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  |  Missy's Memoirs
A peek into the fractured mind of Missy. (Seen through the eyes of an innocent bystander.) |
 To Whom it may concern, Let me begin by introducing myself. For those of you who haven't a clue as to who you are dealing with, some may consider you either very fortunate, or the unluckiest people on the planet. If you do know me, you will not be surprised by anything that I write while I'm down here in my little dungeon. How do you like the decor? I did it myself. That's enough idle chit-chat for now, on with the show. Oh, did you pay that little bony fellow by the door? If you did, you need to get your money back. He isn't a part of this story. On to the introduction. My name is Missy. It's spelled pretty much the way it sounds. I've often been torn between keeping the 'y' at the end, or replacing it with 'ie'. The 'ie' seems a little cutesy to me, so I don't think at my age I need to worry about being that kind of cute anymore. Oops, I do ramble on sometimes. Now, lets see...What else do I think might interest you...hum.. Oh, I know. Maybe you want to know about why I'm here. Yes, no, maybe? If you picked the last two, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that one person sitting in the back overruled all of you. Way to go Freddie! I joined WDC because I wanted people to read my writing. I have to admit that I was kinda cocky about it. At that point, I was just about to be as good, if not better than Steven King. I often imagined him reading one of my stories and calling me up for advice. Needless to say, that hasn't happened in the last five years, but I'm still waiting. I had to leave before I even got started, but I finally made it back in one piece, I might add. I've taken some hard knocks on my writing, but I've seen steady improvement in it and my reviewing, so I'm still hopeful that I will soon have Mr. King shaking in his shoes. If I can't, I may wind up in jail for stealing them. I can see the headlines now, 'Crazy obsessed stalker bares King's feet'. Well, I think that by now you have a little bit of an idea of what you are dealing with. If you continue to read any further, I will not hold myself personally responsible for any of the things you find. Does anyone have any Duct Tape? This little voice in my head is getting on my nerves! Signed, Milly (AKA: the little voice inside my head) |
| Depression Overload |
| Unless you really like reading about my depression, I'd suggest you just move on past this entry. I feel like I'm sinking in a deep pit of tire that I'll never escape from. It's going on five months without a peep from Millie and Hermie. I don't know where they've gone, but I wish they'd come back. Everything was so much funner with them beating around in my head. It's been a lousy year so far, and the more the days and months that pass, the worse it's looking. If you've not guessed, I seem to have found myself in a black hole that I can't climb out of. I'd like to think that my mood is somehow tied to the fact that this is 2013, but how could that evil 13 cause me so much grief? I'm so depressed and tired that I can barely function, and there's not much that I find appealing lately. I can't even get motivated enough to write. I think that this and the previous journal entry is the only things I've written so far this year, and I wasn't really in the mood to write them, but they had to be written, right? You'd think I'd be pretty happy these days since I finally managed to get a laptop after wanting one for so long, but that doesn't even excite me. I don't want to turn it on any more than I've wanted to turn on my pc this year. Right now I'm just like a ghost floating around, bumping around here and there without really doing anything. I've spent the better part of the winter fighting mild colds, but I've been battling a harsh one for the last couple of weeks, and it's really not helping my mood. I'll be so glad when and if it finally goes away. I was hoping that my mood would change when spring finally sprung, but so far I've not had any success with it. Just so you don't get all worried about me, I'm not to the point of killing myself just yet. I'll admit that the thought has crossed my mind a few times, but, in the end, I'm just too much of a chicken shit to do it. I start worrying about how it will affect me if I mess up and live. I could actually end up in worse shape than I'm in now, so that wouldn't do me any good. Then I have to consider how much pain it's going to cause me before I die. I'm not big into pain, so that pretty much eliminates guns and knives. No matter how you look at it, there is no guarantee that I'd be able to commit the perfect suicide, so what's the point in trying. I'd be really pissed off though if I ever did try and someone happened upon me just in the nick of time to save me. They'd better hope I never got my hands on them. I'd make them really pay for that good deed.  Okay, enough of this topic. There's no need to be pissed off and depressed.Maybe by the next time I decide to write in this thing I'll have some happy thoughts in my head. I'll not hold my breath, and neither should you. |
