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Jan. 8th, 2017

Depressed

Broken Heart

I have a giant hole in my heart now.



My adorable, big, fur baby died today. Technically, he was no longer mine. When I moved out, I chose to leave him with my parents, because my house is so much smaller than theirs. But I was originally his person. He loved me, trusted me. And now he's gone.

It was so fast. So fucking fast.

By some miracle, I was over at my parents' today. My mom wanted me to help her put the Christmas decorations away. I got over there around 1:00 p.m. I had no idea anything out of the ordinary was going to happen. Spike was sitting on the couch. I walked over, held out my hand to him. He let me pet him. Mom and I got to work. We put away most of the decorations, then ate some cinnamon rolls. We got back to work. I was happy. We were talking, laughing, finishing up. All of a sudden, at right around 3:40 p.m., we started hearing a really loud cry coming from the upstairs landing. I had two pictures in my hand, but I ran up there. What I saw turned my blood to ice in my veins. Spike was panting heavily. It is *never* a good sign when a cat is panting. He continued crying. Poop was coming out of his behind. He wasn't moving his back legs. I dropped what I was holding in the bathroom. Dad stayed with Spike while Mom tried calling the vet. Since it's a Saturday, the vet wasn't around. So instead, we decided to take Spike to the animal hospital off of Holly and County Line. We put a towell in a basket, and carried him in the basket. He cried almost the whole way to the vet. I sat in the backseat, petting him, trying to comfort him. As soon as we got in, they took him back. Then they took us into a room. A few minutes later, they came back, asking if we wanted them to use CPR, to try to revive him. They tried. It didn't work. We asked to say good-bye, but by the time we got back there, he was gone. His heart had stopped. It was around 4:20 p.m. He was gone in less than an hour. After we explained the circumstances, the vet said that it was probably a blood clot, an embolism of some kind. There was nothing they could do.

Thank all of the gods that I was there today. I think I would hurt even more if I hadn't had a final chance to pet him, and if I hadn't been there. I needed to be there.

It was so sudden, I feel like I have whiplash. I can't believe I woke up this morning, thinking it would just be an ordinary day. Instead, I now have to learn how to live in a new reality. A reality in which Spike is no longer alive.

I've lost other pets before. Red, Wick, Winston, Remington, Bugs, Zoe, Squeaker, Wile E., and Rudy, not to mention my fish and Otis the tarantula. But this is different. I don't know if it's because I'm older, or because it's Spike. I would say Spike was mine, but it's more accurate to say that I was his. I was his human. He decided that fairly early on (like within the first week or so after we got him.) He loved me. He would let me comfort him when he had to go to the vet, in a way he wouldn't let anyone else.

Spike had a big personality, if a bit on the grumpy side. He did not like any other cats, other than his own brother...and even then, he could get really cranky towards him too. Picking him up meant getting a quite satisfying squeeze. He was very vocal. If he didn't like something, he would let you know. We had to take him to the hospital when he was still pretty young. We could hear him crying the whole way down the hallway, and the whole way back.

I want him back. I would give just about everything I have to get a little more time with him. I know, he's just a cat. But he was *my* cat. I love him. And I hurt. I don't want to get used to this new hole in my heart. I will. I know I will. But gods above and below, it's going to be so fucking hard. I wasn't ready to lose him. I wasn't.

Good-bye, Spikey-baby. I will always miss you.
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Jan. 4th, 2017

Charmed sisters

2016: Reflections

I know a lot of people have said how much 2016 sucked. And indeed, for several people I know personally, it did. However, it did not suck for me. And since I was raised Catholic, and feel guilty for breathing, I do feel guilty that what was horrible for a lot of other people was not horrible for me.

Cut for length.Collapse )

New Year's Goals:

1) Do whatever is possible for me to have a child.
2) Write at least three livejournal entries a week.
3) Keep a reading blog of every book I read from start to finish. (I'm curious about how much I actually read.)
4) Get a start on some big project by the end of the year to write.

Jan. 3rd, 2017

Charmed sisters

Star Trek: The Next Generation

Lately, I've been re-watching Star Trek: the Next Generation. I say re-watching, because I was raised on watching this show. It was our family show, and we never missed an episode. I remember the night the series finale aired, and my family watched it together. BUT, I know I don't remember watching it in order. I was two years old when the show aired. I remember a lot more episodes in order starting in season four, more so than the other seasons. Though I have watched re-runs many times in my life, this is the first time I've watched it in order.

