Thursday, August 30, 2012

Not bad, for a human...

In honor of Monstermania, which I went to two weeks ago (and to which Stepmom forbade Little Bros 1 and 2 to go, because she doesn't want to encourage their interest in horror films because she doesn't want disturbing images and thoughts planted in their heads; they're 18 and 19 for feck's sake I think maybe she needs to unwrap the umbilical cord from around their necks like now), I shall now talk about horror films more than I already do. (Do I? I feel like I do....).
[I met Norman Reedus!! He was a total sweetheart, and he liked my tattoos. :D]

But anyway, back to horror movies... 
Yesterday evening, whilst outside having my last ciggie, I looked around at the woods surrounding my backyard and imagined what would happen if an axe-wielding maniac suddenly burst through the foliage, heading straight for me with his axe raised and ready to strike.

Obviously, I would not allow fear to cloud my survival instincts, despite the fact that, in my current position, I have few weapons at my disposal.

Such a move would only buy me time, but just enough to time to get into the house, lock and barricade the door, and procure a Good Weapon.

So many choices...

(I think I was some kind of warrior in a past life... One of my ultimate fantasies is to ride into battle on an armoured horse [preferably a Friesian], with a good soundtrack [I ride at ~1:00] to herald my glory.)
Do I use the scimitar, which has a much better reach than the murderer's axe?

Or the bow and arrows, which gives me the advantage of being able to inflict harm from a distance?

Dude's got an axe--eventually he'll be in the house. I have 2 or 3 minutes at maximum to get the cat into a safe place (obvs priority #1), dial 911, grab a weapon, and get to a good spot to use said weapon.

So I'll be listening for the axe murderer--is he trying to come in through the barricaded back door? Most likely not; he'll make for the nearest window he can fit through. Which puts him at a distinct disadvantage, should I choose to make use of the bow & arrows, and/or the throwing knives.

Poor guy doesn't stand a chance.

....of course sometimes I envision this scenario going the other way, with me putting up a good fight before meeting a violent and bloody (and obviously cinematic) death.

Or imagining how well I would fare in an apocalyptic setting. (This one can't be helped, as approximately 80% of all of my dreams take place in either chaotic armageddon, or a post-apocalyptic setting, so it's obviously just there in my head always and there's nothing I can do about it.) Apparently, I would fare pretty well; or at least many of my friends think so. A couple weeks back whilst we played archery in the back garden, they joked that I should wear a sign that says In Case of Armageddon, Get Behind Mich.
Am I insane? Does anyone else spend large chunks of their free time putting themselves into horror movie situations? I feel like maybe this is abnormal.

Thursday, August 23, 2012


Things are getting a little okay fine a lot craycray since Stepdad's passing. I'm handling the legal end of things, once Mum gets the letters of administration from the Surrogates Court. I thought I'd be able to get those for her, but apparently if an estate is worth less than $10,000 (and this one is worth waaaaaaaaaay less), the surviving spouse can just walk into the Surrogates Court with a list of the assets and be handed the certified letters of administration right then and there, without having to file the standard intestate applications. 

....Now that I've lost 99% of you to confusion and ennui, I shall change the subject.

Thanks, as always, to all of you for your support. I don't deserve you. <3


In an attempt to get more people to notice my book and thus perhaps buy it so I can get my debt back down into the 4-digit realm, I have made a facebook page for my illustrator and myself. (I've also given the website a total makeover.)

I would be absolutely eternally grateful if any of you who are facebook would wander over to the new page and "like" it, and perhaps share it with your friends who have children or who like reading whimsical fantasy? I realize it's obnoxious advertising and shameless self promotion, but starving writers need to be obnoxious and shameless to get noticed before they're dead. :)

I hope you're all having a wonderful week, and have an even more wonderful weekend!

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

what a day....

This morning, Mum and I found Stepdad dead in his room.

Well really Mum saw him and would not enter the room, so she sent me to see if he was breathing. He was in his chair with his oxygen thingy not on his face like it usually is, and he looked very white.