| Bandit |
 I'm devoting this journal entry to my dog Bandit. He died in my arms this morning at 7:40. I've watched him suffer for about a month, and it's really broken me. He slowly deteriorated to the point he couldn't eat or drink. He slowly over a long period of time, and I know how hard and stressful the pain must have been for him. He was so weak he could barely move in the last few days of his little life. His body had pretty much given out over the last couple of days, but watching him jerk as he struggled to keep his himself alive for those last few moments was like someone ripping my heart out. He was so sweet and loving, and I'll dearly miss him. He was so young, at only 2 years old. I'd enjoyed having him in my life every day, and he brought me so much laughter with the little things he'd do. He was a Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix, so he was very active and had a wonderful personality. I can remember how he'd be when I'd give him a new bear to play with. He would protect it from the other dogs and carry it around all of the time. If the other dogs tried to mess with it, he'd hide it from them. I did the best I could for him, but when you're barely making ends meet, and, can't afford to take one in that condition to a vet for help, you're basically fucked. I don't know what I'm going to do without him. I know I'll go on, eventually, but for now, my world has crumbled. I spent my birthday crying because I finally realized that he wasn't going to make it, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. Everything was stacked against it. The weather, the lack of money, and god. Yes, I blame god for some of it. I prayed for him to help him get better until I knew he was too far gone, and then I prayed that he would give him some relief and take him on so he wouldn't have to keep suffering like he was. He answered by keeping him alive until each and every part of his body slowly stopped functioning over the course of several days. What a birthday gift I got this year! I have such a wonderful time watching my dog struggle and finally die over the course of several days. Well, it was actually a lot longer than that, but these last few days were the hardest to deal with. During all of this, the worst part is that every other day I was given hope because he'd be able to drink or eat, and he'd act like he felt better, then the next day would be the complete opposite. I wouldn't read any further if I was you!!! The following is my angry rant!!!! I'm not kidding!!!  I had to watch as my mother suffered through cancer only to die, and now this. I can understand that everything dies eventually, but why should it be so drawn out and painful? Right now I'm having a 'screw god' moment, and I don't personally give a fuck who likes it, or who doesn't. If this upsets your delicate sensibilities, that's too bad. If you're reading this, and you consider yourself religious in any way, I'm sorry if you're offended, but don't bother sending me any posts or messages about how great god is, and how he has a plan, and all of that other blah, blah, blah, bull shit. I'm not buying into that shit anymore. Maybe I'll get lucky and piss him off enough, if he even exists, that he'll strike me down so I don't have to deal with this bull shit world anymore. I can't see any kind of hell being any worse than my life on most days! |
| Isn't it romantic... |
Okay...So some people may believe that as the years pass by, the romance tends to fade and dwindle. I've spent eight years with my boyfriend, and he never ceases to amaze me with some remarkable show of his love for me. It's not very often, or in a way that is always normal, but he tries.  He's never given me flowers unless you count an occasional one that happens to be growing in the yard at the time, and he never buys me cards. He always forgets me on my birthday, valentines day, and he has no clue about when we got together. I don't think he'd even remember how long we've been together if I didn't tell him.  You may be sitting there thinking 'What an ass', but at least he doesn't beat me, and that's something right there. I think that's only because he knows just how crazy I truly am, and it scares the crap out of him.  He's admitted that he knows he'd have to kill me to get him off of him if I ever really lose control of my temper. It's kinda scary to know that my temper is that bad, but I try to not let it get the best of me. It's an ongoing struggle, but, so far, I'm winning.  I didn't come here tonight to let you all in on how crazy I am. I came here to share a beautiful love note that my boyfriend wrote for me tonight. If this isn't love, I don't know what is.  