scrupulous skeleton lounge

 ugh. 

I've made a comeback. It's a strange, sad feeling, but it gives me hope, because I've been so deeply withdrawn for so long, and it seems like I'm finally slowly slithering my way back into being alive. Being alive hurts sometimes, has problems and troubles, but I feel like a person better capable of weathering those troubles, given the five, six(?) year long vacation I've taken from them. People say things like "the more things change, the more they stay the same," but I think the inverse is true. The more things stay the same, the more they change --

To maintain stagnation is to alter the meaning of what drew you into that routine to begin with.

Take, for example, a book I recently purchased, Blackout, by Sarah Hepola. At first, her alcoholism was a way for her to become the person she was afraid to be, a "liberated woman." It ended up becoming a way for her to drown out the person she had become. The compulsion and behavior itself didn't change, but maintaining a habit past its due date, past its utility, transforms experiment into self-flagellation. The same, I think, could be said of less destructive habits, such as fitness -- what starts as a routine constructed to reduce one's body size can transform into a routine of body awareness. Not that it stays past its due date, but at a certain point, the original goal is moot and meaningless, and not to acknowledge that can become a poison, a punishment. Like any other form of delusion.

In "real life," well, the world is a dynamic place. It always changes, whether or not you choose to acknowledge that, and so, for one to also change is not to abandon one's life, but instead, to prolong one's humanity, to stay updated in the subjectivity of living. 

I guess. 

Hmm. I just got back from vacation; went to Berkeley for a week, stayed with a friend, my fanboy drinking buddy. Watched TV, movies, cartoons, drank and ate and walked and such, pretty great. Stayed in his parents' mansion. I have thrown around the word mansion before, but they literally had a creek in their backyard, so, probably this one is a bit closer to that hyperbole than previous mansions (dansions). 

Yeh. I'm picking up slack. Paying more bills, trying to make the gesture of paying rent to my mom, paying off debts, it's actually kind of amazing. Doing paperwork and making calls. It's like I'm a real person. Sure, sometimes I struggle to crawl out of bed for a few hours, but the kind of unstructured life I lead was created to make difficult days less nerve-wracking. 

But yeah, I got back Monday, and I've been sleeping too much, but I'm starting to return to my human form. :3 

I reflected on a cyclical issue in my history, specifically, that of heterosexual women (sometimes identifying as bisexual) making advances on me, and then abandoning me and denying the significance of what happened, very abruptly and inconsiderately, as though my feelings are inconsequential. I realized that this has in fact been an issue in my life since I was 12 years old -- 17 year old girls were making professions of romance towards me (while I was still closeted myself) and then promptly saying everything in their life from ages 16-18 was worthless and trying to babble at me about cheating on their fiance with some guy they met on a cruise. ugh. At this rate, with the heartbreak I'm suffering from the newest wound inflicted in this pattern

(Winegirl, who in passing declared she was "a straight woman in a gay man's body" [uh when were you straight???] and then started talking about how monogamy is easy for her [when did you decide to be monogamous again and why] why did you not tell me these things despite having pursued me so declaratively before, why only say them in passing, frivolously, as though I have no feelings which could be affected by this sudden change of pace. Why are the things you had said to me before suddenly invalid? I have no claim over you, I do not own you and do not want to, but it is so gauche, so inconsiderate to pull me in so eagerly like that, and then forget it all happened TO MY FACE WHILE I AM TRAPPED IN YOUR HOME FOR DAYS -- no fucking wonder I spent all night crying in a closet.)

sigh. At this rate, I am starting to think that maybe I -actually need therapy- for the amount of rumination of my own worthlessness this is exponentially festering every time this occurs. I need to meet women for whom men are not the most important thing in life, perhaps. I have no idea if they even exist. I am certain I have worth, I am attractive, I clearly have the material with which to sustain long term relationships (even multiple) but I continuously get targeted by those who do not see me in a humanizing way, and perhaps should look into better environments and social circles. 

Yeah, okay, so the good parts of this...

I went to the dentist today and unintentionally networked with the x-ray tech girl who used to be involved in QA and whose father owns a big tech company in the valley and basically, I impressed her enough with my own current employment (at Lionbridge) that she suggested I could work for other companies as well, were I so interested! I have her number! :D I also know people locally who might be looking to stop working for an evil bank, so, I will pass that along as well.

That's perhaps the tip of the iceberg in this self-renovation.