He was cold.

I know we expected this, since he was so sick. And Stepdad and his kids have been making our lives miserable for years, so it's not like there was any love lost there, but still.....

As terrible a person as he was, I think towards the end he received it back in spades--his kids didn't want to take care of him and made that fairly obvious, he was dying a slow and awful death and living in a house with people who didn't really want him there--not exactly a pleasant end of life.

I think maybe he killed himself, God rest him. There were a bunch of empty pill bottles in the rubbish bin next to his bed. I didn't tell Mum that.

We've already had to call the cops on Stepbro #1 twice today. All communication between my fam and Stepdad's kids is now being done between me and Stepbro #2, who is the most mature/civil. I have a feeling this will get interesting once Stepbro #1 and Grendel start drinking later on.

I think I may need a drink as well.... Mum's a bit of a wreck though, so I'm trying to keep a clear head. I imagine I shall need it.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

No Father, it's just fizzy water.

The books shall be mailed out at some point in the near future... (Don't worry, those of you who messaged me--I won't forget you.)

I love how I have the same conversation with my mother over and over and over and over ad nauseam. Actually now that I think of it, we have many conversations over and over again, because Mum (though I love her unconditionally) does not pay attention, or listen. Ever.

Seriously, it's been the same since we got the internet. 

Like is she kidding


Funny how sometimes you end up eating your words.
better than stuffing my face with actual cereal... 
Remember that post I did a while back, about the intense awkwardness I felt going to Dadum's church?


I've started going to church with Dad, Stepmom, and the Little Bros.

Regularly. And without being coerced or guilted into going. YES, my fellow Catholic brethren, I think I have officially defected.

I thought I'd kept it on the DL, but apparently Dad told Big Sis#2 of my recent churchgoing. Our text conversation from last week:

Big Sis#2: "I hear you've been staying over at Dad's and going to church. Think you made his year. What are you planning?? Mum must think you've lost it"


Big Sis#2: "You're seriously going to church now"

Mich: "Yes. I don't know. I think maybe I've lost my mind. I'm depressed."

Big Sis#2: "Traitor!"

Mich: "-____-"

Big Sis#2: "Awww honey, but why are you depressed?"

Where do I even begin? I hate my job, I hate Bergen County, I hate my life, I hate that my cat is dead, I hate Stepdad and wish he was dead, and I hate that I feel that way and that he's made me feel that way, and I hate that I hate everything, and I feel trapped, and I need to GET OUT. The shrink isn't really helping. The vitamins* aren't helping and I really need to work on quitting them again. The drinking every night isn't helping and it's going to put me in an early grave if I don't cut it out. Writing isn't helping because I'm more blocked than my sinuses are from the vitamins*. Nothing helps; nothing makes the awful feelings go away. So I started going to church with Dad.

And it's helping. A little.

 I don't think I'm going to become like the crazies who think God hates gay people and abortion doctors, or the people who take the Bible as literal, word for word, believing the earth was literally created in 7 days and that the mere idea of evolution is heresy***. My beliefs haven't changed, not one bit. Just the practise of them has changed. Or perhaps the intensity of that practise?

Mum doesn't know yet, but I have a feeling that my days of secrecy are numbered. Eventually she's going to cop on to the fact that I'm spending every Saturday night at Dad's not just to hang out more with my bros (like when they go back to college and I keep going to Dad's she'll probably catch on...). Or she's going to catch me reading one of these nights (or on a weekend morning).

...most people do this with things like porn...
She already thinks I'm insane. This will make her think I need hospitalization.

Oh well. 

***[At the risk of possibly offending some of my readers (not my intention at all), I don't get the the issues with believing in evolution. Like for real, God in His infinite wisdom made all the livings on earth capable of changing and adapting to keep up with a changing environment. That's effing genius. If He hadn't done that, lots more species of animals and insects and whatnot could have died off. Like DUH. How is it blasphemous to accept, or even simply consider that notion?

Idk.... It just seems so obvious.]