The note: Dear Missy, (In case you don't know, that's my name.) How I like your slick wide frame, and your little seat, and your headlights. It don't get better than that. I will take you to the show any time and ride you down the track just to hear your mufflers and your tires sling mud. And at the end I will take you home and put you to bed for the night. Love (My boyfriend's name goes here.) Doesn't that just make your heart go pitter-patter? It's so moving it caused tears to well up in my eyes...Tears of laughter that is. Every time I read it, I can't help but laugh. I don't think he could write a serious letter if his life depended on it, but this is what I get when he's bored and finds a piece of paper and a pen. I guess I should be more careful about leaving those things lying around. Here's just one thing for you to think about since you read it...The man loves working on lawnmowers, and is wanting to build one to pull with. I normally would be a little ticked off about being compared to a lawnmower, but it's his passion, so I guess it could be worse. I guess there could be a lesson to this entry. If you find your relationship getting a little stale, start writing some silly love letters to show how much you care. These also work pretty good after an argument. Could you really stay mad after reading something like this? |
| Public Enemy #1 or Fugitive From Justice |
| According to the count, it's been 75 days since my last entry in here, and I think I finally have something worth telling. I know what your thinking...It's taken her 75 days to come up with something worth writing about? Don't she have a life? Well...You could be right, but I'm sure a couple of other things may have happened in the past 75 days that were worth writing about, but I can't remember what they were.  Oh, well. We'll just get back to the story at hand. Today's tale, children, is centered around a sweet and innocent law abiding citizen.  I'm writing this in the wee hours of the morning, so this actually happened, technically speaking, yesterday evening. I had an appointment with my mental health doctor early in the afternoon, and although I was pretty tired from not being able to sleep the night before, I made it there on time instead of calling in sick. If I'd only known what was in store for me, I would have blew off the appointment and rescheduled in a couple of weeks, but as fate would have it, I was stupid enough to go anyway. I really should have paid attention to the cosmic signs around me after I left the house. I had plenty of warnings that told me I should have stayed home, but did I listen...Hell no! The first thing that should have made me turn back was the fact that on the way I felt sick to my stomach. I was feeling just fine when I left the house, a little tired from not having enough sleep, but a shower helped with that. Well, that may not have actually been the first warning...The first warning may have been that I hadn't been able to sleep, which meant that I would have slept past my appointment under normal circumstances. Sorry, I got carried away...I'll move on with the story... You need to know that I live a ridge away from my actual hometown, and it takes me about 30 minutes to get from my house to there. I had a sudden urge of sickness about a quarter of the way, in plenty of time to turn back and spend the rest of the day in bed. That would have been the smart thing to do, but nobody's ever accused me of being that smart. I drove on thinking that it was more than likely caused by the fact that I hadn't eaten anything yet. I stopped and picked up some chips and a soda to help calm it down. That worked, so I continued on my journey. The next sign soon reared its ugly little head by trying to cook me. All of a sudden I went from comfortable, it was kinda chilly from all of the rain we've been having, so I had on a sweatshirt, but I don't know if that's significant to the story or not, to burning up just like that. *snaps fingers* I couldn't figure that one out, but it obviously played an important role in the events too because it went away too. So, it all boils down to the following facts so far: I was nauseous soon after I left the house, and had a hot flash once I got to my destination. Anyone else would have thought 'flu', went in and rescheduled, and went home to bed...Not Missy! The third tip-off was the fact that I actually got in to see my drug pusher on time. This never happens. Every time I've gone to my other appointments, I've had to wait for at least an hour to get in to see her. I always think that's odd since I only spend about 5-10 minutes in there. The whole place was deserted when most of the time it's standing room only. They only have like 6 or 7 chairs in the small waiting room, but, on most days, they only need 1. Are you seeing how doomed I was from the beginning yet? Kinda scary so far, right? I got everything taken care of, and was on my way home in less than and hour, so I figured it was my lucky day. My boyfriend always hates it when he decides to go to town with me on these appointments because he ends up sitting in the car for about a couple of hours while I'm trying to keep my sanity as I watch all of these people going back there and wonder if I'm next. I live in fear that if I'm not sitting right there