My reactions to this show as an adult are very different from the ones I had as a child. As a child, I loved Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise. I hated Wesley Crusher. My favorite character would probably have been Data. Things have changed a lot.

Season one was bloody painful to watch. It took me over a year to finish that season, and that's even with having the series in the background while I played video games. I can see why Wesley Crusher was not a popular character, because they wrote him as a bit of an insufferable know-it-all. But he's not nearly as bad as everyone thought. Because everyone was badly written in season one. The episode "Datalore" that introduced Data's brother, Lore, made all of these supposedly smart look incredibly stupid. Wesley was the *only* character who seemed to notice that there was something wrong with "Data's" behavior, and was the only one who figured out that Lore was running around pretending to be Data. It was infuriatingly bad writing. And season one is chockful of examples of it.

Season two got a lot better, though there were still mishaps. Dr. Pulaski's initial introduction to the cast was incredibly annoying. She, too, was an insufferable know-it-all. I grew up not liking her, though not exactly being sure. Now, as an adult, I know exactly why I don't like her. She had the same problem everyone else has: she started off being badly written. She did get better by the end, though I see it less as character growth, and more as the character being softened. (Piper has a pretty good argument for the character having growth, in how her character changed from the beginning of season two to the end of season two. However, I don't necessarily agree. I think the writing just got better, and whatever character growth Pulaski had was accidental.) Season two did feature a lot of really good episodes, "The Measure of a Man," "Q Who," and "The Emissary," being examples of them. However, it still suffered from a lot of odd and off writing. Season two is also the first season to show the Borg.

Season three is where things really start getting going. The show found its stride, and figured out what it wanted to be. Dr. Beverly Crusher makes an incredibly welcome return. As an adult, she is now one of my favorite characters from the show. I just love how she is a widow, a mom, and a dedicated career woman. The writers have done a really good job in writing all of these things in such a seemless way that you don't even think about it. I also love the friendship between Troi and Crusher, and the relationship between Picard and Crusher. It is this season where the characters really settle into who they are going to be for the rest of the show. Chief Miles O'Brien starts becoming a bigger character, which eventually leads to him becoming one of the main characters in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. And season three is notable for featuring the capture of Captain Picard by the Borg in "The Best of Both Worlds" part one. "The Best of Both Worlds" parts one and two are two of the best episodes of this series.

I am now about halfway through season four. One of the things that I'm realizing is that I don't really like Picard that much. ^_^; I feel terrible saying that, since he is such an iconic character. I do love Patrick Stewart. But I'm just not liking Picard. He's too...Starfleet, too rigid, too adhering to the Prime Directive, which I'm finding as an adult, I don't necessarily agree with all the time.

So that's my thoughts so far. More as I continue watching.

Dec. 28th, 2016

not gravedigger

Horror Fest

I've been specifically thinking about writing this entry about horror movies. Specifically, about the horror movies that have truly terrified me in my life. So, here they are, in order of about when-ish they appeared in my life. In order to make it on this list, the movie needed to have made a significant impact in my life, in my behaviors, or even just given me an incredibly memorable nightmare. With no further adieu, here they are.

1) The Big Bad Wolf from "The Three Little Pigs" and "Little Red Riding Hood." Okay, this one breaks the rules, because it's not from a specific movie per se. But the Big Bad Wolf was my first boogey man. I was terrified of him as a child. I had recurring nightmares between the ages of three and six about the Big Bad Wolf. We had the Disney version of "The Three Little Pigs" on cassette tape. I couldn't listen to it as a child. The wolf scared me so bad. It eventually went away, after my final nightmare about it, when I was about six years old. And then I could listen to "The Three Little Pigs" with a fun little shiver, rather than the true terror I knew before it.

2) Jaws and Jaws 2. I'm not 100% percent sure which movie I saw first, so I'm just putting them together. These movies are on this list because I spent much of my youth terrified of deep water as a result of these movies. I once freaked out in a swimming pool because my imagination ran away with me, and I believed the shark from Jaws was after me. This lasted for years. Now, of course, I think Great White Sharks are the coolest fish ever. I've done a lot of studying of them. I would love to see one in real life, though I would rather not be bitten by one. Their bite radius is a bit much, even for a gentle test bite.

