Mentally Unwell...

Feeling it.

The unwell.

It feels like it's been so long.

We're...so...um...No Words.

Sobbing.

Tweets of Life Poetic

Just something light, and humorous. Sorta. Ramble, really. Pure drivel.

It's not unusual for us to write 140 characters of poetry on Twitter, off the cuff, in the moment. We actually find that often it's some of our better works of poetry/prose. Frequently it's inspired by life, both the past and the present, and a triggered moment, feeling, or memory. It's never planned, no more than 99.9% of our other Tweets.

Somebody asked us today how long we were up last night writing a particular piece of prose/poetry we had just Tweeted.

There wasn't really a great way to reply, so we deleted what we had written. We've been thinking about it all day. We were actually a bit appalled that someone would think our Tweets that contrived.

If we write poetry when we're not on Twitter, it goes in a Word Document, and you've yet to see it until we feel it ready for our poetry blog. But if we're on Twitter, and the mood strikes, if inspiration falls into our lap, if our muse yanks our hair...it goes in a Tweet. Plus, we're always on Twitter, whether by mobile device or laptop; and do you know how long it takes our laptop to boot up and open a Word Document? Forget about it. All inspiration would be lost waiting for that.

It's a fun challenge, most of us think, to have a feeling, an emotion, or a memory, and some words, and a 140 character limit.

So, if you see our poetic Tweets. You're the first people to read those words. Later, we go back, and we copy them in a Word Document; and there they will stay until we can sew them together 140 characters (or less) at a time, and maybe one day make them better, together.

Closing The Deal!

The seller ink is dry on the purchase agreement, and we have a closing date of February 28th (or sooner, if the tenants vacate before then). Eight long months of looking, two failed bid attempts (one a "tragic" loss). This is the third property - three times a charm.

We'll be moving in a month.

We're paying less than half of what we sold our previous house for; and $30,000 less than most of the houses we have been viewing. It feels like a win.

So.

We're home owners, again (we really never wanted to try that again). This time with a man.

We own a house...with a man.

Shit just got real.

*rocks back and forth holding head*

"Anti-Medication" Explained

We got a message on Tumblr recently, because of the 'Ask Us Anything' option. (where is that, by the way, we can't find it...)

The question was to further explain what we mean by "anti-medication mental health advocates".

It took a little thought, what DO we mean by that...

We sent a nice little two sentence answer...but that, now, doesn't seem enough.

Basically it's a personal decision to try to learn how to manage our mental health issues as well as possible, with no medication. It's not the right decision for everyone.

Our experience with medication had always been either bad (lose off hair, required kidney function screening, sever insomnia, weight gain, loss of libido, constant exhaustion, and more), or good. So good in fact we were numb to how unhappy we were, we were willing to put up with anything. We were not able to deal with the deep issues we should have been dealing with. They were just shoved to the bottom so we didn't have to work through them, to face them, to learn and grow.

So in June 2011 we went off the last of our medications.

This, of course, is not a solution to everyone.
But neither is medication dependency.

The pharmaceutical industry has the United States by the balls. In most developed countries they are not even allowed to advertise on television, in fact, the only country other than the United States that direct-to-consumer advertisement is allowed in, is New Zealand.(1) In addition, deaths attributed to prescription medications are now topping those caused by traffic accidents.(2)

The pharmaceutical industry has a medication for everything. Every emotion, every thought, every twinge, every single issue you have...they are here to tell you, you need a medication for that, and they have one. They have a medication that will make you feel right as rain...but might make you have suicidal thoughts or tendencies, have uncontrollable bowel movements, get ulcers and die of internal bleeding, lower your immune system making your body unable to fight infection...the horrid lists of side-effect goes on and on. They also have layers of medication to prescribe you, one to bring you up, and then one to bring you a back down from taking the first one. A little tired and sad? They'll give you an upper for that. And then a downer to counter-act it.

They have anything you want, if you, or your insurance company, has the money, so...line their pockets, please.

And don't even get us started on media fear-tactics when it comes to colds, flu, and anything else they can exploit for ratings-sake.

Some people require medications to manage mental health, and other issues, obviously; but many people don't, are prescribed medications they don't need, and even wilfully abuse them; and sometimes medication is needed, but those people fall through the giant cracks of the health care system heavily lining the pockets of insurance companies, doctors and pharmaceutical companies. You're too poor, and they shove you in the crack.