when they call my name, they'll take someone else back there, and I'll have to wait even longer. I bet you wish I'd just get on with this story so you could go back to what you were doing before you started reading this, huh? You've come this far, so you might as well finish it with me. So, I get in my little auto-car, put on my seat belt, which I wouldn't do under normal circumstances, and begin my journey back home. Wait...Is that another sign? I'm usually extra careful when it rains because some people decide that rain and snow is the best conditions to drive stupidly, so I think I need to try and make up for their foolishness. What's with the whole milk and bread theory when the weather is calling for snow? I could never figure that one out. If it's bad and the electricity goes out the milk will ruin, and you wouldn't be able to use it to cook because the stove wouldn't work. Then you also have the problem in that situation of having to drink a whole gallon of milk so you didn't just waste 5 bucks. Okay...Okay...I'm getting to it... I hadn't gotten very far on my way home, not even a quarter mile, when I passed a state trooper going in the other direction. I thought nothing of this even though I sometimes worried about them stopping me. The reason I worried was because my car had been in an accident, and it was missing the front turn signals and the windshield is cracked. I bought it that way because I thought it was pretty cool. Really...It was cheap, and times are hard. The fact that it will run forever on a tank of gas, as long as you're not going across ridges and mountains, is a big bonus.A little further up is the end of the road where you can turn to go into the center of the small 2 redlight town, or take an escape route out of town, but not towards my house. By the time I got to the stop, who did I see all snugged up my ass but that trooper. In the short distance I'd went since I passed him, he's turned around and was right behind me. Of course, we all know what that means...It's just a matter of time, right? When the coast was clear, and there was a chance I wouldn't get ran over, I pulled out into the road. There was a car coming, but I guess he thought it'd stop while he proceeded with his chase. Now, this town is only 3 blocks long within the city limits, and since my front turn signals are missing, I always take this route on my way home because it's a straight shot up the ridge going home. I'm trying to be courteous to other driver even though half of them don't use a turn signal, and it can get a little dangerous at that red light. I turned up the street to the backstreet, looked in my mirror, and he was still riding my ass. I turned onto the backstreet, and he was still there. At this point I'm just waiting on the blue lights to start flashing. I didn't have to wait very long. I pulled over at one of the local establishments thinking about how I live in such a small town, and how everyone would know before I got home. I really try hard to not add to the daily gossip mill, but I failed, and I'm sure by the end of the week I will have been stopped because of some drug related business. Who knows...I may even be a big time pill pusher, meth cooker, or pot grower before it's all said and done. I may be wasting away in jail at this very moment. It's only natural for people to assume that since most of the people around here fall into one or more of those categories, so I can't blame them. That's what I would have thought... But alas, this was not the case...Mr. Trooper stopped me for the simple reason that my muffler was too loud. Can you believe that shit? I was in shock...With all the druggies, drunks, other people breaking the law, he chose to waste his time on little ol me over a muffler...He proceeds on how it may have a hole in it, or it could be loose, and I need to get it fixed. Granted, it is a little loud, but I can't help it. It was like that when I bought it. I'd already given him my DL, he wanted to see my registration and proof of insurance...I'm sure you all know the drill. Well, my boyfriend had stuck it in the glove compartment, and how he managed to get that thing open I'll never know, but while I was thinking about that, I got him sidetracked. Like I said, It's a small town, and this happened to be a guy that went to school with my boyfriend, and they know each other pretty well, so I bring him up. Of course I thought this would help me...I'm not stupid. I need any edge I could get. Well, he acted like he didn't know who I was talking about, and that was a shock. I'd never met Mr. Trooper, but I'd heard a lot about him from my boyfriend. Needless to say, the registration was forgotten, but not the insurance. I had to admit to that one. In the process he'd returned my DL, and now he wanted it back. He looked it over very carefully and asked if the address was correct and if the registration was right. I told him yes, and he warned me that if he wrote me up they would suspend my DL until I had it. It's just a waiting game at this point. He's still focused on my