I'm at Dad's for Thanksgiving. I've been pawing through our vast CD collection and managed to find some Motley Crue and David Lee Roth. Huzzah! I've been trying to find Just Like Paradise for awhile--it's a great song, and I love it. Dave's the man. *Dances* This must be just like livin' in paradise~ and I don't wanna go home~

Anyway, I'm cold. D: And kind of bored. I wanna go on a walk, but I don't have my water backpack with me (and I think it'd freeze anyway). Even though it's a minor change of scenery from Mom's to here, I'm still bored and I wanna go out!

Is it December yet?

I'm gonna watch CSI tomorrow. ROGER'S ON. :D *fangirls and fawns over* He looks good with dark hair. Better with blond, but still good with that dark hair. I like watching Rog act; I personally think he IS a good actor. And I'll watch any damn thing with him in it. I'm such a fuckin' weirdo sometimes.

Dear FTCC:

FUCK YOU.

As well as the entire county educational system.

No Love at All,

Leiko

I'm obsessed with the song Endless Wire lately. *pets album* I love it. Far as I'm concerned, Pete's the mad old man from the song. He's the magic music man. :3

In other news: I'm so tired lately. I'm so bored. I'm basically just killing time until I get on the bus up to Ohio, which is still a couple of weeks away. I wanna go! I wanna see new things and get my energy back! But being here, where I am, is so boring. I don't have anybody my age or sensibilities to talk to. I don't have my books so I can read. There's absolutely nothing on TV at any time, and I'm quickly growing bored with the Internet too.

So now I'm just waiting for Ohio. I'm waiting for the bus. I'm just waiting to get out of here! I wanna go!

But it's still a few weeks, so I've buried myself in music and in sleep. I crash for about ten hours a day during the sunlight hours and sleep the day away, because there's simply nothing to do around here. Maybe I'll go hang out at the gas station for a few hours later today, or take a few-hour walk up the other end of the road.

At any rate, I'll have to concoct some excuse to get out of the house. As mean as it sounds, I'm sick of spending time with my stepfather and all of his relations. I've never liked his kids, and now his mother is here, too, and she bugs me for some inexplicable reason.

I'm so bored.

I hope Nasalam answers soon; I want to go visit their commune. Or maybe I'll go hang out with the Catholic Workers (...ignoring for a second that I'm not a Catholic). That's the kind of stuff I want to do! I want to work closely with the Earth, I don't want to concern myself with money, and I want to earn what I deserve from my brothers and sisters of the Earth. But nobody wants me to pursue this dream. It depresses me, and I feel more lonely than ever when people snicker condescendingly at me.

I think that's why I kill so much time sleeping and listening to my music and learning lots of useless music trivia. It's because I want a fantasy life, since I'm so often denied the friendship I want in real life (though not for a lack of trying). So my dreams become my real life. I develop a strange attachment to the people who appear in my dreams and I concern myself with the musicians I'm so fond of because it distracts me.

It's sometimes a sad realization.

But I can press on and keep on dreaming, and the fantasies are what keep me happy and sane. So thank God for Nate, Seth, Persephone, and the other figments of my imagination!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

*tears hair out*

Man, fuck the GED. They keep coming up with retarded rules to keep me from GETTING the damn thing. I'm not kidding. You all know I finished every last shred of my work in 29 hours. A little more than a day. Finished. Over. Done with it.

So I PM the guy about it, asking when the fuck I'm supposed to take my test. (Except I put it in a politer way.) He responds, "Oh, you only have 29 hours logged in. You have to have 75." See, they didn't tell me that at any point during the rest of the ordeal.

So what the hell am I supposed to do? Just sit around staring at a screenful of finished work for the next five days? It's fucking stupid. I finished all of my work, passed it all with flying colors, and that's that. I shouldn't have to sit around killing empty time just to meet requirements.

But since I'm fucked like that, I'm taking my brother's suggestion. He suggested that I just leave the screen up, move the mouse around occasionally to keep it from going on screensaver, and watch TV or do some other fun activity while the hours go past. Sounds good to me! So that's what I'm doing. I'm watching my soaps instead.

But man, fuck these stupid rules they keep coming up with.

