;_;
RIP Pal.
RIP Pal.
Current Mood: 
sad
sadCurrent Music: food network ✿ iron chef america • flay vs kelly
✓ sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture ✖
✖ and save it from the funny tricks of time ✓
20 April 2009 @ 07:53 am
Dizzy spells. All morning. Fuck. Not impressed with that. God damn it.
Bah. Someone call my father for me.
I really don't feel like being the fail daughter right now. Bleh.
Current Mood: sad
sadCurrent Music: foiled ✿ blue october • hate me
09 April 2009 @ 12:28 am
...And people think you're a great writer, well, because...?
Current Mood: 
annoyed
annoyedCurrent Music: bat out of hell ¢ meatloaf ; paradise by the dashboard lights
03 April 2009 @ 04:14 pm
Swear to fucking God.
Christ on a fucking cracker.
Hoorayyyyy ._.
No blood needs spilling. I can put the sacrificial goat away. For now.
Current Mood: 
irritated
irritatedCurrent Music: - - ¢ - - ; - -
17 February 2009 @ 05:48 am
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
Maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
Maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
Current Mood: 
numb
numbCurrent Music: weathered ¢ creed ; one last breath
09 February 2009 @ 06:57 pm
:)
Current Mood: 
relieved
relievedCurrent Music: the way up ¢ pat metheny group ; opening sequence
08 October 2008 @ 02:23 am
And I'm not sure why, but I feel like a failure tonight.
Even though I feel I was writing well and all that jazz, still
Still a huge F for failure painted on my forehead.
God damn it all.
Even though I feel I was writing well and all that jazz, still
Still a huge F for failure painted on my forehead.
God damn it all.
Current Mood: 
depressed
depressedCurrent Music: indestructible ¢ disturbed ; inside the fire
28 September 2008 @ 11:23 pm
For the first time since I got here I thought about moving home.
I hate that. I never want to think that ever again. Ever.
I will never leave my husband just because something happened that I'm unsure I can deal with, or get over easily. Never. I love him far too much to leave him alone. Besides, I'm too used to his company. I can't do it. I can't be without him. I just.. ..Can't.
I need to think of better things. I need to find a job. I need to save money.
...I really do hate life, in general, at times. This is one of those times.
Sigh.
I hate that. I never want to think that ever again. Ever.
I will never leave my husband just because something happened that I'm unsure I can deal with, or get over easily. Never. I love him far too much to leave him alone. Besides, I'm too used to his company. I can't do it. I can't be without him. I just.. ..Can't.
I need to think of better things. I need to find a job. I need to save money.
...I really do hate life, in general, at times. This is one of those times.
Sigh.
Current Mood: numb
numbCurrent Music: the black parade ¢ my chemical romance ; sleep
17 September 2008 @ 12:19 am
I feel like dirt.
I feel like the scum of the Earth.
I've been crying all afternoon. Now all night.
I hate this.
I hate being lower class.
I just want to be able to do something for me. For us. For fun.
Fuck, life has a good way of ruining everything.
God damn it.
I feel like the scum of the Earth.
I've been crying all afternoon. Now all night.
I hate this.
I hate being lower class.
I just want to be able to do something for me. For us. For fun.
Fuck, life has a good way of ruining everything.
God damn it.
Current Mood: depressed
depressed30 July 2008 @ 06:39 pm
djkfahjghjelahgjktrhgjktrhgakhlkfhdjhla
CHRIST ON A FUCKING STICK FUCKING GOD DAMN IT TO FUCKING HELL.
People need to fucking learn to shut the fuck up and wait until mods deal with shit, or just fucking drop dead before I do that for them.
Christ all fucking God damn mighty. I do not fucking need this right fucking now. I have better and bigger fucking things to think about, without this fucking shit on my fucking plate right now.
Know what? Fuck you. You fucking win. I'll fucking drop him. I hope you burn in fucking hell for being an obnoxious piece of shit.
Fuck.
CHRIST ON A FUCKING STICK FUCKING GOD DAMN IT TO FUCKING HELL.
People need to fucking learn to shut the fuck up and wait until mods deal with shit, or just fucking drop dead before I do that for them.
Christ all fucking God damn mighty. I do not fucking need this right fucking now. I have better and bigger fucking things to think about, without this fucking shit on my fucking plate right now.
Know what? Fuck you. You fucking win. I'll fucking drop him. I hope you burn in fucking hell for being an obnoxious piece of shit.