DL, so I shot the gas to the car and left him in the dust. Not really...That would have been cool though. He would have caught me without any problem, so I wouldn't have even tried. I would have hated to come home to a state trooper sitting in my driveway...What, pray tell, would the neighbors think? They're all family, so I don't care... My luck finally decided to return, and he let me go with a warning. I told the boyfriend and he said the muffler was new. It'd just been put on before we bought it. My car is kinda low to the ground, but I made him get down on the soggy ground and check it any way. No holes, it hadn't came loose, but one of the gasket things was done for and leaking, causing it to echo which made it loud. I'll need to get it fixed, and get insurance as soon as possible because my boyfriend warned me that he'll stop me again to make sure I got everything taken care of...He's just that way, he says, and from the way he was studying my DL, I believe it. Thank goodness I don't travel much. I suspect that I'm stored somewhere in the wanted poster part of his brain, and apparently, he never forgets anything...I can see it now...Most wanted...Missy...for the crime of loud muffler and no insurance. At least he didn't get me for not wearing a seat belt, so I guess there's a silver lining to every cloud. |
| Embarrassed? Ashamed? I think not. |
| Today I had to go to the grocery store for a few things. The problem with living in a small town is that there's only one store, it's overpriced, and they have nothing that you really want to eat. I hate going there for most things because for one thing, I have to check the date on any meat products I think about buying, and if you're really smart, never trust the chicken. Someone is always bring a package back. Trust me when I say that there are plenty of reasons for a health inspector to shut the place down. I'd call them but there are quite a few people who have no choice but to go to that store. These people don't know the first thing about bagging groceries either, and that really ticks me off. I have worked in a couple of cashier positions, and there are certain things that you do and don't do as far as I'm concerned. The first thing, as any idiot should know, is that you don't toss or throw produce on a hard surface. I personally prefer that none of my groceries are treated that way. If I want them brused, mashed, broken, ripped or dented, I can do that myself, and if I can't , I'm sure they have some stacked on the shelves. The next thing that gets me is having to go through each and every bag to find anything that goes into the refrigerator or freezer. I don't like playing hide and seek with those items. There's always a chance that you will miss something, and then it's ruined and your hard earned money was wasted. Everyone knows that cold food should stay together. That's just common sense. Of course, I also don't like having a loaf of bread crammed into one of those small bags with two bags of chips. It's fine to put it on top of a carton of eggs since they are about the same size, and they both need to be handled with care. Other than that, put it in a bag by itself. Now we have the other groceries. It's pretty helpful if the cans aren't thrown in with the boxed foods. If you have specific places where you put those items, it comes in very handy if you don't have to pick through each bag collecting a box or can here and there. At real stores they know these things, but obviously at my hometown store they aren't taught how to do it, and they don't have enough common sense to figure it out. So anyway, on with my story. I told my boyfriend the last time we stopped in there that I was just fed up with them throwing everything willie-nillie and the next one who tossed my groceries around was going to hear from me. No more Ms. Nice Woman. I guess he didn't believe me. When I got up to the counter and the girl started tossing my purchases, I just calmly said to her that I'd appreciate it if she didn't toss my stuff around. As soon as I said it, he says my name in a shocked way and apologizes to her. Needless to say, she 's standing there and tells me that she didn't realize that she was tossing my stuff around and keeps on until she's finished ringing it up. I didn't apologize for what I said, and I don't feel bad about it. I worked in that store, so I know the supervisor, and she was bagging the groceries. She has no more idea how to do it than anyone else, but she went from the hateful look that she normally has to a big smile. I figure she was either waiting on someone to say something, or she now had someone to talk about for the next week. It's so nice living in a small town...NOT! When we were safely in the car and ready to go home, I get this whole thing about how embarrassed he was, why did I do that, and he seemed to think that she wasn't tossing them too hard. I told him that he might as well not go to the store with me anymore because I'm not putting up with it any longer. Heck fire...I'm paying for the stuff and giving them my business instead of going elsewhere where it's actually cheaper and there's a better selection, and let's not forget that I don't have to check the date on everything, which is a big plus, so they can at least take that one extra second to set my stuff down on the counter instead of throwing it. I don't really think it would take an extra second because all they have to do is scan it and slide it on down the counter. They're actually taking longer when they toss it around, and whoever is bagging is getting abused and having to sort everything out. There's my rant for the day. Stay tuned and eventually I'll get started on stupid people. I can find plenty of those around here. |
