i'm in a hopeless sort of mood. if you haven't already surmised.
Chewy has made himself a little fort out of the quilt and my pillow and is peeking out from it at me. so cute. Evie is over threatening to gut someone. i wish she would shut up. she isn't happy staying in, and she isn't going out. she is an overly friendly black cat. we may as well tie her to a stake with a target on her sides. i've got the spray bottle of cold water now, she has shut up. just seeing it was enough to calm her down. Bagira wants to go out, too, but you don't hear him threatening everyone over it.
i guess this weekend we'll do "my" room. get a steamer and do the carpet and the futon and the stuffed animals and then spray the shit out of it. it is turning out that alcohol is just as expensive as the toxic chemicals we could spray in here. we've found it's cheapest in small quart-sized containers at the evil walmart (doc insists we can't stop shopping there, it is the only place we can afford). my station in life would seem to dictate my actual politics. *sigh* i also need new sheets, which means getting rid of my orange sheets. which i will never be able to replace. they are covered with blood drops from the bugs getting squished in my sleep and the dog popping them. eww. i know. and i don't dare get black sheets. i may never sleep on a dark surface again.
i'm mad. i'm buried in how unfair it is, to the point where i am weak. i'm not standing up and taking care of it. i'm laying here, whining and being the victim. what the fuck is my problem? i really don't know.
i posted an old poem i found today. i posted it on allpoetry.com. i got a comment on it, the girl said she could relate to what i was trying to convey in it. that made me feel pretty fucking good. it even managed to eat away at a bit of my misery. that's what i want from my poetry, to touch someone. to have at least one person out there say, "i get it, i know, i feel that way, too. but you put it into words,". one person per poem. that is my goal. this poem got its person. it had never seen the light of day. i tend to do that with allpoetry.com, post things that haven't been seen here or on facebook. whether old or new. i haven't heard anything, so i'm guessing i didn't get an honorable mention in the fall poetry contest for new members. kind of a bummer. but it's not like i put a lot of effort into it. i didn't. i wrote a poem one morning sitting outside and happened to find a title in the contest requirements that fit it.
i'm 2/3 of the way through Blackwood Farm by Anne Rice and i don't want to read any more. because it is going to start winding down now and i'm really into it. i had this same crisis before, when i read it. though now i have all the rest of Rice's books on the computer. so it won't be so painful to see it end. i can just go on to the next adventure. i have to get used to reading on the laptop for more than a liberal media article's length of time. i have so many books on the computer now. and i've downloaded readers that recognize most of it.
in the morning . . .
i don't know what my block is with posting these things.
no sleep. not for lack of trying. got into several fights with felix concerning him getting the fuck off me. i lost. now that i'm sitting up and moving around, he is no where to be seen. the dog and leia stayed wrapped up in my legs, so they were no problem. Chewy seems to be getting to know my moods and acting accordingly without me verbally prompting him. he knows a few commands:
- on your butt: sit
- fuck off: 5 feet of distance
- HERE: get over here and sit next to daddy
- bitch, be cool: lay down
- get out of here: leave the room
- biscuit: biscuit
- treat: bacon treat
so he's a smart dog. he knows my tone. to the point of ignoring what i say, so anytime i talk to the cats, he hears lovey voice and comes running and gets in the middle of what i'm doing with the cats. it also means i have to calm down before i try to give him orders. he needs a kennel. a cage. a medium one we can put a bed in, a safe place for him to go. a place for us to put him when he's being timed out. i have a place for it in the dining room. i don't like his time outs being locked in a room. i want him out here with us.
oh look, the sun is coming up, another bloody day. fabu-fucking-lous.
do i put the living room back together?
i need to fix the other laptop. i'm thinking of trying to trick it into booting off the DVD. instead of this straight forward bullshit that hasn't been working. i feel so helpless with laptops. with desktops, i can get in there and crawl around and fix things. with laptops, it's all software issues and i am no good at them. the most i can do is try to cheat when the rules don't work.
oh look, doc is home. this day may not completely suck. maybe i'll put him to work on the other laptop. he seems to have a magic touch with it. and i tell you, if B sees it once i get it up and working and thinks he can have it back, he is out of his mind. oh wait, what am i saying? he won't be over here. i made doc promise not to let him come over anymore because i can't be trusted to behave.
yeah, see, doc got it working. formating drive now. then the install begins. and i have a code key, in fact i have almost a hundred of them. on to that. then the installation of the software for the cam and we'll be set. time to go dust off the other USB hub, i'm going to need it with this beast.