garnetpixie

I have talked to a few people who feel the same way about this "Occupy Wall Street" protest happening right now. I don't have a whole lot to say about it that any supporter of the cause would listen to, or even consider. I'm not stupid, I try to stay away from politics, and I feel very distant from what exactly is going on. What I have to say is not from the stand point of someone who has a job and looks down on the unemployed, or from the perspective of someone ill informed. I know what I am talking about, and no one has to agree, just read it.

Dear Occupy:

Who's looking after your children? Were they late to school this morning? Every morning this week? And last week? Did they get to bed on time? Who is feeding your dog? Your hampster? Who is making your son's poster for "Star Student Week" this weekend? Where were you when your mother called to tell you your father is in the hospital, and she needs you? Were you on a grassy lawn, with other like-minded individuals? Or was it a sidewalk in a busy city? Right outside a small market, maybe one that gets a lot of local business, from families who live near by? A store that is losing money from the regular customers who are afraid of going through that part of town to get that gallon of milk after picking up their kids from school. Maybe you were holding a cleverly worded sign, one that I have seen on Tumblr, or Facebook? Was it a different sign you were holding when your friend used his keys to scratch a CEO's car as it drove near by? Did he mistake that car for the boy who works in the mail room's car? What about the police officers working 30 hour shifts to make sure no riots break out, or keeping an eye on the crowd to make sure no children get trampled in the even of a rush of bodies? Don't you think his wife and kids miss him, don't you think they are worried that he might miss the school play? Maybe he's missing out on his sick child's last few days, since his child has been in and out of the hospital? Have any one of you stopped and thought about what is going on? Not one single interview, news article, blog post, FB status, or Tumblr post that I have seen has had a clear message. What exactly are you fighting for? What is the cause? Who is your leader? I'm not saying I have all the answers, or that any one person does. I too am the 99% with the least amount of wealth. But I don't need much to be happy, and neither should you. My child is feed, asleep, clean and getting up every morning for school. Even if *I* sleep in, he still gets to school on time. I'm in his class room an hour a week, sometimes longer. I'm making copies, cutting circles of paper, gluing, stapling and organizing holiday parties, so that my child's teacher can focus on educating. I'm walking children to after school care so her parents can know she is safe until they get off work. I'm keeping an eye on a girl who has trouble focusing on getting to the bus, giving her reminders to get to the bus in time so she isn't left behind. I am doing something, even if I can't find stable work. I am a member of my community. I am making a difference. I'm not standing outside a building holding a sign, while my parents get my child ready for school in the morning. I refuse to stand around and do literally nothing while people around me need support. I knit socks that turn out too small, I don't just toss them! Never! I ask around, little brothers and sisters of Gabe's class mates. Donations to The Women's Health and Birth Center, for a craft fair. Nothing needs to be wasted.


So, Occupy protesters, I don't disagree with your cause, I really don't, but don't you have somehting important to be doing? Don't have a job? VOLUNTEER! Pleanty of organizations need help. Looks great on a resume when you can say "I was working for them as a volunteer" instead of "I couldn't find work" and it helps your local community. You want things to change? Get up, do something! Be a member of your community. Make a difference in a child's life. Walk dogs. Babysit. Feed baby and injured birds. Just get up and be a community leader. 

We all have them.
With sites like Facebook, Twitter, Google+, etc, we can share them. A lot.
Not everyone agrees.
Not everyone can agree to disagree.