| Unbelievable but true |
| Well, I think it's been almost as hot as Hades here in East Tennessee, and pretty dry to boot. It's not helping the anxiety any, and the headaches are a pain I would gladly live without. I didn't come her to talk about the weather, so I'll move on to the subject at hand... Late yesterday evening, after it cooled off to an almost bearable temperature, I went outside to sit on the porch steps. A little earlier my blue heeler had ran off to chase some unknown critter which I figured was a deer. He loves to chase deer. He doesn't catch them, so I think it's just the thought that he gets to run so fast. Who knows what goes on in his head? I gave up trying to figure it out a long time ago. So, I'm sitting there, and I happen to look in the direction of where he had ran to, which just happened to be across the neighbor's driveway, into some tall grass. I couldn't see anything besides the weeds, and I figured he'd ran off with the neighbor's dog. They like to run around everywhere, so I figured I wouldn't see him until late in the night. The next thing I know, I see him running down the neighbor's driveway with a deer behind him. It was so funny. I would have never thought that as much as he chased them, one would actually chase him back. Common sense told me that it had to be a mother deer chasing him away from her baby. When he got to the end of the driveway, I couldn't see him because of a hill, but I heard him bark. When he rounded the hill and started up my driveway, he stopped and looked back. When I looked to see what was going on, the deer was standing just a few feet behind him. As I watched, they made their way up the driveway. The deer was moving a little cautiously, and the dog would stop and look back at the deer and then move a little further up the driveway. This went on until they reached the house. When they got to the yard, the dog sat down, and the deer just kept on coming. The next thing I know, the dog lets out a bark, the deer jumps the fence into the horse's field, and they take off into the woods. I really don't have any idea why the deer followed him, or even why he seemed to lead it up there. The only thing I can figure is that they played together. I know the dog isn't mean, and he seems to have a nurturing nature toward young animals, so I figure their paths crossed while the deer was a baby. The blue heeler is only about 3 years old, so he's still pretty young and playful, too. That's the second time I've seen any behavior like that between a dog and a deer. I have a whippet that used to play with a baby deer. I just figured that was because the dog has long legs, and wasn't much smaller than the deer, and the deer thought he was another deer. It just goes to show that amazing things sometimes happen. |
| Hodge Podge |
| I've found myself a little bored, so I thought I'd hop over here and try to scratch out some words in this thing-a-ma-jig for a little while. I'm not really inspired, but after 70 days, I think it's about time. Life seems to be moving forward, and the earth is still rotating, so that's good. Speaking of the earth...Isn't it a funny expression when people say, 'I thought you feel off the face of the earth'? How do you fall off of the face of the earth? Is it even possible? I'd like for someone to tell me where it is so I can at least see if it's possible. So...I guess you'd like to know how I've been. Even if you don't care, I'm going to tell you anyway. Why else would you be here, right? I've been hot, hot, and even hotter for the last couple of days. They don't kind around with the heat around here. I wish I knew where they kept the control. It's probably hidden away in some 50 foot thick safe 20 miles below sea level. I really wish I was an explorer. That would be the find of the millennium. I'd set that baby at 76 year round and kill the little guy that's handling it now. He's doing a lousy job. Winter's too cold, and summer's too hot. Spring and fall are okay, but they can get a little iffy and unpredictable at times. The other week I finally decided to do more with my writing than just ignore it. It feels that way sometimes. I've forgotten what half of them are about until I go back and read them after a review. It's so sad. You would think that if I felt the stories were important enough to write, they would be important enough to remember, right? I wonder