3) Dracula. I think I saw this movie when I was about nine or ten. And yes, I'm talking about the black and white, 1931, Bela Lugosi film. It might be a bit silly and cheesy to modern audiences, but by the time I saw it, I hadn't seen all that many horror movies yet. This movie scared the living daylights out of me. I got into the habit of pulling the sheet over my head. In my mind, that would somehow keep the vampire from sucking my blood, since he couldn't get to my neck. Of course, now I love vampires, especially scary vampires of the variety of Dracula or 30 Days of Night

4) Ghost and Mr. Chicken. Gods, I feel stupid putting this one on the list. This movie is a really cheesy Don Knotts film from 1966. It's also a comedy film. But I had a really bad nightmare as a child that I can still remember. The movie does involve a human killer. In my dream, he said he would kill the first person who made a sound. I, of course, peeped. He slowly walked over to me, and was about to slam something on my head when I woke up. I have never forgotten this dream, since it kept me up for the rest of the night.

5)Halloween and Halloween 2. These two are the only ones of the big slasher film franchises to give me nightmares. Michael Myers is the only one of the major slasher killers to chase me in my dreams. I think a lot of this has to do with where I was when I saw these films. For most horror movies I've seen, I've been able to go home and sleep in my own bed. But for these two, I was on vacation. I saw the first one in Atlanta, GA, and the second one in Phoenix, AZ, each time visiting relatives. I think that's why I had the nightmares. They came from not being in my safe place when I saw them.

6) The Grudge. By the time I saw this movie, I was looking for the "scariest movie ever." I'd seen all the classics by that point Exorcist, Psycho, Rosemary's Baby, Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween. But none of them had given me the "true" scare I was looking for. I wanted to know what it was like to get the shit scared out of me by a movie. My mom and I went to see this one in theaters. It was late at night. After the movie was over, I asked my mom if I could sleep in her room. (I was in college.) She allowed it. After I went back to college, I didn't sleep for a week after seeing this movie. It scared me so bad. I quit looking for the scariest film after that.

7) The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Of course, I wasn't counting on this film coming into my life. I watched this movie late at night when it was on Starz. I was the only one awake. This movie terrified me. It got into my bones and into my mind in a way that none of the other scary movies I'd ever seen had. It's atmosphere-heavy, and incredibly well-written. You're never quite sure of what's real and what's not. Jennifer Carpenter gave an amazing performance as Emily Rose. I highly recommend this movie, though I never want to see it again. To this day, if I am still awake at 3 a.m., I will stay awake until 4 a.m. because of this movie.

So there it is, the films that have scared me the most in my life. Since fear is so subjective, I thought it would be interesting to write about it.
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Dec. 26th, 2016

Charmed sisters

Christmas, Christmas

Busy, busy Christmastime. On Christmas Eve, I worked for about six hours before going home. Then hubby and I got our stuff together to go to his parents' house for dinner. It was a fun evening of dinner, conversation, and presents. We face-timed his sister (who is currently in Vegas) while we were opening presents. My mother-in-law gave me the gift of writing. I am now a proud member of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers and I own Scrivener. :-) Hubby got a really nice drill and some great drill bits, which he will be able to use once he becomes an electrician. Which is utterly awesome. It was a fun, though very late night.

Christmas Day, we got up early to go to my parents' house. We opened gifts with them. My parents got us a very nice comforter. It is a light gray-purple in color, with flounces. It looks really old-fashioned, but isn't too girly. It is so soft. The kitties, especially Craven, loved it. After opening presents there, we went to one of my aunt's, for Christmas dinner. The food was utterly delicious. I ate *way* too much, and probably gained about thirty thousand pounds. But it was worth it! After dinner, we played Cards Against Humanity and a new game that hubby's sister got us called Joking Hazard. Both games are played similarly, with one judge who plays one card, then judges whose card they like the best. Lots of laughter, to the point where hubby very nearly lost his voice, lol. It was a fun, but very tiring day.