And it may just be paranoia, or just sitting and contorting funny during the Week of Massive Bleeding, but dear God, I hope that oozy stuff on my backside is not the product of another cyst. And Dad thought I had a bad year last year--last year was downright enjoyable compared to all of this crap that's coming up lately.

Dinnertime conversation:

Me: Dad told me that Jill (my brother's girlfriend) is pregnant.
Mom: Yeah. Due in March.
Stepsibling #1: You know what that makes Amy (my mother)? Grandma!
Mom: (to me) You know what that makes you?
Me: What?
Mom: AUNTIE EM! *hums Wicked Witch theme*
Me: I wanted to be Glinda. :(

Yeah, my real name is Emily, so I guess it does make me Auntie Em. Much as I hate the prospect of being an aunt to anybody... but I saw it coming SOMEDAY. I don't want children myself and seek to be sterilized as soon as I can, but my brother's always wanted some kids, so I knew that someday, I'd wind up as Auntie Em. XP

I'm going to be the crazy aunt, though. ...Actually, really, I'll be the kid's ONLY aunt, because it's only Josh and I. No more siblings. So I'm going to be the crazy bitch aunt who tree-sits, attends CodePINK protests, and tells the kid how to grow marijuana in a darkened closet. :3 Ufufufufufufufu! I bet they won't want me over babysitting. Good. I hate babysitting.

I sent away for a free map of Columbus. I figure it'd be a good idea. I can't go around a place I haven't been for seven years purely by memory, you know? Besides, if I have to hoof it to the Value Center Arena, I'll need a map from Hilliard to there. XP

In other news: These mechanical pencils I have SUCK. They give you like, an inch of led every time you push the end of it. I don't NEED an inch of lead in order to write--I need very little, in fact. So I went through a bloody pencil within half an hour just trying to write a character profile for my ghost-hunters. Jesus.

In other other news: I hate my reproductive organs. GAAAAAARGH. (Happy Week of Massive Bleeding, everyone.)

In other other other news: I had a dream that I was a swan-dancer in a ballet. Despite the fact I've never danced... Anyway, the girls in the locker room were mean to me and no matter how much I fought back, they just got worse. But Nate appeared, said I looked lovely, and dragged me on a camping trip, which was infinitely more fun than the ballet dancing. But we didn't have extra clothes, so I had to wear my swan-dress on the trip, until Nate gave up some of his clothes and I was able to roll around and act like my tomboyish self again. :D Yayz!

Every month, Mom asks me to draw some seasonal picture for the refrigerator--an attempt to make up for lost childhood time, I suppose. I drew two pictures I really liked this month, but I guess she didn't like them. Here's a replica of my favorite done in MSPaint:

I hate Thanksgiving. I make it an attempt to give thanks for every day I'm alive, so I don't see why there needs to be a special day for it. I'm grateful to be alive every day, and I make it known. Also, I hate that we glorify the pilgrims so much. Fleeing from religious intolerance, then proceeding to hate on the Indians so hard. The white settlers fucked over the Indians. The Indians don't get much recognition. It's rather sad, I think. The settlers and the cowboys perpetrated a great injustice upon the native folks here, but they're so glorified in the annals of American culture, but Indians either show up in the corner as insane savages or slightly tanned white people.

I kind of agree with Abbie Hoffman from the intro to "Steal This Book." The Natives were cheated, bigtime, but it was portrayed as fairness instead. "The Indians should have offed Jimmy Stewart in every movie, and we should have cheered ourselves hoarse."

In other news: I sent away for a map of Columbus. It'll really suck if I have to wander all the way around Columbus looking for the Value Center Arena. So I think it'd be a good idea to have a city map in my backpack.

I've been plannin' stuff out for my week in Ohio. One month away! Just a month and I'll be on my way to see the boys. X3

So far, I've not planned on going anywhere really "special." At least, not anywhere like a museum or other attraction. I'd like to visit the cemetery in Hilliard while I'm there. My grandma Silsi is buried there, and it's been years since I've visited. I always like visiting cemeteries. Perhaps it's creepy or morbid of me, but I do like visiting them. There are tons of old graves there, and I always like visiting old graves. Keep them company, like.