Maybe another thing America needs is medication reform.

So, what's our view on medication?

Be smart. Don't be a victim of greed. Learn to understand what your brain and body needs. If you need medications, you need them; but don't let them be a crutch.

Sources and Citation:
(1) Direct-to-Consumer Advertising Under Fire, Bulletin of the World Health Organization,Volume 87, Number 8, August 2009, 565-64, http://www.who.int/bulletin/volumes/87/8/09-040809/en/index.html

(2) Prescription Drug Deaths Major Killer In The U.S., NPR, Talk of the Nation, September 27, 2011, http://www.npr.org/2011/09/27/140849083/prescription-drug-deaths-major-killer-in-the-u-s

Oh, What A Relief It Is: Deep Tissue Massage

After a year and a half we were finally able to get it together enough to find a massage therapist. Luckily the connection came through James' new job. She does house-calls too. And the price is beyond reasonable for the service (deep tissue massage).

While we prefer male masseuses, (it has to do with how deep, large, numerous, and hard the knots are - requiring considerable strength to maneuver), she was able to do some good work to start, and together we created a regiment to alleviate 75% of the pain over a six-to-eight week period. (it's understood it will never be all gone, but at least it can be managed a bit without OTC or prescription pain relievers)

Once again we're back on the table, just in time. It wasn't as bad as it was in winter (January to April) of 2011 yet, but some days and nights it was getting close in the same level of excruciating pain, with the perpetual headaches, tension, knots, head-to-toe body pain, sleepless nights tossing and turning. It only took about 45 minutes to the pain to start creeping back, but at least it was something.

So, there's hope...once again.

We're almost going to feel human again. Almost.

(P.S. still waiting for all the names of the sellers to be inked on the purchase agreement for the house *fingers crossed*)

Offer Accepted

The final offer we submitted on the house was accepted last night, we have e-mail confirmation of the acceptance from the seller's agent, with a minor contingency (we may have to move the close date, which was originally for the 11th of February, back because there are currently tenants in the house), but most of us are waiting to get really excited until the ink is dry, or there is ink.

We lost our dream property, Weeping Willow, this past fall after the ink was dry, and after we dumped cash into inspections, so we have grounds for being skeptical. James is hardly acknowledging it as good news. He tend to be very skeptical, and conservative with his happiness and excitement.

In the meantime, we're just ready to move out of The Mother's house. It's long past due. James has a good job now, and even though we're still looking for (another) part-time job we are confident we'll find something soon. We had an interview yesterday with an agency that will no doubt produce a position for us at some point.

Yay for moving ahead with life again!

Real Estate Hell

Two weeks ago we put an offer on a property outside the city. Finally we had found something local in our price range, after months of seeking in a state over, and getting screwed on a deal there. And then offering on one in town, and being outbid.

The first rejection of the offer came in within a couple of days. So we went at it with a slightly higher amount between the price we offered, and the price it was listed for. And then we waited...and waited...and our agent called the seller agent after a couple days and he said they were thinking about it...and then we waited...and waited...and on Saturday (a week after our second offer) our agent called the seller agent and he said "Oh, wow, thanks for reminding me!"...and then we waited...and waited...

Finally we told James to make our agent call him again tonight. And low and behold, there had been an e-mail today from the seller agent. No, the seller agent says, the sellers wants to stick for the asking price; and OH, there's someone else interested now. (after FIVE months on the market with no bites but ours, mind you, because it's already had a $25,000 price drop since it was first listed)

What. The. Fuck.

Turns out, in doing research, there could actually be no other offer, there's no way to hold an agent accountable for artificially creating a bidding war...unless you can prove it with an expensive lawsuit, of course.

So here we are, offering the full asking price, and who knows, maybe we'll get into a bidding war with a ghost.

Gun Violence In The Movies, For Dad

Source

Violence in movies, just like that of video games, has been beaten to death as being the catalyst of violence in society, particularly gun violence; but who doesn't know that.

Like mental illness, film is just another scapegoat for people who don't dare take personal or collective responsibility, just another name to throw under the bus; while statistically people with mental illness are four times more likely to be the victim of violence, than the perpetrator (1).