I also got a bit of a Christmas miracle, though it was a bit of a two-edged sword. About a month ago, I went to the OB/GYN about possible infertility problems. I have very infrequent periods, and hadn't had one since late August. Since hubby and I are trying to jump on this crazy baby boom happening next year (seriously, I just found out about two more women on facebook that are having babies next year O_O) I thought it was worth looking into for some help, with some pushing from Neptune and Mercury. The doctor put me on natural progesterone, which I was to take to try to force my body into having a period. I took it faithfully. Then waited. And waited. And waited. After I still hadn't gotten one on Friday, I was like, crap, I'm going to need to call the doctor on Tuesday (I assumed they wouldn't be open today), and find out what was going on. It made me even more depressed, especially since my hormones have been all over the place the last two weeks, so I knew there was some kind of weird chemical cocktail going on in my body. Then on Saturday, while at work, I finally, *finally* saw blood. Thank you, to all the fertility gods and goddesses. So now, after day 20, 21, or 22, I can go in to get my blood drawn for all the tests the doctor needs to do, and then we can be on our way. Hopefully, by this time next year, I will have a bouncing baby Ellie or Gabriel. :-)
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Dec. 20th, 2016

Dreamer

Party Time

Friday night was my work holiday party. It was a lot of fun. We did a potluck, where everyone brought something. One of the MHT's brought delicious, delicious chicken wings that were *amazing*. We all brought gifts for a white elephant exchange. I brought a bottle of pink Moscato wine, and a set of sombrero shot glasses. They were a hit, lol. Hubby and I ended up with a Snickers mug and a stuffed moose with a Target gift card. Then we sang Chrismas carols. In fact, one of the PSTs and her husband tried to leave early, and one of the other PSTs made them sing before they could go. I laughed a lot that night. One of the other PSTs pulled out a ukulele, and we all sang "I Want a Hippotamus for Christmas."

Saturday night was my big friend Christmas party. God, it was freezing that day. And we were running around like crazy. We went to see Star Wars: Rogue One, then ran a couple of errands before the party, and drove to the party. It was a crazy day. I was exhausted before we even got to the party. ^_^; But it was still fun. We all brought presents for one another, and the party was held at Saturn's house. They made taco soup and lasagna (for me and one of their other roommates who can't eat spicy either.) We had mulled cider and several different kinds of wine. I tried a very nice white wine. It was fun, just hanging out. Plus I got baby time with Neptune's wee one. :-) She is so cute! She liked playing pony ride, where you bounce her on your knees. She thought that was the funniest thing ever, lol. We opened presents. I got a really pretty pink and white scarf, a Sailor Moon bow, some doll clothes (including an adorable pair of stockings with kitties on them!) some gift cards, a homemade doll rosary, and an IOU for a pair of angel wings for my doll. (My friends and I are into the BJD hobby from Asia. It stands for Ball-Jointed Dolls. These things are freakin' gorgeous! They're also really customizable, where you can choose skin color, make-up color, eye color, get wigs, clothing, accessories, etc for them. In fact, two people could get the same doll model, and end up with a completely different doll.) After the boys finished divvying up Magic cards (their Christmas present), the party kind of wound down. Hubby and I left, because, as was stated in my posts yesterday, I wasn't really feeling mentally well.

Sunday afternoon was my grandma's 80th birthday party. She's so funny. She couldn't believe that we were doing all that just for her. And everyone was there: both her daughters, her son, their spouses, and all of her grandchildren and their spouses. As I said earlier, I got more baby time with my cousin B, who is a cuddly bear. They ended up watching the Patriots vs Broncos game, which I was *not* happy with. (Football, ugh!) But I always enjoy spending time with my family, especially my mom and brother. I also had a nice conversation with my aunt about infertility. She struggled with it too, and ultimately ended up not being able to have kids. So there really is no one better to talk to about it. She understands in a way that no one else does. It was a nice night, though I struggled. Honestly, I struggled through all of the parties this weekend. For one thing, three parties is not easy when you're an introvert, even when you enjoy the company. Which I do. There wasn't a single time this weekend where I dreaded going to the parties, since I love my co-workers, my friends, and my family. It's just hard, especially when I know there is something wrong with my body, in particularly my brain.