if King has this problem? Who am I kidding? He can't forget his stories since they are everywhere, then you think about how a lot of them are subtly linked to other ones. I think that's pretty amazing. Yep...I think he's one hell of a writer. As I was saying just before I interrupted myself, I'm going to try to do some serious editing of my stories to get them ready to be sent off in hopes that they will be published. I've sent off a couple that I think are pretty well taken care of, but what do I know? They'll more than likely be rejected, so I can go over them again after that. I really like the fact that I can call myself a writer. Everyone who isn't one thinks that it is so easy. That really gets on my nerves. The way I figure it, it's like everything other skill that we are born with. Some people who would like to be writers haven't the first clue on how to do it. They think you just type out 'Once upon a time', some other words, and 'The End' when you're done. They don't realize that there is more to it than that. It is a job even if nobody else thinks so. Just because it doesn't always pay the bills, doesn't mean that it isn't hard work. Oh, yes, a lot of people want to be writers because you can get famous and make a lot of money. You can make money, but you have to know how to write...DUH! I used to only write because I had the need to get a story out, and I didn't worry about things like getting published. Over the last couple of weeks I've decided to give it a shot. I figure I can write at least as good as some of the people that are being published lately. I've learned so much over the last year that I have a really hard time reading for my enjoyment. There have been a few that I would have loved to smacked the writer, editor, and publishers for even considering it ready for print. After a few of those, I figure I have a pretty good shot. The only thing that may hold me back is that I'm not sure if I can write a whole novel. I'm working on one with my bestest friend, Joy, and I'm trying another one on my own. It gets hard on me after the first couple of chapters, so keep your fingers crossed. I'm about to start on chapter 4, and I have no idea where it's going. Well, I guess that kinda makes up for all of the entries I missed. I wish you all the best of luck with your own writing.  Till next time, keep the words flowing... |
| The case of the missing angel (Just a rant) |
| I know it's been a while since I opened this up, but I feel that another entry is long overdue. It's taken me a couple of weeks to get calm enough to curb my language on this one. Without further ado...I give you this tragic tale. So, a couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to pass by my mother's grave and as if that isn't bad enough, it gets worse. Now, just so you don't get the wrong idea roaming around in your head, I do have reasons that I don't go there. They may not be the best reasons, but they are enough to keep me away. If she was resting in a cemetery, then things would be different, but as it is, she is buried on my uncles farm. I know...That should make it easier, right? Not so. Unbeknownst to me, there was a falling out between my uncle and his wife towards me and my boyfriend. We wasn't at fault, but some people can get pretty crazy when money is involved and she is one of them. Needless to say, she turned my whole family against me to the point I barely got to see my grandmother for the last year of her life. Their both buried in the same place, and the last time I was there was when they laid my grandmother to rest a couple of years ago. I left as soon as the service was over because not only is it heartbreaking, it's really hard to be somewhere where you're not wanted by anybody. It was so bad that if I'm not mistaken, none of them bothered to tell me that she died. Granted, it is a hard time for everyone, but shouldn't I have known before everyone else??? Those are other stories for other days. I just can't hash those out right now, so on to the point of the story. After my mom died, I found a little figurine of an angel to put on the base of her headstone because flowers die and the fake ones get thrown away. I wanted something that would stay their from me. I couldn't visit her often. It just broke my heart too much, and it still does, so that was all I felt I could do until things got easier for me. My mom died in 2004, and I put it on there in 2005, if memory serves. Anyway, I drove past there because everyone had slowly started to speak to us again, and I wanted to ask my uncle something. As I passed, I looked over at her grave, it's sitting right beside the road, and the angel is gone.  I look again on my way out to make sure I just haven't looked over it, but it was still gone! I guess you can imagine how upsetting that would be. On the other side of the driveway is the old flowers that have been taken from the graves, but with a quick look, I couldn't tell if it was among them or not. I glanced at my grandmother's grave, and there is a cement something-or-other there, and what suspiciously looks like the angel I bought for my mom. Now don't that just take the cake! I could be wrong. I have been before, but I don't see any reason that the angel shouldn't have been left on my mom's headstone in the first place. My boyfriend said I should buy another one and glue it on, but I figure that when my uncle's wife figures out I put it there, she's just break it off. She's a pure &@#$%! I have a lot more names for the money grubbing %$*#@, but I'll watch my language. So, there it all is, and I still don't feel any better about it. |