Rather than blame bad parenting (sometimes by bad people), lack of supervision, love, and attention, which fosters poor self-worth, poor self-esteem and leads to school yard bullying, and even being a victim of bullying; a general decrease in compassion and caring in society; and the increase of greed, poverty, hate, intolerance and anxieties in the nation, which trickles down to the youth; increasingly easy access to guns with very little real regulation from state to state and across the country; not to mention the glorification of war and violence in the world...but no, you're right, it's easier to blame Hollywood, and video games. It's the coward's way out.

So, why are we even addressing it then?

After a "light gun debate" with The Father the past Friday, we awoke today to the following message (we made a second Facebook account for extended family to keep in contact with us after Christmas, and don't check it often because it tends to cause anxiety):

We started to reply to the message, and thought: You know what. THIS is our blog entry. This is all we really have to say about it.

So, here you go, Dad. We're putting it here. This entry is your requested blog entry, what follows was our response. We'll just leave it here for you to read.

We could talk about gun violence in the movies...

Or maybe how we were watching a Looney Tunes cartoon from the 60's (that been syndicated over and over) staring Foghorn Leghorn on TV last Friday. He kept shooting the bill off of two ducks, and it would twist it around in a funny fashion. He tried to trick them into shooting each other in the face. Then tried to lock them in a TNT shed and "kill them", yet they never bled or died. Sure is funny, violence that doesn't produce blood, hey? Never too early to start them on the humour of guns and violence, is it.



Oh, don't be silly. (we can hear you, Dad)

It's just as logical; or are you saying a child is smart enough to tell the difference between cartoon violence and real violence, but an adult is not smart enough to respect the difference between graphic movie/video violence and real violence - and that now all of sudden that's the problem.

...Or we could write about the violence in the Bible, and how killing people who simply didn't believe in the same God were glorified by being considered righteous for doing so. Violence as "old as time itself". And even after that, in the Crusades.

...Or mass genocide and violence in ALL of History, including and not limited to the "settlement" of the United States.

...Or compare the exposure to violent video games and violent movies in every other developed country, and juxtapose their violent gun crimes to the USA; where, according to FBI statics on violent deaths in the USA, guns are responsible for more homicides than all other means of killing people combined. And in some states, up to 75%. (FBI Uniform Crime Reports - 2011: http://www.fbi.gov/about-us/cjis/ucr/crime-in-the-u.s/2011/crime-in-the-u.s.-2011/tables/table-20)

You know who else glorifies guns and violence? America, government and the media.

(...as an afterthought...)

Or we could just say: I'm (we're) part of the problem, you're part of the problem, the population of the world is part of the problem - and it's not sin (as you are fond of saying, Dad), the concept of sin isn't new. There is just as much sin now, there are just more people. The problem is people only caring about themselves, it's the lack of compassion for other people and their lives, it's people only watching out for themselves the "screw everyone else, I'm getting mine" attitude - being so self-absorbed, so wrapped up in ones own needs, that they put the needs (and safety) of others, below their own.

</end FB message>

Source

That's our opinion, of course, and our decision to take a little responsibility, being a member of this society, being part of the problem; just like some people choose to blame movies, and video games (and "they" used to blame music too) is the opinion and decision of people who shirk responsibility.

Our stance on guns isn't secret.
We're pro-gun.
We also tend to be pro-responsibility; and for us, responsibility triumphs.

There needs to be regulation, the Constitution says so; and not just regulation, but regulation done well. Of course the Supreme Court ruled to change the meanings/interpretations of the words 'regulated' and 'militia' (2)(3)(4), to better the agenda of the NRA. And we could fight all day, every day to the grave, arguing about what it really means.
So we digress.

There is no question in a rational persons mind that there should be regulation. Why shouldn't there be? Cars are regulated by speed limit and traffic laws; Knives and blades are regulated by type and length of blade, and some of the laws are absurd. For Example, the crime of simply carrying a box cutter, in the State of Virginia, is punishable by a year in jail and a $2,500 fine(5) (see notation in resources). The laws vary from state-to-state; Drugs are regulated, prescription vs. non-prescription, alcohol, tobacco - and in growing variation from state-to-state. All most people want is a little rationality.

Back to the point.

It's not Hollywood, it's not video games...it's not Foghorn Leghorn, it's not Bugs Bunny (maybe Yosemite Sam a little though *winks*).

Source

It's society, it's you, it's me, it's your neighbour. It's life.