Fuck.
Current Mood: 
pissed off
pissed offCurrent Music: cold case files @A&E
27 July 2008 @ 12:34 am
Crisis averted. Thank God.
Still worried, though. At least it wasn't as terrible as I thought it might be.
Well.
...Sort of, I guess.
Still worried, though. At least it wasn't as terrible as I thought it might be.
Well.
...Sort of, I guess.
Current Mood: 
sleepy
sleepyCurrent Music: a wound that won't heal @A.C.T
26 July 2008 @ 01:13 am
Oh God panic settling in.
Remind me to never fucking open any mail from Loriann ever again after having a good day.
Ah Christ. If something fucking happened and she never fucking told me. Again.
fjdklsfjls:jflkdjfldjkafjalwkrjgfraeilkh
No sleep tonight at fucking all.
Remind me to never fucking open any mail from Loriann ever again after having a good day.
Ah Christ. If something fucking happened and she never fucking told me. Again.
fjdklsfjls:jflkdjfldjkafjalwkrjgfraeilkh
No sleep tonight at fucking all.
Current Mood: 
worried
worriedCurrent Music: the diary @A.C.T
25 June 2008 @ 03:27 am
Dear Uncle Fred,
I'm sorry I couldn't be there in your last days. You know that if I could be I would have been at your side the entire time, bringing you your 'damned tea' and making plans for things that you could build despite the fact that your arthritis was much too bad for that sort of thing. It was the hoping that kept you going on about creating new things, wasn't it? I can't blame you for that, I would think like that as well. Actually, I probably got that line of thought process because of you, much like I got other things about my personality thanks to you and your snarky attitude. I wouldn't change any part of you if anyone gave me a method to do so -- not even you lack of will to go on in the end. I understand why you couldn't go on and I don't blame you, not one bit. And I never will.
I keep trying to think of the memories I could share with not only myself or my husband, but friends as well but nothing comes to mind aside a few silly things here and there that I can think of not being too personal to get into. Still. There are a few and I suppose I could let them be known, just for the hell of it. I keep having my dad tell me over and over about how we were at Nanny's when Mom and Dad just got me from the shelter and that when you asked to hold me you had to tell yourself how to do it again after not having many little babies around when I was born since you're children had grown up. And then, again at Nanny's when I was only one years old that you asked Dad -- not sure if you were kidding, you never did tell me -- if you could fill my baby bottle up with some pepsi and feed it to me. I'm not sure if Dad thought you were joking or not either, but apparently he gave you the OK and you took it seriously. I owe my addiction to carbonated drinks all to you, what a wonderful addiction you created for me at such a young age. Frankly, I'm surprised I never spat it up or barfed. (Then again, maybe I did and no one told me?)
I remember when we went to visit you and Aunt Marge you had let Captain out of his cage. It's a shame that he passed away so long ago, he was an adorable little parakeet. Anyway. I remember sitting on the couch with Mom and Morgan, listening to you rant about the stools you were making for us when Aunt Marge began to laugh and your face turned really, really red. I didn't realize it until you yelled out a select few curse words that up until then I had not heard before that Captain had pooped on your head. It must have been Hell to get out of your full head of hair, too. At least it provided us with some laughs while you continued to curse out your adorable little bird. I suppose we'll always have those stools to remember you by, as well. Each one made with love and care, more fun than the last because of the names of each kid. Who would have thought of blocks in a stool? Not me, ha. The only more recent memories I can think of off the top of my head happen to be of you coming to work and grumbling about the price of bacon and asking if I could get you a discount for being a relative. (I'm still sorry I couldn't, you know!) And that you wanted to build me a cute little Makar. I think you're the only elderly relative I can think of that enjoyed watching a kid play a video game like you did. How many times did we have to walk around the damn map in the original Zelda game before we finally found that damn door anyway? Long enough, I should say. -- By the way, I still say tugging a controller out of the system is cheating when playing Mortal Kombat, I don't care how many 'listen to your elders' you give me, buddy. It's still not right!! ..But it did teach me to do it to Morgan when I would start to lose against him! ;)
I suppose I probably have a lot more memories I could share, but none that I really feel the need too. It's best to keep the most of them inside so that I can remember you clearly for the crazy, childish and irritating man that you were and always will be in my heart. I take all your words of wisdom (and those lacking in wisdom) to heart and soul, and all the nasty cuss words you taught me to assist in making me curse like a sailor along with be day-by-day for the rest of my life. I'm sure that wherever you are that you're in peace and you're with Aunt Marge, supposing that there's an afterlife. Like the card said: I love you, go in peace. And I do, and I hope you did. I'll try to be strong and not be a 'wimp-cake' like you always called Aunt Kay and Aunt Shirley, but I make no promises. My only regrets are that I was not there for the ceremony, you never got the chance to meet the love of my life, and you will never get to torture my children like you torture (I mean, loved!) me.