Overall, though, the weekend was good. 
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Dec. 19th, 2016

Pout

Spoilers

Since Star Wars: Rogue One, I have once again seen memes make the rounds to the effect of, "if you spoil this movie for me, I'll kill you." One of my Facebook friends just posted an angry post about not posting "fucking spoilers." I'm like, why so much anger? Would it really destroy your life if someone spoiled a movie, a television show, or a book for you? I understand that fiction can be an intensely personal thing, which makes people take things far more seriously than they should. I know that people are better equipped to deal with huge tragedies than they are for minor disappointments. But that's still no excuse. People get downright mean about not getting spoilers. I've gotten snapped at by people for accidentally spoiling things for them. Well, I might have "ruined" it for them, but they managed to ruin the experience for me too. Because it has dimmed down my excitement, not just for that particular movie, but for all movies and television shows. I don't want to talk about them with people for the most part, whether they care about spoilers or not.

The thing that really kills me about the whole thing, though, is the strange double standard. People who are anti-spoilers, for whose enjoyment of whatever it is relies solely on being able to be surprised, will then turn around and be complete pricks about it with people who are either indifferent to spoilers or whose enjoyment actually *depends* on spoilers. I'm one of the latter people. My enjoyment of Game of Thrones depended entirely on whether or not a certain awful character died. I needed to know. But if I had asked one of the anti-spoiler people, they would have refused to tell me. I know on the one hand, they think it's fair because they don't want spoilers, so they aren't going to give away spoilers. But what they're really doing is forcing their ways onto someone else. If I ask for spoilers, then I know what I'm getting into. If I ask for spoilers, then I have decided that I need to know those spoilers to decide whether or not I'm going to waste my time or money on it. But I have had people absolutely refuse to tell me, which is just as asshole a thing to do to someone as giving someone spoilers when they ask you not to. And guess what? I never saw the thing I asked for spoilers on, because I got such a bad taste in my mouth from talking to those people. As I said, they effectively ruined things for me as thoroughly as if I was one of those people who was anti-spoilers, and got a spoiler.

A fair question to ask in every single conversation about modern pop culture, especially shows and movies that are new, is simply to ask, "Do you care about spoilers?" If they do, then you know to adapt what you are going to say, to be careful not to reveal any plot points. If they don't, then feel free to reveal whatever you want. And remember that if you're a person who is anti-spoiler, be kind to those who aren't. If they ask you for spoilers, you can clarify by asking, "Are you sure you want to know?" If they say yes, then, please, tell them. If it's a huge twist ending to the film that you aren't comfortable revealing, then tell them that too. I understand getting spoilers with movies like Sixth Sense and Cabin in the Woods would probably have ruined them, no matter who you are, but most movies aren't like that.

And yes, for all my ranting, here, there are some movies I don't want spoilers for. BUT when a movie like that comes along, I make sure to tell people that this movie or tv show is the exception to the rule, and I don't want to know. However, these are the exceptions to the rule for me. And the rule is, I'm usually either completely indifferent to spoilers because I don't care about enough about whatever it is to want to watch it, or I want to know how things end, because I will spend the entire movie or tv show in a state of anxiety while watching things unfold, which ruins my enjoyment.
Pain

Yes, a second entry

In addition to my feelings of annoyance and isolation, I feel like my hormones are all over the place. Even being with friends and family is *not* helping at all. I was on natural progesterone for twelve days, in order to force my body to have a period. It still has not worked. My body is still period-free. But my hormones are dragging me down into the very depths of despair. The smallest, even implied, criticism is enough to send me spiraling. I get angry to fight back, but really, it's my own mind I'm fighting. I feel literally sick all the time, but it's not an illness that I think anyone can see. I just don't feel right. I'm exhausted, unable to sleep, with nauseau and a strange cough, though the cough might just be because of the cold air. Saturday night, we went to our friend's holiday party, and I had to fight to keep depression from getting the better of me. I usually don't have to do that around my friends. But that day, I did. Yesterday, my aunt held a party for my grandma's 80th birthday party. I was glad to be there, because I love my grandma, and I got to spend time with my little one year old cousin, who would come to me, and let me hold him. But otherwise, I had to fight myself to have a good time. I couldn't wait to go home. It might partly because I was surrounded by people all weekend. It was too much for me. I needed some time to myself, and I really didn't get it.

Right now, I feel like my mind is in a fog, where doing or thinking anything is really difficult. Just being at work, which I normally love, is hard. So it's been rough.
Alone

Mad Max: Fury Road vs Star Wars: Rogue One

Mad Max: Fury Road isn't exactly brand new anymore, but I hadn't posted here for a long time when it came out. Although I did consider writing an entry on it, I didn't get around to it. But this movie has come to represent a lot more to me than it really deserves.