I'd also like to visit Atonement Lutheran Church. That's the church we used to go to when we lived up there. I always liked Pastor Bell (he just retired this year, I dunno who's runnin' things now). I wonder if he'd remember me if I visited?

And I'd just like to take a walk around the town. I've never been able to just explore the way I want to explore the town--we always had someplace to go or something to do if we visited up there as a family, but now that I'll be up there alone, I'll have a chance to just observe things. I wanna see things I haven't seen in 14 years. Dad and Mum would never slow down so I could see them. But now I can. I'm quite looking forward to it. I wonder if it'll snow while I'm there? You never know, I suppose. I'd like to build a REAL snowman or throw some REAL snowballs... down here, you get probably an inch of snow every other year and it melts by the afternoon, so you never really get to make a proper snowman or throw decent snowballs. It's more like snow pellets and deformed shapeless lumps with snowman accents in them.

I'll have to pack my warm clothes, too, and perhaps my boots--I don't want my Yellow Submarine shoes getting soggy if it DOES snow while I'm there. Mom got me a bitchin' Jimi Hendrix sweater, and I wanna wear it soon. X3 Yayz!

Even if I don't find any museums or anything to go to, I'll always have something to do. I don't suppose it would do at all to merely loaf around on Johnny's couch, would it?

Yes, I'm starting to think it may be time to visit a psychiatrist or someone of the sort. Believe I'm starting to go quite paranoid. I smell smoke where there isn't any, I sometimes see haze in front of my eyes when there shouldn't be any (though this could be related to family-wide eye problems rather than budding paranoia), I stay up extremely late when I smell something that reminds me of burning material--like today, with the dust in the heater. I jerk out of a sound sleep if I smell Mom making poached eggs or something in the kitchen and go to investigate. I haven't used the stove or the oven in months--everything I eat lately has either been microwaved or doesn't require cooking at all. Just a few minutes ago, I was down on my hands and knees sniffing around the air vents because I thought I smelled smoke again.

I know this isn't normal behavior, and it worries me. I'm supposed to be the sane one, persevering through hardship and shining on through with optimism and all that. I've been able to pass through everything else and turn a light on that--losing my childhood home of eleven years, LOTS of personal possessions, and the expected trauma when one wakes up to one's house burning down. I've gotten through with that just fine, and I've moved on with my life. But it seems as though paranoia is welling up within me. It's starting to interfere with my life, and I don't like it. I also get the feeling that Mom and Gram are starting to worry, too. First from the report that I smelled something burny this morning (Mom confirms it was just burning dust from the heater kicking in for the first time this year). And now, just this evening, I told Gram that I smelled something smoky in this end of the house. She didn't smell anything, but told me to come and get her if the smell got stronger.

And I don't know whether to trust my nose or not anymore. I don't know whether I'm really smelling it or whether it's just in my likely-crazed mind. That's the bad thing about this--on the one hand, it would serve me well and keep me on guard. On the other, it would end up as a "boy who cried wolf" kind of scenario. Or I'll just wind up like the title character from American McGee's Alice. Jesus!

I wonder if I'm just being silly about this, or whether I really should go and get checked out or something. I mean, if it's interfering that much with my life, I probably should hitch a ride to the nearest psychiatrist's office, right? I wonder what Mom would say. I'll have to flag her down sometime soon and ask or leave her a note or something.

What do you guys think? Am I being silly about all this? Or do I have a legitimate concern?

It came! It finally came! *snuggles ticket* My preciousssssss.... preciousssssss.... *strokes it affectionately* ... What?

Anyway, I got it and locked it up safely in my cabinet, along with my Stephen King movies, my copy of Who's Next, and a flowerpot with nothing in it. It's safe. I'mma guard it with my LIFE.

*bounces* I can't wait, nyan!

I really like writing about the Phantom Saints. They're such a bunch of oddballs. They're just trying to put their various superpowers to good use as superheroes, but they're constantly blocked from joining superhero teams on very stupid grounds. Sophie Townshend--a girl with the power to cause good and bad luck--is rejected for not being pretty enough for the pinup calendar. Nate Fitzcairn--a superstrong, invulnerable guy--is barred on the grounds of being too pleasant and friendly. Doctor M--your typical mysterious space-drifter--is kicked out because he offers to head up a committee on alternative conflict resolution.