MY personal blog. My posts on MY page, are just that MY POSTS. It's how I feel. It's what I think. You don't have to agree with it. If I don't name a name but what to shout and yell that I don't want you to try and contact me, no harm. Not eveyone can be "good" all the time. And you know what? MY MORELS AND VALUES ARE DIFFERENT THAN YOURS! I'm not going to forgive if I feel like I don't have to. I'm not going to back down when I AM ENTITLED TO EXPRESS MY OPINION AND BACK IT UP WITH FACTS! If you can't handle that sort of debateful conversation, don't start one up. Don't agree with my opinion? Express it, sure, but I"M NOT GOING TO CHANGE MY MIND! And you can't make me feel bad for wanting to express myself. I try not to tell someone they are stupid for believing in something, even if they are misinformed. I will show them a link to an article that supports my opinion, then if that's not convincing I might agree to disagree. A disagreement doesn't have to end a friendship. But, you know what? It does. Some people don't know when to back down. I've missed out on the chance to get to know a lot of people because they don't like one, maybe two, of my opinions. That hasn't deffered me from getting to know some people I want to get to know. That's not fair! I'm worth getting to know. I'm opinionated. I'm sarcastic. I'm mean. But I'm worth getting to know. I can't help but remember being like 6-years-old and my mom, three times taller than me, towering over me in a firm voice saying, "Life isn't fair." And it isn't fair. It's not fair that I have cut people out of my life, and now my sister is pleding with me to change my ways. That my opinions offend her. That I'm doing something wrong. Fuck all of it. I'll stand by my sister's decisions. Like getting married. Going to school. I mean, I was the first person she called during an emotional break down... But now I'm not being supportive becuase I have my opinion and I want to vent and bitch and yell at the top of my lungs about a frustrating situation?! I didn't type out anyone's name. I didn't post it on her wall. I didn't even imply that I was involving her in the conversation. But it offends her that I don't want to talk to someone who made me cry for two days and didn't talk to ANY of us for years? I'm just suppose to undo the 5 years of work I put into surrounding myslef with the few people I can actually trust and feel comfortable with, just because I have nothing nice to say to a phantom that haunts my past? I don't have anything nice to say to that person, so I told her that I don't have anything nice to say, and would rather not say anything at all. I'm trying to be polite as possible, when in my head I'm making a list of all the terrible things I want to yell at this girl. All the heart ache not only inflicted on me, but on my sister too. All the doubt and trust issues I have fought with for the past 5 years. It chases after me. I go weeks without thinking about, then there it is, tossed in my face. Hitting me in the back of my head. Sliding off my face and into my bra. It pops up in dreams, messages on Facebook, and in sharing a life's worth of history with my fiance. So, life isn't fair. I have big girl panties. But you know... Now I don't want to exist. I just want to curl up in bed and wallow in my failures. Life is just one huge crash of a down after a tiny, unnoticable up. Over and over. But we push on, hoping that one big up will plateau and we won't fall back down again. Maybe I just need to make new friends? I don't know, but I know that I'm not wrong here. I get to feel the way I feel, and everyone who tells me that is wrong can suck it.

I haven't written much of anything lately. It's not that I don't want to... I've just been busy. Gabe is in Kindergarten. He comes home and wants to eat, eat, eat, until dinner. Then he's too tired to eat dinner. Asleep at 8:30 pm awake at 7 am. He really needs that much sleep?! Two years ago he would go to sleep at 9:30 pm and be WIDE awake at 5 am. I miss how adorable he was when I cut his hair, and he wanted to dig around in a planter box with a bumble bee shovel. I miss walks to the park right down the street. I miss when life moved slow and all I looked forward to was tomorrow. Now it's busy. Like a jet. Things move by too fast. I don't take many pictures of my child or his accomplishments. I'm not very sentimental with pictures. I mean... It's all digital. And one day everything will be dust anyway. We can't live the way we have been living without sucking our resources dry. Why take a picture every day after school?! What point is there in remembering how big my child's hands were when he was 5 years old? I like that I have a phone and I can send pictures to my mom, or my sister, to make up for time not spent together. They get a photo diary of Gabe. Sometimes. When I'm not super busy. Like the picture from his Back-to-school night I haven't sent to my mom yet.

Speaking of busy... I have been crochetting a lot. Like my hand hurts when I'm done. I made 80 light periwinkle blue  miniture granny squares in two weeks. Now I need to work on getting it to 200 in two weeks! Seriously though, I have been working hard at getting my Etsy populated with items to sell. I added two new ones a few days ago. I still have one to get done and take pictures of before I can list it. Basic baby layette. Sweater, booties, bonnet and sockies. I have one made and sent to a friend (Who is having/just had her baby last night/this morning!) and two more for a cousin who just had a baby and his sister who has one on the way. I know the baby born on the 2nd is a girl, and the baby being born right now/last night is a girl. One mystery baby. I'm making everything yellow for that baby. Nice and neutral. At this moment there are 30 red squares right next to me. I grabbed the wrong project bag. I keep a skien, hook and if needed a pattern in ziplock bags for projects. Easier to grab a bag and have a seat to work then to dig through a hook holder, box of yarn and pattern books (or hand written pages). I grabbed the red yarn instead of the pink. I blame my lack of sleep.