I've kind of stumbled into the polyamory/skeptic circles on Facebook, like, big names, people with books -- I participate in their threads, I try to contribute and they seem to take an interest in the things I say. Of course, they're very interesting people who lots of people know, but god, i couldn't have said that I did anything this meaningful in 2013! This is important. I'm stepping up my presence. I didn't realize it at the time, I just met some of these people through other people, had some questions to ask about this and that topic... and ended up being invited to the dialogue. It's a good place to have stumbled into! 

I've... been in a rut, writing wise. I know I got a degree in poetry, but it was kind of self-deprecating for a while, but I've realized, I actually rather do like being a poet, all English-major mockery aside... I like the way of looking at things, as a poet. I like reading poetry. I know it's very insular, but it's good mental exercise. 

So. 

I've had this... story. I have a lot of stories, my dreams are in vast narrative detail, and people sometimes tell me to actually compose them into stories, and very rarely do I actually attempt. But there's one that's stayed in my head for years, really, years, I think about it often enough, recount it to people often enough, and I've spent enough time whining about not knowing what to write outside of college student dynamics... 

Okay, so I'm writing a post-zombie apocalypse story. It's not even got any zombies in it, I have no plans for that kind of horror. It's more about medical ethics and living under militarization and isolation to survive, without losing the human spirit. I dunno. The dream didn't have that many fleshed out characters, and I hope I don't get too trite and cliche, but hell, I need some exercise before my narrative muscles totally atrophy.

Also, I decided to do 5 pushups every time I like a facebook status (by a person, not a page) without commenting. Gotta amp up that word output. Gotta interact. Gotta get swole. This will help me on all these goals, haha. 

ok so like early this week my mom was like "wanna go to cancun next week?" and I said yes so now we're going to cancun.

Leaving tomorrow before sunrise, obviously.

Pretty nice, though. Apparently there's some convoluted story that ties this back to the whole horrible messy divorce thing, but I am unconcerned.  I will just relax and not worry too much out on vacation. I will wear cocktail dresses and drink by the pool, maybe I will get a massage or a facial finally, I will be okay.

Honestly, I'm at the point where I kind of feel a little sad I won't be able to be earning for that whole week. sigh.  $70 a day is nice, you know? I am also close to returning to camming. I also have started working on editing my sex tape, which is hilariously weird, because it's like I AM the porno. Well. I am. I am making the sex thing to sell to people who will download it and watch it on full screen. Watching your body do those things on full screen is weird, and even stranger to think that strangers will be doing that, and enjoying it. It's weirder, I guess, when it's a recording, rather than just doing it live.

Li-Chi got me a new router, it was a PITA to set up, but it's a lot better than that godforsaken dying router. The reason the (new) router was so cheap is because the company that makes them is out of business so there's no way to get technical support from them. Other than awkward maneuvering to get the thing working, it's fine. A little unstable, but that might just be my ISP. For whom the bill is more than a month past due, and also I have a second month past due now hahaha. I have money I can't yet deposit in my bank account because of reasons, how obnoxious.

I don't envy my mother her life. Being here at her house is hectic. She interrupted Sonya and Sedona to tell them how to sweep the floors correctly. She has to have my brother come over to convince him to take out another mortgage for her. She has to coordinate so many things, mortgages, people, plans, ugh. I want none of it. I like being at home, with my dust and my cats, with my lack of possessions, with my lack of children. She just got an iPhone 5 and needed someone to walk her through setting it up, even though none of us have an iPhone, and we told her to use Google, but she said she "just wanted to focus on this," and kept asking us things, so I took her laptop and sat beside her with Google open and told her what to do, and it was annoying for me, but she was grateful. Old people being bad at technology, sigh. I don't ever want to be that old. I don't want multiple mortgages. I don't want children. She has increasingly bad arthritis and as such is in constant pain, and only one of her hands is useful, and that terrifies me so much that I try to open every door for her that I can, volunteer to carry everything (even though she is stronger and more practical than me). Aging is terrifying.

I am going to ask her a lot about her life, though, on this trip. Hopefully over cocktails. She's hilariously candid when she's had a bit to drink, but even when she hasn't, I'm old enough that she tells me sketchy things. For instance, as a teenager, she had a fake ID (at 16) and went to the discotheques, and her friend had a sleazy uncle, Uncle Al, who would give them pot and booze and drugs in exchange for one of her friends dancing for him, and they all knew never to be alone with him or else he'd do something untoward. Her mother never knew about this guy, her older brothers never knew either. I also want to know about her father, who she compares at times to me -- she loved him the most of all her siblings, and he was odd and vain and drank too much and was well connected despite being a day laborer. None of her other siblings much liked him, she was his special kid, though. I want to know if she ever felt any stigma from outsiders being perceived as a "single mother," raising my older brother in her early 20s, while my father was away working. I want to know why she has the values that she does -- why is she modest, why does she want to take care of people (a trait I inherited), why does she believe in a unifying energy of the universe (religion, faith, god), why is she a liberal academic, all of that stuff.

