They said that will always be the case in my blood and maybe in my spinal fluid. I can't participate in more testing, it was humiliating. I had to do timed tests and solve puzzles and do a timed finger tapping thing (I apparently failed that one, they said I had "mild motor ...wait I forgot....motor.....



..something to do with motor skills. Like I didn't go fast enough. Who's to say how fast is fast enough on an invented wooden electric wired-up finger thing? Who invents these things?



What was I saying? Wait let me just say, I am highly caffeinated right now due to a full cup of strong tea out of my new tea-bowl. That's why I am talking your head off.



About my brain. I want to go ahead and let them have it when I die. Mainly for selfish reasons. I am hoping they'll look at the scarring/mystery place on the left side, just tear it on open and look at it and see for sure what it is. I want to know.

I got divebombed by a bird yesterday! On my way to the car. Just from out of nowhere, this flapping and screeching, I look and it's all making a big scene right above my head! I shood it away and it flew off, and I just stood there, then heard laughing from across the parking lot, it was my friend the maintenance man, he saw the whole thing and he yelled out, "haha that bird no like you!!!"

Is this a good update? Or were you expecting something different?

I was going to get back into clay, but changed my mind. A chain reaction in my head discouraged me. Here's how it goes:

1) get clay

2) can't afford kiln

3) and even if I could, it would run up electric bill too high, so

4) get into pit-firing, but

5) have to dig the pit in someone else's yard, most likely my father's, so

6) I start going over there all the time and have too much fun, go swimming, play with the dogs, drink wine, and start throwing too many organic substances into the fire (it creates all kinds of tripped-out colors to happen on the clay) (you can even put dog poo in there) (also you can throw salt in there and leaves and copper wire even, anything really), and

7) due to the relaxed state of mind induced by combination from pool/dogs/wine I get carried away and get careless and put something very toxic in there and

8) poison myself slowly and

9) infect my brain again and

10) die.





So this is why I have advised myself to stay away from clay right now. which leaves me just as bored as ever, but that's ok. I'll survive. I'm trying to apply myself more to my job, and sometimes it works. My sales are increasing and I'm just now finding out the joys of commission. On a good night I can really do some damage. Oh about damage. I went ahead and purchased that broken bottle of Colon Cleanse. Sheer guilt.



I have alot more to report but I'm making myself tired. Just go make something up. Entertain yourself.

...

(July 08)

To all you creeps who hide behind fake accounts and try to talk with me, just so you know- I smell creeps and I know when I'm being lied to. Ever watch Judge Judy? She has this thing~ she can sense deception. She says the hairs on the back of her neck stand up when she's being lied to. I can relate. I can detect a fake account HOWEVER I go along with it for a little while because there's a reason you felt the need to reach out to me, and you are going to get something in return although it's not generally what you wanted.

Are you following me?



Role-playing is not for me. My real life is hard enough, I don't need the added confusion online. You creeps have nothing better to do than to play games online. My chain of profiles is not a game. It's the only way I can save my words. I've explained it before- I have a bad habit of deleting my blogs- so what I do to save them from myself is fill up a page, then lock myself out by changing the password to something I can't remember. I do it because I need to preserve everything I've said during this time.

I'm not here to be fed. I'm here to feed. I got stuff to share.



But about you creeps. Feel free to follow me. But don't be surprised when I ignore your attempts to get my attention. I have exposed myself in total honesty. Speak to me in honesty in return or not at all.


I just woke up from the worst dream.

I dreamed I was seeing this guy, or wait, we had been seeing each other or maybe even married, but no longer together, and he sent over a pitcher of vitamin water for our food. Actually it was 2 pitchers. 2 blue pitchers of cheap kool-aid looking water and it wasn't even stirred up right, it was supposed to be vitamin kool-aid or something, but I looked at it and could tell he barely put one thought into it. And these 2 pitchers were a substitute for "child support". So in the dream my daughter was hungry and walked for miles to a Whataburger. After she was gone for about 30 minutes I called her and she still hadn't gotten there, so I told her I'd leave right now and come catch up with her and we'd eat together. And then I woke up.

I woke up with that disturbed feeling about her, that feeling that she might not have all of her needs met, that troubling feeling I get when she's outside of my hands. I called her and she was flipping the breakers to the house cause the lights went out or something. I told her I loved her and to call me if she needed anything. What I wanted to say was, Honey I am so sorry I was with a man who sent us vitamin kool-aid instead of some real solid food.

I wonder if I dreamed this because

well

I have remained single for about a decade because

well for all my own hang-ups, really it has to do with my daughter. I'm very protective of her and have been sort of waiting until she was older until I get involved with anyone. I've been waiting until all I had to worry about was myself, and not her- as in, how will they get along? Will he be good to her too? Will he include her and treat her as his own? Because that's right and fair and I should not have to ask for that. I am overflowing with maternal instinct and any child remotely near me gets treated as my own. Yes I do expect the same thing in return. Anyway. I've waited this long only to discover, there's a whole new set of circumstances to be aware of...

But what I was saying- in this dream, the guy I had been with is someone I knew in real life, and I woke up so glad I never got involved for real. I think dreams are a reality check. They bubble up from your subconscious mind and the stories they present are your true thoughts and feelings coming into light. You really should pay more attention to your dreams.