(P.S. Love you Daddy)

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More Entries We've Written on Guns....
An Afternoon Ditty on Gun Control
http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2013/01/an-afternoon-ditty-on-gun-control.html
A Mental Illness Rant
http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/12/a-mental-illness-rant.html
Guns, Guns, and Freedomhttp://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/07/guns-guns-gunsand-freedom_20.html
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Sources and Citation for this entry:
(1) Mentally ill 'at high risk of being victim of violence, BBC Health, February 27, 2012 http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-17182626(2) Supreme Court to Define ‘Well Regulated Militia’?, factcheck.org, December 20, 2007, http://www.factcheck.org/2007/12/supreme-court-to-define-well-regulated-militia/
(3) United States: Gun Ownership and the Supreme Court - Library of Congress, August 8, 2012, http://loc.gov/law/help/second-amendment.php

(4) So You Think You Know The Second Amendment, Jeffrey Toobin, The New Yorker, December 18, 2012, http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/comment/2012/12/jeffrey-toobin-second-amendment.html

(5) End knife control: Virginia’s vague concealed-weapon statute needs reform, Editorial, The Washington Times, May 22, 2012 http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2012/may/22/end-knife-control/ ( '08 Senate Bill 379 that purposed an amendment to VA State code §18.2-308(A) and ultimaltey failed at specifically adding box cutters to the list of unlawful blade)

Messy Head

Today wasn't good. We went to the gym and had a nice 50 minute cardio-workout, but only because we felt the need for a new bottle of Gin (we hate to run out), and the gym is right next door to the liquor store. And we didn't need to hear the bitching from within, if we left the house and didn't work out. So it was really a case of having to workout.

It's been days of physical pain now, the intensity varies. Some of our day just meant laying still, eyes closed. It's fine, really. It's not a big deal, this many years with this pain, it just IS. (Dad, you don't need to scare us with saying we're not too young for heart problems) We don't want to worry about that, we've already had a couple of days of mild anxiety attacks without even considering those kinds of health issues. We've even decreased our coffee intake a bit. We've never had a problem with blood pressure. It's actually textbook perfect. But lately it feels heart-pounding and breathtaking.

We're still waiting to hear about the house offer. They are really dragging their feet. It's causing some anxious feelings.

People "keep" coming to us for advice, and sometimes just because they want us to read their blogs, or want our attention...maybe even validation...and we don't read DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) blogs. Or they think we can help them. We can't help anybody, people can read what we write and find help, if it helps them, but we're not here to specifically help people. This is OUR therapy. Respect it. If you find something that helps you, that's great, but please don't try to seek help from us.

We're just feeling all messy, and *waves hands randomly in slow motion* blarg, and it's hard to concentrate; and apparently the cat keeps licking the toothbrushes.

~ some of the et al

Burning Pain...

Since mid-day the pain has burned, in the left shoulder, spread over the shoulder, up into the neck; but so much in the shoulder. There's one spot, it's probably the size of a stamp, but it feels like a giant hot stinging bonfire.

We've whimpered, held back tears, put on the brave face. Gritted our teeth.

It's the inside of the yellow part today. Many days it includes the red square too. We're luck, there is no red today, but for what it lacks in red, it makes up in yellow.

There must be some weather changes afoot...or maybe our body hates us. Any option is plausible.

In any case, we could go for some other kind of distracting physical pain right about now...

An Afternoon Ditty On Gun Control

There was a time anybody who wanted to could drive a car, no age limit - then you had to get a license, and they imposed speed limits, rules and regulation to make driving safe for everyone.

There was a time anybody could smoke cigarettes, no matter the age. Then they learned about health risks associated with smoking, and regulated it so only people over a certain age could buy/smoke them.
Then they learned about harmful second-hand smoke is, and regulated where you could smoke them.

There was a time when drugs like cocaine was put into Coca Cola, and most manor of drugs (the non-alcohol, non-nicotine, non-caffeine type) were legal to use - Then they learned of risks associated with using them...mostly to the person using them of course. So they outlawed them. (but now in some states regulate marijuana)

There was a time anybody, at any age, could drink alcohol...then came prohibition, and when that was over, tighter regulation.

Many of those things are dangerous if misused/overused/abused, to the person using it, and often to people around them, in a variety of ways.

That doesn't mean the people abusing these substances are mentally ill, does it?

Sure, these rules/regulations are broken everyday by irresponsible people and children, because "bad people will do bad things anyway, so it won't help", but that has never meant we, as a society, refused to regulate them.