One major thing this movie represents is a chasm between me and a lot of my friends. Several of them *love* this movie, and think it is the best thing ever made. I don't see it. I truly don't. Because they praise the hell out of this movie, and then movies that I do like, they slam like they're the worst thing ever. I don't get it. Mad Max: Fury Road is not *THAT* good of a movie. It's really not. It's not a terrible movie by any means. But it's not the bestest thing since sliced bread either.

For one thing, the first twenty minutes of this movie are *BORING*. Maybe it's because I didn't see it in theaters, but all of the high-octane action sequences in the beginning did nothing for me. I genuinely didn't care. They didn't give any reason to care about "Max," especially since there was a lot to indicate that this character is *not* the Max we've spent the last three films with. Then we get this weird introduction to the villains, and to our real protagonist, Furiosa. The problem is that the entire introduction is muddled. It's a lot of visuals sure, but visuals without much, if any, context. The movie didn't give me any reason to care. I was getting more and more annoyed watching the film, because it felt like a complete waste of my time. I only stuck through it because I love my husband.

The movie did not get going until it finally slowed the fuck down when Max and his jailer, Nux, caught up with Furiosa and the brides. Then and only then did I start caring. The movie gave me reasons to care, with character introduction, development, and stakes for the plot. If the movie had started here, I would have been much happier. The rest of the film was an okay action movie. I did like the way the women were written in this film. Even the brides, who were *not* the warrior types, still tried to fight to the best of their abilities. It was refreshing. Nux had the best character arc in the film, from villanious lackey to tragic hero. The arc was natural from what he experienced in the film.

But ultimately, where everyone else saw "one of the best movies of 2015," I saw an overrated, over-hyped popcorn action film. Yes, the cinematic side of it was really good. There were some fabulous and insane visuals. Yes, it is cool that they went for physical special effects rather than CGI. But it has always been my opinion that the ultimate goal of movies and television shows is to tell a good story. All of the best cinematic wizardry in the world does not make up for a bad story, in my opinion. (I am looking at you,The Shining. And of course, everyone remembers the lesson of Star Wars: the Phantom Menace.) And it's the plot where Mad Max falls down. For one thing, I do not consider the film a Mad Max film at all. In tone, it might follow all of the other movies, but it's not just the tone that I consider when I think of a Mad Max movie. The major thing I consider is that the main character of the film is supposed to be, well, MAX! And in this movie, he was not the main character; he was simply an extra with a name and some lines. But if you changed his name to something else, there is no way in hell anyone would have realized that was supposed to be Mad Max from the previous three movies. I find that a problem. (I know there are excuses for it: well, the producers got more interested in writing about Furiosa, but they didn't think anyone would come see it, blah blah blah. I don't care. You labeled your movie as a Mad Max movie, but made Max an urecognizable character, and essentially gave him almost no influence on the plot at all.) For another, the early action scenes were boring as hell! I get so annoyed every time I think about the time I wasted with the first twenty minutes. Those minutes were not epic. They were not cool. They were boring. I got a weird flashback watching the movie, from the first time I watched Friday the 13th, the first one. I spent that entire movie bored out of my mind. I didn't care about any of the characters. People were getting slaughtered left, right, and center, and I didn't give a damn, because I was never given any reason to care about the characters, other than they were teenagers? I guess? The plot did not show up until the last twenty minutes of the film. It literally felt like the filmmakers were almost finished making the film, and realized, oops! They forgot to put in the plot. The last twenty minutes of that film were pretty good, with the cat and mouse game between Mrs. Voorhees and the heroine. But it didn't make up for the rest of the film. The same thing applies to Mad Max: Fury Road. The movie may have gotten better, but it doesn't make up for the annoyance of the first twenty minutes.

And this is where things come to a head. Once again, I feel isolated. I feel like I'm completely missing something the rest of the world saw. It's something I've felt for most of my life, where the rest of the world praises the hell out of something, and I'm like, I don't get it. It goes double when those people are my friends.

