Flash Fiction Challenge

The scissors are never sharp enough. The hair comes off in short clumps, chunks really. Once there were clippers, with an electrical buzz-buzz, to do the job. They are no more. Many things are no more. Memories. Most of those I don’t miss. I chose to discard them. To shove them away. The first two mares of the bloodline. Lost to disease. Only the third, youngest, remains. Youngest is a strange way to define her now. She has long since reached her prime, as have I. We have both lost too much, and mellowed from our mutual mania.

http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2011/11/18/11729/

I'm tired of being in the closet for all of you. Why should I? Because what I am makes you uncomfortable? Well good. I hope it does. I hope it makes you cringe. What I am hurts me. In and out. Do you have any idea what this is like? To have a disease that basically is trying to kill you? To have half of your brain trying to off you while the other half is trying to save you? It feels like being a sick hamster. And I know that makes no sense. Because I make no sense. This makes no sense. The misery of this stupid pointless misery makes no sense. And you all want me to be normal. Well fuck you. Because that just makes it so much worse. So much worse to try to hide it under the cloth of normal while there is some strange holy war being waged in the tiny cage of my skull. And no will ever win. Sometimes the one side will retreat and an uneasy peace will settle, but it doesn't last. See? Even the slight stability isn't really good. It's just a precursor to another downward slide. This disease sucks and I didn't ask for it. So take your expectations and shove them. I say NO.

The Heritage Cook’s Apple Crisp

Decided today that I needed to attempt baking again. Last time I tried brownies from scratch and it went badly. (We don't really need to talk about that.) Found a recipe that looked tasty and

simple (see link below) and dove in. Okay, more like dipped my toes slowly bit by tiny bit. Finally did get it made. Not sure my product is as tasty as the original but it is edible. I'm proud!

http://thenovicehousewife.word

press.com/2011/09/12/an-apple-a-day-the-heritage-cooks-apple-crisp-for-september-src/

Drag show....

Last night I attended my first drag show. Which I ended up not actually seeing any of. I know that makes no sense. I went, paid the cover, met up with a friend. The friend, M.H., is someone that I haven't seen in many years and used to rodeo with. We met up at the club, a strip club, which is where the show was being held. The beginning of the evening went well, a drink, a shot, some strippers. Really surprised to see that some of the strippers were not actually in that great of shape. Some of them had more cellulite than I do! Just before the amateur drag show was about to start, M.H. and I headed out for a smoke. Upon returning to our table she suddenly started vomiting. Profusely. We all slipped out the back door and decided to go elsewhere. Guess I still need to attend a drag show! The night continued in crazy and random ways, which included cops, more bars, and lots of Russian men. One of whom was nice enough to play air hockey and pinball with me. I won air hockey! Which considering I was quite drunk and have only played a couple of times back when I was a teen, I am pleased about. It was a good night and I have to admit that reviving attention non-stressful attention from men I'm not interested in was also nice. Sometimes I just want things to be easy and this was.

Cloud Study

Clouds around 4pm Mountain Time

I'm starting to get you, and I don't like it

So I see that we aren't talking again this morning. Talking being a relative term since you rarely talk to me. Texting or chatting is more your style. I guess this means that you're sober again and you don't currently want or need anything from me. I despise us right now. I despise you for being such an ass and myself for letting you stick around in my life and be this way. I was proud of me last night. I admit it, I wanted to hang out. But not in the lame manner you were offering. Not like some off to the side groupie that just happens to be there. I'm better than that. Sleeping was good for me. And when I woke up and there was a text from you, I guess I felt a little bit better. Like maybe you regretted not being nicer to me. But now, now I just feel crummy about you again. Because I know you're awake. I left you a facebook message. And I noticed when you logged on, and logged off, without talking to me. So what? Do you even remember texting me last night? Or is that just one more of those lost drunken things? Honestly, maybe I'm glad. I know you are totally wrong for me. I know if you ever made an effort to be part of my life you would probably stress my stability and that would be bad. So maybe this behavior is really a good thing. I know I'm confused, but every time you behave like the person I don't like, I want you out of my life a little more. It doesn't stay that way, but in time I think you won't manage to come back. And I will be glad.

Ativan and Forest Fires

Every morning lately has been a combo of cranky mood and grogginess. Which is odd for me because life right now allows me to wake up naturally and do my own thing, at least for the most part. However, I haven't been well lately, which has led to the necessity of the bedtime Ativan. This not being well includes shortened sleep, usually only until about one a.m. when I began restlessly tossing and turning. Also, I've been crying almost daily. For no good reason. Just randomly, like when leaving the grocery store or riding Loca. Or listening to music or petting the cat or driving or just about any other typical thing that shouldn't make people cry. So the Ativan, especially since I don't have another doctor appointment until November, which is quite awhile away.

Along with the chemical additives, the forest fires have started up around here again. The sky has been filled with smoke and hazy for weeks now. Waking up this morning, it took a full pot of coffee (okay, its a small coffee maker) and half a carton of orange juice to flush the groggy feeling. Also, almost four hours of wakefulness. Ugh. Not a fan. I prefer feeling good right when I wake up, but I guess everyone else does to... so that isn't anything crazy.