I enjoy learning the stories of people. That is why I am here, for instance.

 All I do is work these days. And yet it's not for so much money yet. I've started keeping spreadsheets of all that I do, to compel me to be more productive. I actually have started investigating which ad companies are queer friendly. I've sent a query letter; the response was positive. 

I was kinda living on lentils and rice for a week. Then I ran out of lentils. Then I ran out of rice. 

Seeker was supposed to buy me a pizza, but the fryer at Pizza Hut broke, so they had to sub in something else for free, and then when the pizza showed up, they needed to see the ordering card... which is impossible, as he is in Australia. It was so close, I could have just grabbed it and run. I should have. I was so hungry and tired. 

My internet bill has been past due for 3 weeks now. The only reason they haven't shut me off, probably, is because I paid part of it. 2.79 before the bill was due, then a few days ago a friend chipped in another 24 or so, and now only 20.50 is left. Shoe said he'd pay it, but his card was declined for some reason, ugh. That makes me wary of having anyone else try to pay it either. Every day I wake up with internet is a blessing, because that's the only outlet I have, that's how I talk to people, that's how I make money, that's how I stay sane. I like to imagine the reason, though, that they haven't disconnected me yet is that someone who works at the ISP loves me. My periods of disconnection have increased, in the last two days. In reality, I know that's because my router has corrupted firmware, but I like to imagine that's actually my secret admirer arguing with his coworkers to show me mercy; this back and forth of dramatically plugging and unplugging a cord. 

I mean, odds are that they just haven't noticed me, but, the story is compelling. If they did disconnect me, I'd have to pay a reactivation fee, ugh. 

I miss Madeleine. Since she's been back, she still hasn't been as accessible as she was before. She's going to vanish again in a few days... I hate it. I miss her affection. I know there's a lot going on, she's dating someone now, but I felt like we had something, and now I can't reach her any more. She sent me some BTC to buy acid, and we've had a few conversations about condoms and I won really hard at Words With Friends again, but nothing as meaningful as the way we used to talk. It hurts. sigh. 

So, even though I'd determined my fixation with the yumikuri pairing wasn't all to do with her (it wasn't), I think I should probably change my desktop to not being yumikuri fanarts, because it makes me a little sad. 

I think my name is Amalthea, now. I ended up using it as an alias on the sites I write for, and I feel comfortable looking at it, wearing it as my self-concept. I've emerged from the wandering jelly phase of Squirxical, after the long elusive trek of Etcetera. I am starting to form together, to a whole, to a person again. I like this person better than the one I was. I won't ask anyone to call me anything different from the name they met me on, but it's strange... strange feeling, to attach to a name again. I felt a little ostentatious taking the name of a unicorn, but now I don't feel like that's too much to ask.

I told my mom about my monetized blog idea, and she really loved the idea of making a WAH resource for queer people, and she said she'd actually front all of the start up costs -- hosting, software, domain, everything. I was blown away. She said she was very proud of me. 

She said those words directly, "very proud," about how she felt about me.

I never hear those words so directly... I hear them used for my sister, but never for me. So, it means a lot, to finally be doing something my mother will be proud of. So, I guess I'll really dedicate myself to it. I feel strongly about it, I feel like it's important, like it could really help people. 

Marcia, my step-mother, signed papers putting my mother on the deed for where I live, so she can't evict me any more. So, my living situation is stable. However, she's still holding my little sister's cat hostage. Mom and Sedona are so amazed that I still want a relationship with Marcia, that I don't hate her like they do. I am maybe too forgiving, and maybe not living with her for as long as they did, I didn't see her the same way. Marcia wasn't as invasive with me as she was with everyone else; she was at peace with me being vague. This person they describe is hard for me to fathom. I will not push for them to relate to her in any way. Maybe I have been deceived. I feel pity and compassion for her. Maybe I am too soft.

I am learning how to churn out content on a regular basis, doing all this shitblogging for these pay-to-x sites, which really was my goal, moreso than the actual earning. The earning was the carrot on the stick for training myself to do something of value. Now I can start writing for real content mills that pay like $8 per post, hopefully.

I am starting to think that maybe I can stop believing that Lucas will leave me when he meet someone else who is local and fun. I mean, I've already accepted that he wants to come with me when I move, it's just that I also think that something could just as easily throw him off path, something convenient. Maybe. I miss him too. He works a lot, he goes to school for long hours, and so I haven't spent much time talking to him lately... sigh. 

I need cuddles.