| All I want for Christmas.... |
| Well, it's been a long hard journey, but I made it back. How long I'll be here this time before I'm drug away again, I have no clue, but I guess I have to start somewhere. All you all know, or some of you can guess, Christmas is on its way. I'm not particularly happy about it, but what does it care, right? Hey, to me Thanksgiving, Easter, and family dinners of all kinds are a struggle. I hate family dinners. The only thing good about them is the food, and sometimes I'm forced to question that. It's not that bad I suppose, there are at least a couple people around that I like. At least I've not had to worry about dealing with any family dinners from my family for the last couple of years. It's a shame that it took my grandmother dying to get out of that, but that's life I suppose. The rest of them just get on my nerves. Don't get me wrong, I used to enjoy those dinners, and especially Christmas. When my mom died right before Christmas in 2004, that kind of took the joy out of all of it. If anyone has lost someone they love during this time of year, they know exactly how hard it is to deal with all of it sometimes. I admire those people who can go on and enjoy it, I wish I could. Maybe it's because I don't have any children, so I don't get to see their eyes light up, or their joy throughout the holiday. I'm getting a little better though. I did actually put up a tree last year and the year before. It's kind of iffy this year. If I'm going to, I'm a little behind since a lot of people put them up the day after Thanksgiving. It doesn't really matter if I do or I don't. Nothing will go under it except a few presents for nieces and nephews. Santa Clause keeps screwing me out of gifts. I don't know why. I think I've been pretty good. Just in case anyone wants to know my Christmas list, I'll tell you. Maybe you can put in a good word with that fat f**ker for me. Obviously my email, and snail mail isn't getting to him. I can't even get him to accept my friend request on Facebook. If you happen to be on better terms with him, tell him I just want a laptop. I can manage the rest. Now, is that really asking too much? I'm sure those little elves of his build thousands of those babies a day. He needs to put down that sugar cookie and hot chocolate and do his job. What the heck are we paying him for if he isn't going to earn his keep??? Well, that's the rant for tonight. See ya on the next page. |
| What kind of nonsense is this??? |
| There is simply no excuse for the way I have treated this poor jurn-a-ma-blog. I am deeply ashamed of myself for neglecting it for so long. I had such high hopes that I would be able to visit it every day, or even most of the time, but I have failed. I now see that it has been a whole two weeks since my last entry, and it horrifys me to think of what great things may have slipped out of my mind because of it. I'll try to do better. I really promise that I'll try. There is no reason that anyone who reads this should have to suffer for my mistake. So, today, I'm not in a pickle, and I'm not in a jam, but I like to have some, especially if it was blackberry. I'd make some toast to eat with it. Maybe I'd make some biscuits. Either way it would be pretty tasty right about now. I may need to add that to my grocery list. That stuff in the store is no match for the homemade variety, trust me on that. My grandmother, rest her soul, used to make it all of the time, and it was delicious. Some people apparently don't like it with the seeds, but I happen to love it that way, so it's hard to find in any store. Oh, sure you can find it, but most of the time it either doesn't have any seeds, or it only has a few. If I could find a good blackberry patch I'd be willing to try my hand at making my own. I probably wouldn't be able to make much since they invented blackberry cobbler though. Enough about food. I'm starting to get hungry. In case you are wondering, Milly and Hermie are doing fine. They're having a little quarrel right now though. Hermie wants to read, and Milly wants to write. I'm trying to give them equal time for their activities, but since they are refusing to work together, I'm left wondering how I'm going to do the things that I want to do. I've been forced to hide all of the sharp objects around the house, but I occasionally hear Milly scraping around up there. I fear she may be making a shank to stab Hermie with. WATCH OUT HERMIE!!!! |
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