I love you.
Megan ♥
I'm sorry I couldn't be there in your last days. You know that if I could be I would have been at your side the entire time, bringing you your 'damned tea' and making plans for things that you could build despite the fact that your arthritis was much too bad for that sort of thing. It was the hoping that kept you going on about creating new things, wasn't it? I can't blame you for that, I would think like that as well. Actually, I probably got that line of thought process because of you, much like I got other things about my personality thanks to you and your snarky attitude. I wouldn't change any part of you if anyone gave me a method to do so -- not even you lack of will to go on in the end. I understand why you couldn't go on and I don't blame you, not one bit. And I never will.
I keep trying to think of the memories I could share with not only myself or my husband, but friends as well but nothing comes to mind aside a few silly things here and there that I can think of not being too personal to get into. Still. There are a few and I suppose I could let them be known, just for the hell of it. I keep having my dad tell me over and over about how we were at Nanny's when Mom and Dad just got me from the shelter and that when you asked to hold me you had to tell yourself how to do it again after not having many little babies around when I was born since you're children had grown up. And then, again at Nanny's when I was only one years old that you asked Dad -- not sure if you were kidding, you never did tell me -- if you could fill my baby bottle up with some pepsi and feed it to me. I'm not sure if Dad thought you were joking or not either, but apparently he gave you the OK and you took it seriously. I owe my addiction to carbonated drinks all to you, what a wonderful addiction you created for me at such a young age. Frankly, I'm surprised I never spat it up or barfed. (Then again, maybe I did and no one told me?)
I remember when we went to visit you and Aunt Marge you had let Captain out of his cage. It's a shame that he passed away so long ago, he was an adorable little parakeet. Anyway. I remember sitting on the couch with Mom and Morgan, listening to you rant about the stools you were making for us when Aunt Marge began to laugh and your face turned really, really red. I didn't realize it until you yelled out a select few curse words that up until then I had not heard before that Captain had pooped on your head. It must have been Hell to get out of your full head of hair, too. At least it provided us with some laughs while you continued to curse out your adorable little bird. I suppose we'll always have those stools to remember you by, as well. Each one made with love and care, more fun than the last because of the names of each kid. Who would have thought of blocks in a stool? Not me, ha. The only more recent memories I can think of off the top of my head happen to be of you coming to work and grumbling about the price of bacon and asking if I could get you a discount for being a relative. (I'm still sorry I couldn't, you know!) And that you wanted to build me a cute little Makar. I think you're the only elderly relative I can think of that enjoyed watching a kid play a video game like you did. How many times did we have to walk around the damn map in the original Zelda game before we finally found that damn door anyway? Long enough, I should say. -- By the way, I still say tugging a controller out of the system is cheating when playing Mortal Kombat, I don't care how many 'listen to your elders' you give me, buddy. It's still not right!! ..But it did teach me to do it to Morgan when I would start to lose against him! ;)
I suppose I probably have a lot more memories I could share, but none that I really feel the need too. It's best to keep the most of them inside so that I can remember you clearly for the crazy, childish and irritating man that you were and always will be in my heart. I take all your words of wisdom (and those lacking in wisdom) to heart and soul, and all the nasty cuss words you taught me to assist in making me curse like a sailor along with be day-by-day for the rest of my life. I'm sure that wherever you are that you're in peace and you're with Aunt Marge, supposing that there's an afterlife. Like the card said: I love you, go in peace. And I do, and I hope you did. I'll try to be strong and not be a 'wimp-cake' like you always called Aunt Kay and Aunt Shirley, but I make no promises. My only regrets are that I was not there for the ceremony, you never got the chance to meet the love of my life, and you will never get to torture my children like you torture (I mean, loved!) me.
I love you.
Megan ♥
Current Mood: 
uncomfortable
uncomfortableCurrent Music: phoenix wright; trials & tribulations @nin ds
20 June 2008 @ 10:56 pm
At least there is no more pain for him now.
Current Mood: uncomfortable
uncomfortableCurrent Music: ... @...