That doesn't mean we should make access to purchase, and use them, easier.

As a matter of fact over history better regulation (and awareness) has reduced the issues associated with them.

Now, let's talk about gun regulation, and why we don't need it...?

More from us on Guns...
A Mental Illness Rant: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/12/a-mental-illness-rant.html
Guns, Guns, and Freedom: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/07/guns-guns-gunsand-freedom_20.html

Not An Exciting Entry

It felt like a long weekend.
James worked a bit on Saturday, then we put in counter offer to the house we're trying to buy.
Then it was a lot of...nothingness.

It feels like it took a long time to get to today.

Tonight we're going to test drive a "new" vehicle. A 4x4, because the car we are currently driving (a '98 Mercury Mystique) is not reliable on the interstate in the winter. The steering is loose, it's got some minor operating issues, and the tires, while new, have to have air added to them every three days; ultimately we don't feel safe on the interstate with it. Since the town where we plan to buy a house is nearly 40 miles south on the interstate...well..it seems logical to get a vehicle that makes us feel safe.

So we're looking at the make and model of the kind that we were in the car accident with back in '04, that pretty much saved our life, even without air-bags. We're hoping it is as good as it sounds on paper, if only because the drive is over an hour, and we will likely be coming back in the dark. We do NOT do well on the interstate, especially in the winter, and at night. We're getting better though, nearly 8 years later. We'd probably have no worries at all anymore, if we didn't have a daily reminder (pain) of how unexpected things can happen at high speeds, when you're feel safe.

Not an exciting entry (for you, anyway), but...let's call it a warm up exercise for this week.

Late Night...

If anything, the best thing about moving out will be not feeling like we're an imposition.
We can't sit in the basement all night. When we do it on the weekends it makes our back hurt, which makes us not able to sleep, which makes the weekend even worse. Tomorrow marks the two days of the week where we are relinquished to the cold basement, to sit in bed, for two days.

It's not perfect. We don't expect it to be. It will never be. We're lucky we have a place to live.

Maybe it's our own problem, that we feel like we shouldn't be sitting on this sofa, knowing they will never ask us to go to our room. The Mother will sleep. The Stepdad to his man-cave. (it's warmer out there anyway)...

It doesn't change the fact that we feel like we shouldn't be here, not wanting to be here. Just needing to be...somewhere else.

They walk in the door after a sport event they attended. It's Friday night. They ask if we' e talked to our Realtor. They left well after 7pm. Even if we did, what would have happened by now? It's just passive-aggressive behaviour, meant to make us feel...lord knows what they are trying to make us feel. We're feeling everything.

Like they think if we had a choice we'd still be here.

We're dying inside with no options.

Just more fun...

Eating Habits...

This will just make you angry, James. So don't read it.

Smurfs.

No, seriously...don't.

If you are reading THIS sentence, then just know, if you get upset, and we have a fight...you will push many buttons. If you sulk, because you didn't take our advice, and refuse to let us know why you are sulking, then you will push so many more.

This is a food and weight related entry, about us.

With some time to think, for a couple of days now...

We're detecting a pattern.

During the day we don't eat very much, when we are alone. Just like the old days. When we can use our time how we like, we don't eat as much. When we sit around...doing what we think we should be doing to spend time with other people...we eat. And it's not just in a relationship; and we eat so much; and we want to eat so much. We just want to stuff our face.

We're not sure what this means yet. We're looking into it.

But off the cuff, if you were to ask, we don't get bored, so we eat when we're uncomfortable, anxious, and depressed.

God, we're just the fucking best...

Think We're Alone Now...

James started his new job today.
So, now we have time to ourselves for the first time in about a year.
Daytime alone time is good, it will be better when we get the house though, and move out of here (The Mother's house). We've written about our desire to be alone recently, this is, like, the extended version, the LP, if you will.


We're a little nervous about the format of our day, or rather, what it will be, now.

Sounds strange to you, probably; but we like a bit of a format, a framework, for our week. So we know what's expected of us; and since James would prefer we spend all of (or most of) our time with him during the day, and now when he gets home from work...this (potentially) means a loss of time with our online friends at night.

Yes, we are one of those anti-social social freaks who has "friends" online. You conform to the narrow paradigm of what you think is normal, we'll just do what makes us happy.