I, for one, ask myself, Amy, why was there no food in the house to begin with? See? It all comes back to my own faults. I need to keep my head screwed on tight the way it has been for the past decade, and that means not relying on other people to make things right or better. I really don't know how to trust a man for anything. I wonder if that will change when parenting is no longer a concern. But then again, being a parent is sort of like quality control, it forces me to take all that into consideration.



I know that dream is not about food for real. It's about watered-down substitutes vs. solid and real provision/contribution. I don't know how to put it into words. I've never really addressed this topic in a blog before so I don't have my words/thoughts arranged right just yet. I'm being honest with my feelings for the first time. And also standing up for what's right in a relationship. I no longer feel guilty for expecting a man to be a part of my daughter's life. I don't care if she's almost grown. You can still forge a friendship and somehow convey to her that you are there for her, even just for a listening ear. I am tired of giving and not receiving. I've dated so many guys with young children and I cared for them and bonded with them as if they were my own, and not only that but enjoyed it. My daughter however remained on the sidelines with all of them.

Men are on the lookout for women who are financial leeches- and they should be. Men guard their resources. Listen to the flipside. Listen. A good woman does not always come with a spiffy career and a fat bank account, but chances are she comes with more than enough love for your kids. That's a resource as well. Do you take that for granted? Valuable things don't always come with dollar signs. So just like a smart man, I am a smart woman, guarding my resources and refusing to share them with just anyone.

The one who sees the value to the hidden things wins.

How many catches can one human being come with?

Last time I counted I had at least 9 catches. I really am in a pickle when it comes to meeting and talking with new people. How much do I reveal? Do I make light of the facts of my life? Or do I sweep them under the rug? The rug that doesn't even exist, because I own nothing? (catch number 4)

I looked at Christian networking sites. I would be bored to tears. I cannot relate. I fit in worse with those folks than I do a wholesome batch of Satanists. I say "wholesome" because they're real. No false fronts. Except for the kids who make their face look like they've been gnawing on a carcass. I'm assuming that's supposed to be blood around their mouths? In the pictures?

Do you want to know all my catches? Just for fun? They are: (in no particular order of importance)

1. west nile- unpredictable symptoms that appear from out of nowhere

2. unemployed- no money

3. no car

4. emotional artist to begin with

5. nobody wants to date a "psychic" (that's what the non-believers think it is)

6. questionable fertility status

7. sordid past

8. compulsive need to share sordid past

9. chop off hair really short when a guy makes me mad, it's an ever-present threat





there's lots mo

oh!



10. I can't cook

11. I hardly eat

12. very small bust

13. if I don't get enough sleep I cry the next day

14. I'm not interested in most things

15. I can't lift heavy things anymore (basically I'm useless)

16. I win all arguments/debates



do you see? I really am doomed. All kidding aside, I am doomed.



17. I own nothing and have not yet overcome my desire to throw things away

18. my idea of a fun shopping spree is the thrift store

19. golf/football on tv puts me to sleep- right there on the couch. (golf especially)

20.





there's more. I might add on to the list as I think of them.



21. questionable life span- depending on how fast my body decides to crumble

22. painfully narrow-minded

23. I am a vampire when in love

24. if a guy does not bring out the vampire in me, I'm not interested, sealing my fate as an unhealthy-relationship junkie

25. I can soak in the bath for over an hour

26. the highway stresses me out

27. even though my daughter is almost out of school I still need to stay somewhat near here cause all my medical stuff is with the state hospital due to the fact of my years of renegade-living-sans-health-insurance landed me there, thus, cancelling out my fantasy to move far away one day

28. I can eat more red meat than a man in one sitting

29. the only things I have pierced are my ears

30. tattoos scare me, I am not a canvas nor will I ever be

31. I think it's ok for dogs to sleep in the bed with you

32. normal men turn me off

33. I find all aspects of the prison system fascinating and can get lost in the documentaries and also find myself seriously attracted to the

wait



34. my dream vacation involves touring Auschwitz

35. I'd much rather go to the library than the mall

36. if I sleep with a pillow I wake up with my head all funky

37. I limp when I'm stressed, and lately for just no reason at all

38. I hit curbs

39.











I spent Saturday night at my dad's house & Leah came over too, we swam, soaked in the hot tub, talked about school, college, boys, and we prayed for one of her friends who got pregnant and the guy who did it sent 2 big thugs over to her house, grabbed her as she was standing on the porch and beat her so that she would miscarry. She did.

While sitting at my dad's table he said, Amy I got you a present. And he handed me a new sketchpad and a real nice art set, the kind I used to have in my college design courses, the wooden box that opens to reveal a myriad of colored pencils, pastels, watercolors, charcoal, sharpeners and erasers. I started to tear up when I looked at all the colors but I can't cry in front of my dad so I closed it back up, latched it, brought it home, leaned it up against my wall where it sits as we speak. It's watching me. It's waiting.

I've been overfeeding my fish lately because it's so much fun to watch him devour these new flakes I got him. I didn't know he'd like them so much. You drop one in and he slowly swims over there, hovers real still directly underneath it for a moment, eyeballing it. Then in one sudden whoosh he lunges up and devours it, shaking it around like a lion killing a

I can't think of what lions kill on a regular basis, I almost said yak but I think yaks are too big, and I make myself tired each time I have to search my mental files for stored information.