not dead

although i was jammed up in a plane for like a thousand hours today.  and then i fell asleep for another thousand.  because travel sucks.

also, it turns out the east coast is super hot and humid and they don't have trades.  basically: summer there sucks.

so....how are things going with you?  i'm kind of ok, i guess.  my boss is off on vacation for a week, and a lot of other people at work went with "fuck it, i'm touring the country" too.  probably will be a lazy week at work for me.

i need to get a story guide posted soon, because i saw that there were a bunch of comments about stories.  "exhibition" is done, everyone.  at least as far as i can tell right now.  "spa treatment" is next, but it's going slowly for some reason.

anyway, just a "my plane didn't crash" thing.

me. in social situations. or like, the fucking safeway. all the time, basically.

huh. that's a new one.

Dissociation.

i'm kind of thinking i had an episode or something like that today.  i was talking online with my friend from across the country, and suddenly thought of telling her about this other friend who was saying absolute nonsense.

and i sat there thinking about it, and when i couldn't come up with the other name to bring up, i realized that i was kind of out of it.

and then i realized that i'd somehow split her into two people in my head, and that i was about to tell her about the crazy shit she'd just done.

this doesn't seem like the best thing to have happen.  hopefully work will stop punching me in the tummy every damn day soon, and i'll be able to go try therapy again.

but first, i get to fly across the ocean, and then the rest of the country next week for a big work conference thing that i don't really want to go to, but my boss didn't give me a choice.

so if there's a plane crash in the news, and i suddenly stop posting forever, then i'm dead now, because i had to go to this conference i didn't even want to go to, but it's too bad, because it killed me.

dead.

but, hey!  good news!

work finally stopped punching me in the tummy.  every damn day.

:-/

hard limits

things i will never ever be into:

1. bugs.  no bugs.  ever.  ick.
2. eyes.  don't touch eyes.  do you wear contacts?  no.  stop.  wrong.  ick.  you put them on your eyes.  you see from there.  and you put something on it.  whoa.
3. finger nails.  all nails really.  don't try to put things under them, or whatever.  never do that.  that's just wrong too.  gah.
4. teeth.  i have teeth, they're not great, but they're mine.  i use them for chewing on stuff.  why would anyone want to read about teeth and horrible things done to them?  no.  stop it.  chomp!

sorry, just a "my brain has to put this out there now" kind of thing.  these are just forever nos. 

i know i like lots of fucked up shit that no one else likes, but there's some stuff that's just an instant turn off.  like brick wall kind of turn off.

does anyone else?

get this super panic feeling that just shows up for no reason, and you just have to coast through it, because you can't just get xanax to have forever unless you agree to sit down and do therapy again?

like

everything gets all tunnel vision, and you have the shaky arm stuff, and you just sit and stare blankly, hoping that your heart will just stop and kill you before you have to deal with people who will totally notice how off you are?

and then people show up, and start talking, and you turn your brilliant gaze at them, and they look like they're in this oval frame of shining light, but you have to strain to hear them, because you have those bees in your ears?

and then they go away, and you sit for an hour trying to remember what you said, and trying to figure out if your arm was really shaking as much as you think it was, because if it was, there's really no way anyone who isn't blind could have missed that shit, right?

and then you look at your work computer, and realize you have so much to do before the deadline, but you can't get that into you head, especially with this shining frame and difficulty getting the mouse to stay still.


sorry.

just

so much panic being pushed into my tiny brain.  i really wish i had more xanax.  is that me being a druggie?

do i even care at this point?

:-/

i stumbled across this author

and read the "Sow Primer" series, and i will probably have to go read some more of his stuff.

do other people

have this thing, where they google something, and then realize that wasn't what they intended to google, but it's too late now, you've learned about (like) ancient greece, and now you can't remember what you were going to google at all?

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The Exhibition: Breakfast

i don't know that i'm going to continue much more.  i just had to put a finish on things.

i did this as kind of stream-of-consciousness, which i usually don't do.  i like outlines, and detailed plot flows.  however, this has been kicking around my head for a few weeks, and that kind of smooths out the rough bits too.  and, since i'm trying to write a new story series (six parts or so?), i just wanted to get this out and done.

it's an epilogue.  or a segue.  we'll see how it goes.

it's boring, and not sexy, and not really super kinky.  it's words mostly.  and eggs and bacon.  it's breakfast.  but i had to get it out.

Breakfast.

in which sammy learns about other people who were probably lesbians, or at least bi, and i've known their work for like fucking forever.

Dusty Springfield.

i never knew who did that song, and then it popped up randomly, and i looked at it, and huh.

or that one.

or, that other one, but i guess dianne warwick did it first?  whatever.  that's not what i remember from listening in my grandparents' car.

this is apparently my life now.


freaking out about random shit from like sixty years ago, while i stay up later than i should before that stupid telecon with the east coast?

wah.