Not sure how other people are, but we don't like using the computer (or reading) much, or attempting tasks (like painting, and sometimes cooking), with someone hovering around. Doesn't matter what we may be doing on the computer, working on designs in Photoshop, writing Tweets, blog posts, letters, doing research, reading. The feeling that we may be "being watched", and therefore make ourselves open to quick criticism; for example, if we were writing this now, and someone was sitting next to us, we'd feel a level of uncertainty - what if we wrote this, and between the time we wrote it and published it, there was something we decided to omit, and then erase it, but someone glanced over and read it already, and felt hurt by what we wrote.

It's hard to take words back. (so very hard, sometimes - we'll probably want to erase this blog entry later. Don't let us.)

Also, people being near us, or "in our space", tends to suck our focus out. Unless they are dead silent. On many occasions even a small interruption can derail what we are attempting to do; and if we can manage to tune them out, we run the risk of "not paying enough attention" or "ignoring". Which is "rude".

Anyway, it's all a lot of whining. It's hard to explain, especially to James, how much his relationship expectations are so much different than what we are used to. We've dated plenty of different types of men, and we've lived with many different types of men, and there was never an issue of any of them feeling neglected.

In one relationship a boyfriend even had his own room, with a bed. There were no doors on it, and it was across the hall from the bedroom we shared, but it was still his space to meditate, create art, read, take naps.

Many boyfriends had friends, and a social life, outside of our relationship. One played board games with his buddies in the basement of the house we lived in, we were encouraged to join whenever we wanted, and was part of a Frisbee-golf team. (He was older, like 37, so it's not like he was a teenager, which is probably how that sounds). Another went to jam sessions, and had gigs out of town on occasion (the drummer).

We could go on and on, obviously; this is merely to illustrate how our expectations of time spent together was moulded.

The point is...how will we agree on a compromise when many of our relationships expectations are so vastly different form his. How will our day be structured. Why are we freaking out.

Actually, we know why we're freaking out.

The sad truth? Some of us are desperately afraid of losing ourselves, and by that we mean our sense of independence, our individuality (as much of that as we can have when we can have it), our creativity, our sense of knowing what makes many of us happy. We've made it THIS far...and we've finally been able to be us comfortably, love ourselves (not always, but still, enough).

That was a mini breakthrough, we suppose. Congratulations if you slogged your way to this sentence.

On another note, the offer on the house was rejected, so we'll be going back in with another offer, because we're getting that fucking house.

Three Times A Charm?

It's the third property we've put an offer on since June. After spending six months holding our for the Weeping Willow property.

It wasn't even the house we went to the small nearby town to see, but driving in we saw the sign, and the agent had too, and he called the number before he met us at the the house we had originally gone there to see (a total fucking disaster, priced nearly $15,000 over the price of the one we put an offer on).

We were lucky to get into this house, last minute.

We fell in love with it before we hit the second floor. Large kitchen, usable, we could upgrade it (and we will) but it really doesn't have to be, if we didn't want to. Dining room...high ceilings and original wood floors and moulding from 1910. Living room...same original floors and moulding  and small French doors to close off the front hall/entry. All the woodwork, original to the house; but newer windows, new siding, new roof...new hot water furnace (unfortunately hot water baseboard), newly insulated basement...a basement that is functional.

There are three bedrooms (and a small bonus room) on the second floor, one and a half baths (the half is closet-small, but whatever, it's on the main floor), Even the stairs are original, and in good condition. The plaster walls are original, and in amazing condition. The same family has owned it pretty much since it was built, and took care of it. The lot? 15,000 square feet. And an empty lot next door that can probably be purchased. We see a garden...and a garage...to be built. But mostly..No Renovations Needed! (only merely a kitchen [and bathroom]desire)

We think, and James agrees, no room screams "Frankie's Painting Studio" (The Frankie Cave),  but we'll just make those rooms scream anyway.

It's a 35 minute commute to the city, but the way we figure, in a large city, it takes that much time just to sit in traffic anyway. It is interstate driving, and we are "gun-shy" with all the semi-trucks that travel it (because of our car accident)...but, suck it, Buttercup, right?

It's a small town (population around 1500), with many of the original business buildings circa 1910. It's a charming commuter town. It has a spot for fishing in the park (we love fishing), it's...well. It's where we hope to call home.

We put an offer on it tonight. Three times a charm, right?

Late Night Edition

Yeah, we already wrote tonight. So this is the "Late Night" edition.