Think about comic books today. Everything is so grim and gritty; everyone manages to fit the Great Standard of Beauty; everyone seems to solve things by beating them into submission. Well, what if there were people who didn't fit into these categories? How would Sophie get by in the Marvel-verse? How would Nate get into the Vertigo imprint? How would Doctor M do anything in DC? They wouldn't.

The Tower Guard--the team that they're rejected from--is made up of today's superheroic archetypes--the dark, the amoral, the sexually-charged. They're like the Watchmen, more concerned with public image than with actually saving people. That's what Sophie, Nate, and Doctor M want to do. They have no concerns about their public image. Hell, Nate looks like he shops in the junkyard. But they manage to save more people than the Tower Guard does. Sophie manages to keep a train on its rails and foils a robbery. Nate saves an old lady and her cats from a raging fire in an apartment house. Doctor M robs from the rich and gives to the poor. But they're never given any positive attention in their home city. All of the credit is given to the Tower Guard, who never bother giving any credit to the Phantom Saints (as Doctor M calls their ragtag little team). The police hate them and often try to catch them just to arrest them. The public thinks that Sophie should become a housewife and mother instead of an ass-kicking mistress of fortune.

They're kind of like the Runaways, but they're more-or-less grown up. (Sophie and Nate often sit together on the couch on Saturday mornings watching cartoons and eating Cocoa Puffs.) And they aren't intended to be all that serious. It's more of a silly foray into "real" superherodom.

I love their reactions to their rejections in the first part of the story. Sophie is dragged away by security robots after she starts chattering about how heroism has nothing to do with a sex-kitten image and how offensive to feminism that was. Doctor M is literally thrown out--of a window--after suggesting that they form a committee dedicated to nonviolent conflict resolution and rehabilitation of criminals. Nate is considered, but thrown out because Captain Mars sees a pair of sexy blond twins snogging in the hallway. Even though they have totally useless powers, they're immediately accepted and Nate is booted out of the Watchtower.

They're just fun to write. X3 Roffles~

And their headquarters is an old boxcar in the railyard outside of town. "Not every hero can be Bruce Wayne," observes Doctor M. They're all completely broke and can't even afford a slummy apartment between them. Superheroism doesn't really pay much.

It's so fun to write the Phantom Saints. XD Their personalities are great and their interactions are, too.

If I had any wish, it would be to get this published into a real comic. It'd be so funny. XD

I'm madly in love with the new Who album. I got it today as a reward for toughing out Wal-mart on payday surrouned by CHYULDRUN. And even though I didn't get one of those jet-set-with-the-Who things I wanted so terribly, I'm happy that I've got the album--just hearing them is enough for me. *nods*

I particularly like Black Widow's Eyes. I'm not sure why I like it as much as I do. But it's a brilliant song. Brilliant album, even if everybody else is neutral on it. I've come to accept that not everything is gonna be Who's Next. And that made me fall for this album easier. Much love for it. ♥

In other news: I've been a bit cranky all day today. Loneliness getting to me, I suppose. Or just frustration with being around CHYULDRUN. I don't like kids. I love everyone in this world, but that doesn't necessarily mean I have to LIKE everyone. I'm sick of having to act in a child-friendly manner--I'm tired of having to be lumped in with kids--I wanna go back to Dad's. Even if he's a miserable bastard, I'd rather hang out with him and be treated as a functional adult and intelligent life-form rather than an over-emotional child.

Also, I'm sick of hearing shitty music all over this house. I wanna go back and listen to Dad's XM radio--hair metal, classic rock, oldies, and even disco. I'm tired of hearing "BUT HILARY DUFF IS SUCH A GREAT ARTIST" from my mother. Jesus! I thought she had better taste.

I can't wait until our house is fixed. Or until I visit Dad's again, or until I go visit Johnny up in Ohio. I'm looking quite forward to the latter--it's just a little more than a month! EEEEEE! I'll get to see my boys. Even if it's from a distance, I'll see and hear them live, and that's the important thing. :3

I can't wait to go on a trip by myself. I'm tired of having to wait for kids to tag along all the time. But this time, I'll be by myself, going as fast as I can to the place where I want to be, with the people I want to be with. Is it December yet?