This leads me to Star Wars: Rogue One. This same group of people that praised the hell out of Mad Max: Fury Road apparently *hated* Star Wars: Rogue One. Because it was "too dark." And the end "didn't make sense." (And to be fair, there is a part at the end where even I went, what?) But otherwise, I thought the film did a great job of introducing shades of gray to the Star Wars universe. The characters were compelling, and given enough quiet moments to allow me to get to know them, like them, and care about their actions in the film. The editing of the film was tight. I was never bored. I honestly don't get it. So this Star Wars movie was darker than the rest...yet I'm sorry, but the film considered the best of the bunch, The Empire Strikes Back, is a downer. There is very little victory in that film, especially at the end. So...yeah.

Anyway, I just needed to rant.

Dec. 13th, 2016

Depressed

Year of the Baby

Next year seems to be the year of the baby. Neptune's pregnant with her second, another girl. Mercury's pregnant with her first; still don't know what it is yet, since the baby wouldn't quit wiggling. Two other aquaintances are pregnant as well. A woman I worked with at Barnes and Noble is pregnant. One of my current co-workers is pregnant. A co-worker of Neptune's is pregnant. Several of the women I see come into the library talk about being pregnant and clearly are pregnant. Babies, babies everywhere...except for me.

My feelings are so mixed up right now, it's crazy. On the one hand, I'm happy for everyone. After all, it's an exciting thing to have a baby, especially if you want one. On the other hand, why is the universe being so shitty as to ensure that I'm not yet? Now, yes, hubby and I have only been trying since June. But I'm worried. *Very* worried. My periods have never been what you would call regular. I went to the OB/GYN for help, since I'm desperate. I haven't had a period since August. The doctor gave me a round of progesterone that was supposed to get my body to have a period. I finished it two days ago. Still no period. I'm honestly beginning to think that there is no baby in my future. Ever. Which makes seeing so many people around me be pregnant feel like my heart is being dipped in acid every single time. I'm seriously angry at the universe for this.

I have wanted to be a mother ever since I was a little girl. Probably ever since they put my baby brother in my arms at the age of two and a half. But it's beginning to feel more and more like it's never going to happen. I'm 33 years old. I know, people keep telling me, I'm young. But what people are forgetting is that it takes almost a year to have the kid. Every year that passes is one more year wasted.

At this point, I'm starting to wish I didn't want children. Then I wouldn't hurt so much.

I feel like I'm completely alone. When I try to talk to my mom about it, it's the one time in my life my mom completely shuts me down. I know why. It's because she can't handle my pain.

Hubby doesn't realize it, but even he shuts me down. Sometimes, I have to say the worst in order to accept it. I have to believe that the worst will happen, so that I'm prepared for it. That way, when anything other than the worst happens, I'm surprised. But that way, hope can't rip me to shreds the way it's been doing for the last six months. And I feel like I genuinely can't talk to anyone about it. Some of my friends are single. Several don't want kids at all. Ever. For any reason. Which is fine, but it also means that they will not understand the struggle I'm going through. Every month that passes lately without the appearance of my period or any indication of a child is one more month of being thrown into depression.

People tell me I just need to relax. I want to tell those people to fuck off. Like how does one do that? Relax? And just forget that one of the dreams of my heart may not ever happen? Yeah, right. Especially telling that to someone who lives with DEPRESSION and ANXIETY on a daily basis. Seriously. I take medication for it. And the main person telling me that? Yeah, is my mom. Who should know better.

Neptune and Mercury have been trying to help. Mercury particularly pestered me to go see an OB/GYN for help, to get tested to see if I might be polycistic. Which I probably am. Neptune has tried telling all of the stuff I could be doing to help. But for one, it's a lot of work. I'm sorry, but part of me is thinking that making the baby should be the *easy* part, not the hard work part.

I know life isn't fair. But there are girls and women getting pregnant every single day without having to go through what I am. If I had to have these sorts of problems, why the hell wasn't I born to be one of the women who didn't want children? Then there would be no problem. Everything would be lined up the way it's supposed to be. My desires would be lined up with my body's capabilities.

Yes, I know people also bring up adoption. That is even more hoops to jump through than normal pregnancy. It's thousands of dollars at the outset for the kid. Plus you have to prove you are absolutely the most perfectest parents in the world in order for the foster system to even let you take the child. I am not a perfect person, far from. I don't believe adoption is any more of an option for me than normal fertility.

I know I'm talking to the ether and the void, but I just needed to get my feelings out. An event particularly pulled these feelings out of me. And with no sign that my period is coming, I just needed to vent, even if it is into nothing and nowhere. 
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