We haven't slept well since Friday night; which is the last time, before tonight, that we imbibed (in alcohol).

For months now we have ceased drinking on the weekend, at James' request - he doesn't like when we drink, which usually coincides with us watching the news channels, and playing around on Twitter (he hates American news, and he hates Twitter) - and so other than the 6-7 hours we spend during the day with him during the week (from waking until 5pm), on weekends, we spend all of our extra time with him.

We can't sleep on the weekends.
We want to, but we toss and turn all night, waking at least every hour with nightmares, anxiety, sweats, worries. Some of it might have to do with the time we spend sitting in bed on the weekend, because The Mother and Stepdad are home, and so we relinquish the main floor to them when we can. We should relinquish it more, but sitting in bed just makes our back hurt; which is probably one of the reasons we toss and turn. It just makes our back hurt.

So, we don't sleep on weekends very much. It's a long time in bed, tossing and turning. Sure, we could turn to Twitter with our insomnia - but that's what we did in the "old days"...and this is the "new days"...

Tonight, we've been drinking. And we'll sleep. And I'm crying, because...we might have a problem.

Change Afoot...and a Brief Film Review

Tomorrow we'll be looking at a promising house with a nice big yard 35 miles from the city.
Really promising. Plus, we're growing desperate...

The biggest news is that James starts work on Wednesday (!) which means changes. Changes in our online time, changes in our free time, and once (not "if", because we ARE moving...sometime) we move, it means painting time. Time to write more. Time to cook more. All the things we've mentioned before.

This weekend we went to see, hands-down, the best film we've seen in at least two years. Django Unchained. It's the new film written and directed by Quinton Tarantino. A real modern day film great.

With elements of Sergio Leone, an Italian director recognised from his writing and directing of the great "spaghetti-westerns" starring Clint Eastwood known as The Good, The Bad and The Ugly; A Fist Full of Dollars; and A Few Dollar More - and Tarantino's own fantastic direction, clever dialogue writing skill, and overall flair for creating graphic violence - the script and direction was simply...breathtaking. Pulling from American history, and treating it with his special twist; everything from the dialogue, to the action, to the cast itself, was perfection. It was almost like the script was written for the actors.

It's been awhile since he's done a film that we so wholly approved of. It tugged at every emotion in the human spectrum, but mostly made us want to watch the two-and-a-half hour movie again immediately.

So. Anyway. We went to see that on Saturday, and followed it up with a very disappointing meal at a local restaurant known locally for things we just can't agree with; and known by us, for it's ridiculous prices (for what is offered) and disappointing menu. We thought we'd give it a second chance. Second chances usually end up disappointing.

Roshambo

Rock beats scissors; Scissors cut paper; Paper defeats rock.

Neck and shoulder pain fucks them all.

Whining

Trying to find a house to buy has become...so exhausting.
It's been months now, of looking...offers...more looking. Fingers crossed so much they cramp.

The market where we live is tight, and grows tighter by the day. It's one of the only places in the United States this can be said about. The areas around it, while affordable, have bleak market futures, and are full of...undesirable characteristics.

Figures we'd be here.

We hate this place.

But we're here for at least three years. What with James' new job, and us starting University in the Fall.

This is not one of our better thought out situations.

Thought out situations?! Hahahaha! *sigh* As if that's even been the case.

We just want to be able to pull the ear buds out and crank our music, dance, with paintbrush in hand, screaming at the top of our lungs...splatter and stroke paint on canvas. Sit quietly and write. Cook, in a space all our own. Just...be fully us.

It's nearing the tip of our fingers. We can almost feel it. Yet...it's inconceivable. Like it'll never happen.

Yes, this has been a lot of whining.

Once Upon A Time...

...we were single.

We could do what we wanted to do. When we wanted to. How we wanted to.

Sure, it usually meant drinking, and sometimes passing out in various places in our apartment after a night of painting, Tweeting, or writing...crying...and then waking up and going to work.

We were thinner then. We've put on some weight.
We were more beautiful then. We've grown hateful of our appearance.
We wrote more. It's become a struggle.
We painted then. It's been over a year since we've put brush to canvas. The aching for it is mounting. That next first time, we may cry.

It's going to sound terrible. No matter how much we love you (James).

We were happier.

Not that you don't provide happiness (you do, mostly).
It's just...different.

It was once upon...a very different time. Not too long ago.

This has been a very personal notation.