… equipped with laptop, blog, camera and her sense of Wonder, a perpetual goddess wanders aimfully on …

I feel like I am about to explode. I jumped through hoops to get my mom some money today, twice as much as she originally demanded that I give her, and guess what? It wasn’t good enough. Then she tells me that she doesn’t need the money after all. I remember grabbing all of my CDs off the shelf. I considered going to the basement and getting the boxes of Dennis’ unsold CDs and then I reconsidered, since I don’t think I could explain why I had hundreds of copies of the same CD. I tossed almost all of my CD collection into bags and took them down to Vintage Stock and sold them for over $100. And it wasn’t good enough. I sold my Julian Lennon CDs! I liked my Julian Lennon CDs! I had been working on that collection since 1990. Twenty years. I sold Ozzy Osbourne CDs. Sting. Marilyn Manson. Greatest Hits. Savage Garden. Tony Danza. Oasis. Foo Fighters. Pink Floyd. Many of those CDs I remember buying. Some within the last ten years. They’re all gone now. I can’t get them back, and that money isn’t good enough for her.

I remember telling Dennis that I was going out. I had to go to the store. He was playing with Chloe in the living room and volunteered to go with me. I said no too quickly. I just blurted it out. I know he wondered what was going on, but there was no way that I could tell him. How can I tell anyone face to face that I am being bullied by my own mother?

I wish I lived somewhere far away from here. There are many times when I just want to pack up my things and my family and go. Never return. Leave no forwarding address. They’d only miss my money. They wouldn’t miss me as a person.

This is why I’m depressed. THIS.

…and I’m off for Spring Break!! Woo Hoo! No classes for ten whole days!

Tomorrow is mid-terms. Wish me good luck. I’m gonna need it.

Probably out of hearing Dennis and I do it, Chloe has started calling my father-in-law (her grandfather), “Dad”. It’s embarrassing when we go out because he’s 73 and she calls me “momma” and, well, I get the “gold-digger” looks from strangers. Not that what they think matters, unless one of them is a social worker. Still, I’m ok with it for now. How much can a four-year-old understand about family role models when we confuse her with our background conversations?

As long as she doesn’t start calling Dennis “dumb fuck”, mocking her grandfather, I’m not going to correct her yet.

When I got my new laptop, I noticed that it had the entire Adobe CS3 programs on it:

Someone told me that I no longer need ImageReady, as Photoshop CS3 has animation features built in. Anyone know if this is true? Is it as good as the ImageReady animations? I want to try it out, as this is the software the band uses to update their website, but I don’t want to get in another mess with these Apple laptops. The last time I edited anything on the hard-drive, the computer’s motherboard malfunctioned, and I had to take it in for repairs. Advice? Reassurance?

No worries though. I have no motivation to open Photoshop and make pretty digital art. I’m not artistic at all. I always have ideas for a kewl website, and then I never follow through with them. I have hundreds of fonts that I was going to make things with that are sitting on FontBook, unopened and unused. That was okay until I started buying fonts. When I started wasting money on this, I had to pull the plug. I almost look at it like it’s a treadmill or something. I don’t want to create, but I hate what I have. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, particularly since any sane person would try to change what they could. I don’t. I just watch the stuff pile up. I do, however, use the Sims 2 stuff that I download. Does that count for anything?

Had another low blood sugar today.

There’s getting to be less and less that I can do during these. This time it came on suddenly while I was chatting with my friend James on a webcam community, and I told him I needed to go lie down for a while. He called me not more than ten minutes later because he said I didn’t look right to him. It was a good thing he did. My glucose level was 40 and dropping. I ate for several minutes and it was only in the 80s. I tried to call my doctor about this, but as I have told several of you, I am scared of what he might do when I refuse the diabetes medications.

I have a blood test on Thursday. One of these tests is to see if I am taking all of my medication as prescribed. If I am not, my doctor threatens me with being committed to a mental hospital. He scared me once, telling me that I’d lose my family, my schooling, my home. He said when I would eventually be released, I would be broke and homeless. It scared me into regularly taking these medications.

What annoys me is that I ate breakfast. Scrambled eggs, an omelette, and a few potato crisps after. I didn’t over exercise. I simply went to class, came home, and washed a load of laundry because none of my shirts were clean and I had to wear the same shirt I wore yesterday. Thank God it was a plain white shirt, so no one really noticed. After I put the laundry in to wash, I was chatting with my friend James about various things, when I started feeling bad. I said I was feeling dizzy and needed to go lay down. I’m glad he called. Dennis was able to bring me some candy to jump start the glucose levels.

This is the part where I’m going to express hatred for my doctor. He’s obsessed with morbid obesity, diabetes, gastric bypass, and pregnancy. Every time I visit his office, he lectures me on one of those four things, no matter what I am there for. “Oh, you fell down the stairs and hurt your leg? If you’s get gastric bypass, you wouldn’t fall down stairs anymore!” It’s getting to the point where if there was any other doctor taking new patients in even Tulsa, I’d go there. I’d switch doctors. Of course he’d put in my file that I’m doctor shopping for narcotics. [sarcasm]Cuz’ I hit him up for them every chance I get![/sarcasm]

I’m off to finish my homework. Smile. It makes people wonder what you’re thinking!

I’m getting somewhat close (ok, in the ballpark) to my 500th comment. So I have a little contest. Whoever makes the 500th comment on this blog will get 500 Entrecard credits, and when I get my blogroll going, they will be the first link on there. To make things interesting, I’m not going to say how close or far away I am from that 500th comment, so if you want to win, you probably should comment every day. Comments that say things like “nice layout” or whatnot are not counted and they’ll be deleted, unapproved.

So…

What are you waiting for?? Get commenting!

I have some pictures I want to post when I get home. Have fun everyone.

While I was helping re-program Dennis’ phone tonight (we found his old phone from 2003 and we’re putting his contacts that still work over to the new one), I got chatting up with his guitarist. I remember I mentioned that I was glad that this cell phone number leak wasn’t my fault. I’ve done some stupid things in my life, but I would never give out others’ private cell phone numbers online. The guitarist commented on that. “Just be careful who you’re friends with online. Those people aren’t your friends, you know.” That last line has stuck with me for a while. Normally I don’t remember things like that so vividly, but this time, I have. I think about it when I think of things that have happened in the past. I think of it when I’m tying things in with what I’ve recently done. Like when one of the people who e-hates me and basically cuts down everything that I have said online got together with me on a message board, we were the best of friends. She had no idea who I was.

I wonder about the web sometimes. I try not to do it too often because more than not, it’s my window to the world. Stuck inside, with this medication rolling through me, I rarely have the opportunity to get out and do things, let alone go places. I frequently have to rest when I’m out and about. It just isn’t right. Then there are the days when I come across people who just want to make my life harder. I don’t understand their motives. Are they jealous of me? Jealous of the fact that I don’t have to get up every day and go to work or force my husband out the door? Are they jealous that he loves me and takes good care of me and our children? Are they jealous that he took care of himself enough so he has the funds to financially care for his family? I’d trade all our money to have good health. I’d trade all my possessions to be able to take a long walk with my kids. Some people think that you can only be rich if you have a lot of money or expensive things. That’s untrue. The true definition of being rich? To have a soul that shines. My soul can’t shine because of my weak body. I will shine one day, though. Maybe not today, but one day.