I find it odd and interesting that whenever I manage to get my son over to my mom's house so that I can catch a break, her son wanders over to mine.

My brother composed THIS.

THIS is the issue. And what you can do about it.

Also, HERE is how you can contact the Chairman. Florida doesn't have a representative on the hearing, so I e-mailed him. I also bugged Georgia and Arizona by way of phone (Rep. AND Dem.), and got my brothers in on it, too.

If you haven't clicked yet, this is about the hearing tomorrow to pass an inclusive Employee Non-Discrimination Act (or ENDA 2009) which would ban workplace discrimination against people ACROSS THE NATION based on sexual orientation AND gender identity.

Make some calls, send some mails. The instructions are all there in the first link, along with how to contact, the list of representatives, and the number of the bill. DO IT DO IT DO IT. HURRY.

... is one of those days where I just feel old.

I went job hunting for a decent chunk out of Monday. I went around to a couple places where some friends of mine are in management—which, it turns out, are a few. I feel kind of pathetic for that, but really when I'm responsible for the future of another human being, there are more important things to worry about than my pride.

Yesterday was uneventful. I bought new coffee.

Today... pretty much the same.

Y'know, it was kind of cool having my brother on Facebook. And I didn't mind having my cousin who is the closest my age, either.

But now that it's gotten to the point that her older sisters (one of whom also lets her kids have accounts) are my facebook friends, and my step-mother has sent me a friend request, it's just not any fucking fun now.

I was up until maybe 630 this morning reading bloggery. You know how it happens when you get caught up in something awesome, and then it has a bunch of recommended links. Anyways.

I think I'll be doing some organizing today. I want to clean up my delicious account so I feel comfortable linking it to my DW page. I've realized that some of my links on there make me look like a psycho—especially in measured doses, and by association to my other links. Like my articles about intersexed conditions (one of my favorite arguing points for equal marriage opportunities) sitting next to self-surgery 101 (Hellmasker fic!).

I mean to talk to venefica_aura about this (name)(dot)livejournal(com) thing on DW, and if it means I can put my LJ friends on my reading page, or if it just means they can read protected posts when they're logged in to LJ or what. And I finally made myself open my Google Reader again with dread, knowing it was going to be cluster-fucked (can you tell I like to use that word a lot now?)—but then I remembered it only goes so far back, which was a relief.

I need to reorganize those subscriptions, too, and compare it to my F-lists.

I got another call from the agency today. I've already told them that I'm not comfortable taking cases from them and that I feel it endangers my license, especially from the suggestions I've received when calling in for support—and that case info is grossly misrepresented in the paperwork I receive before going, the BASIS of my accepting the case in the first place, and is becoming increasingly less indicative of what kind of shenanigans I'm going to get stuck with. It's not okay to leave a 130 lb. person alone with a two-person transfer patient for twelve hours a day, even if the papers say they can ambulate with a walker and stand-by assistance. They still have to get out of bed FIRST, without breaking bones and ripping skin. I'm talking about patients who can't hold themselves on their sides in bed or turn when prompted for bed-baths. Of course there are techniques where I can do this, but a lot of these people have problems with joints and their limbs curling in from disuse, and a lot of these people I'm just meeting for the first time.

So, I told them a few calls back that I would come in and talk to the branch manager in person—because they were trying to give me shifts, and it was only a matter of time before someone ended up in court—about my reasons for holding off. This morning when I got the call I said, "You know what? It might just be easier to talk to you now, but I don't know how busy you are." And she gave me the opportunity.

Last time I did this, I told her basically all of that above, with even less detail. And she had responded with gladness that it wasn't anything she had to address right at that moment (whatever that meant) and that she had followed up with me because I'd told to coordinators that I wanted to talk with her before taking shifts, and it had made her nervous after she'd heard it the second time. That's fine, whatever.

But when I was given the opportunity to talk about it today? I found I really had nothing else to say. That's the whole of the main issue, and also lots of worse things I was asked to do which I won't repeat, so I just told her the same thing again. And she asked me if I just wanted to have her take me off the roster until I decided what I wanted to do.

...

I REALLY don't think they're getting that I don't want to work there anymore!

But I just said yeah, whatever, I'll sign the temporary resignation papers or whatever. After I read them. Carefully.

I need some good coffee, too bad I don't have any. I might have to go to Starbucks, but I have the tired eyes. I blame gender politics and all the articles I found last night/this morning.

So yes, today is organizing day. And maybe a walk on the beach. It's raining, so I'm keeping him away from the park equipment. It's Florida, so... mosquitos. But a walk barefoot along the beach with my kiddo sounds like a good idea.

I'm sure there were other things to say, but I forgot them. Because talking about feelings is bad for me, except when it's not (I love this piece).

COFFEE!

YES.

What's left of my Native American ancestors got their legacy back (at least, the "federally recognized" portion).

Of course, I never knew it was taken away. How the hell does someone else decide what you get to call yourself, anyway?

Disney is buying Marvel.

WTF, entertainment industry?

UPDATE: I'm a pretty little link, click me

Well, that is a weird experience.

I mean, I know that when you get absorbed in fandom, certain things can make you geek. But it's kind of a heavy accusation.

Still.

Listen to this song, all the way through, paying special attention at around 2:15.

Am I just crazy, or does that seem really familiar?

Like really familiar.

Familiar like an instrumentalist might have had something stuck in his head?

I mean, at this level, it just has to be.

The song is "All the World" by Fauxliage. Apparently it's on a Moonlight OST, which is a show about vampires on CBS, or whatever, hell if I watch tv. I like the song, but...

Well.

Someone I went to school with is famous now. Apparently, he's been in a couple television series, too, and I've never seen them. It's still a strange feeling.

Anyways, there's a big gathering tonight at the cinema for the opening of his movie in this area. He's kind of the main character. It's a bunch of people I went to school with, and him, and... yeah. Mostly people I didn't hang out with. He's going to be there, probably surrounded. It's going to be cluster-fucked, anyways. I mean, I can say I was there, but so can anyone else who went to the movies tonight. I didn't talk to him probably even once. It's open to everyone who knew him, but I don't feel like I belong there. I was in his sister's class.

She married a famous vocalist.

My friend really wants me to take her there. I know this is kind of a big deal and all, but I don't feel like I belong there. And I don't want other people looking at me like I don't belong, either.

It's probably sold out anyway, even though the general public doesn't expect it to be great, because we all think he's a big deal for being a wonderful person.

I kind of want to see him act, too. I remember him being a captivating character. But I'll probably go another day.

...Am I just being a doofus?

It's early, I'm tired, and I have a headache.

...But I went through my WIP folder, and found something I might be able to finish tonight.

SO, COMEDY IT IS.

I cannot help it. Just remember: when I started this, I had no idea I'd actually end up working in this sterile sort of environment. I've finally found some... inspiration. :)

Trying seriously at writing tonight, but I have a terrible headache.

I can't say I did much of anything interesting today. I am finally getting used to Johnny's hair, but still pissed off that no one asked my permission to chop it off. His looking that much more like his dad is not cool with me, because it makes it that much easier to get upset with my kiddo, and I don't like that.

Of course I know that's inevitable.

I'm very tired, so it's off to bed for now. Hopefully I feel rested enough in the morning to be super motivated!

I haven't heard back from that library tech job I wanted, so we'll see about getting another one.

THE TEA IS GOOD. THEREFORE, THE WRITING WILL BE GOOD!

Got my CNA. Have my own place. Got a car. Have to look for higher paying job.

Must write for contest.

Happy again, to be alive.

Moving all my things (well, most) to the new apartment tonight. I have a test tomorrow morning and an orientation tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully I can make enough money for a while, and if I can't I'll just have to find something else.

I don't know when I'll have a steady internet connection again. The sad truth is that I'll probably never catch up on my f-list. If I missed something big and important, I'm really sorry. I miss being on here a lot.

With nothing to do but work and think and take care of Johnny and think some more, I'm itching to unleash some creative energy—yet I'm falling asleep sitting up and stupid stuff like that when I haven't even started my new job. How the heck am I supposed to keep this up?

Cendri, thank you much for the package. It was so thoughtful and wonderful (and the travelly things make for so much ease when I'm flitting inbetween residences).

Oh, the paperwork.

Well, I'm just stopping in to say hi, because I've been gone for a while. I hope when I finally get back you all will still want to speak to me. ^^;

And if I missed any awesome writing, I want names. You know the kind. =)

I'll catch up one day...

Thank you everyone who left me kind comments and encouragement. I appreciate it a whole lot. I've got to grab myself some means of IM so I can bug TP and Ayezur. When you least expect it, I'm going to poke you in the middle of the night, rouse you from the keyboard and leave you sleepless in the morning.

I don't really have the time to write a lot, though I'll maybe write more later just to let everyone know how I'm doing. It's hard—somehow, even now that I've left, he still finds ways to pull me down. He calls me 'just to talk about it', which always ends the same way. I'm just... ugh. When is it enough?

I just want to thank everyone who sent me notes of encouragement. Mary for all her amazing advice and help, Liz for checking in on me and making sure I'm okay, Doc for her sympathies, and thanks to Jay for the letter. It was really comforting.

I got this in my inbox and felt like sharing just because. I don't have time to fix every error, because hey, that's how forwards are. Oh, well. Yay, spam!

"If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way around the world by Mother's Day.
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, 'It's okay honey, Mommy's here'.
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted. This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football , hockey or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?' they could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat
For all the mothers who read 'Goodnight, Moon' twice a night for a year. And then read it again. 'Just one more time.'
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls 'Mom?' in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that t takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?
Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us.
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray.
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.
'Home is what catches you when you fall. l - and we all fall.'
Please pass this to a wonderful mother you know.
(I just did)
If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way around the world by Mother's Day."

... feels like I haven't been here for months. Probably 'cause I haven't.

I'm leaving Joe, by the way.

DON'T ANYONE LET ME BACK DOWN ON THIS.

HAHA BAD LUCK.

Sorry I haven't been around. It seems like I'm saying that a lot lately. I got involved in some stupid dispute with our property managers and some ridiculous story and not being able to get things broken around here fixed within a reasonable time-frame and Joe taking matters into his own hands.

So, I'll be back when I've figured out what to say in my letter to the owner. I want to call the Better Business Bureau, but I don't dare do that until we've moved out. I'm not stupid.

I've got oneshots coming for TP and Ayezur. woot. ♥

PS. I doubt McCain will ask Huckabee to be his running mate, but if he does because he wants the conservative Christian vote, I will deck him for mucking up my ballot. Of course, I'm sure McCain is smart enough to figure out that choosing Huckabee will lose him everyone else, plus the conservative Christians with common sense.

He terrifies even me. I say we hide him until the election is over.

Title: Kiss Me (2008)
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII OGC
Pairing: Vincent/Tifa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This year's Valentine's Day oneshot is a story about what happens when we take chances.

I took the train...

 

We've been on tornado watch since six this evening, and it's going to be up until seven in the AM. That means I've got eight and a half hours of non-sleep coming to me. And just much earlier today I was contemplating mortality and thinking that a tornado would be an awesome way to go. Oops.

So, if you don't see me again...