Sleep... sleep... sleep. Where did you get off to? Am I anxious lately? Are my dreams disturbing and I cna't remember them? Why can't I sleep? I use to flop in bed, pretty much already asleep, when I was working 60-90 hours pay periods. I worked 13 hours New Years Day, after working 12 hours New Years Eve. That was one of 3 times I worked like that, but I covered a lot of extra hours. Extra hours. Extra time in a place I hate. Extra time covering everyone else's asses. Extra time away from my Gabie. So... Why can't I sleep? I sleep for a little while then toss and turn the rest of the night until right before my alarm goes off. Time to get up and get Gabe ready to walk to school. I walk him to school and then I walk back home alone. About 2 City blocks. We cross 5 streets and sing "Five Little Monkies Jumping on the bed" while we walk. Hugs, kisses and, "I will pick you up after school," then I'm off, walking alone. I si ton the bed and crochet while Ben does his work stuffs. I don't know a whole lot about it, but we usually eat lunch together at the very least. Sometimes I use headphones and listen to music or watch shows on my laptop while I crochet. Then it's time to walk back over to pick Gabe up from school. Walk. Walk. Walk. Wednesday I walked to his school then back home 3 times. That's close to 1 1/2 miles. Why can't I sleep?! Last night I woke up and rolled over when I heard the Tums jar. It was loud. Ben wasn't laying down. I rubbed his spine a bit and he offered me a Tums. I don't remember after that. Then I was awake again an hour or so later. Check the time on my phone. Lay on my pillow, blanket curled under my feet to keep warm. The sliding glass door is open and the screen shut. It wasn't cold when I got up to pee. I only got up once to pee. I woke up at least 5 times. Instead of getting 6 hours of sleep like my phone told me I would when I made sure the alarm was set, I got about 4 hours of sleep. Why can't I sleep? I don't eat or drink before bed. I find it hard not to fall asleep in the car, or while waiting for somethign to load on my computer. It's not fair that my 5-year-old gets 11 hours sleep when I can barely even get enough sleep to function.

I miss writing. With all the crochet projects, helping where I can with my sister's Wedding, Gabe, Gabe's school and whatever else is going on I can't find the time. Even if I could find the time, what would I write about?!

Here I am, different. Different. Different. I don't have a job. I had to get rid of it. I was loosing sleep. Loosing hair. Loosing myself. Stress was killing me. I couldn't eat. So, no job. I have been going round and round with my social worker/pharmacy/medical billing/medi-cal/social worker/pharmacy just to get the usual every day stuff to be normal every day stuff. Messages, phone calls, messages, phone calls, to find out what I can tell my kid about seeing his dad. "Next week," then he asks, "Three days? Or tomorrow?" and I have to tell him a week is seven days. Chores, chores, chores. We started "chores before Game Time" for my kiddo. It's going okay, but he needs a lot of direction. I can't tell him "pick up toys out of the livingroom floor" without him asking if it's done every 2 minutes. He doesn't see the little legos next to the couch, or the game disks all loose on the top of the Wii instead of in the case where they belong. I'm spread thin all over. Working. Working. Working. I've been working on Crochet Mario themed projects. Necklaces. Sewing. Knitting. Baby booties. Baby socks. Baby sweaters. Yarn, and yarn, and thread. Fabric, in yards and yards and an extremely sensitive tension on my sewing machine. Spread so thin. And now... Now. Now. Now my mouth hurts. So bad I can't concentrate. My brain is working on shutting down. Be back in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... No, wait... Give me a few more minutes... it gets to the point where I'm not even here. I'm somewhere where the pain was less. Has it been half an hour? Good, then the mouthwash effects have worn off. I can eat... but ow, I don't want to. Mmm... iced tea, but ow, it's COLD! Nothing helps. No swelling. No infection. No antibiotics. It WON'T get better. Not until I see a dentist... But I don't have a job. So, the cycle goes on. Around and around, like the laundry I haven't done. Because I can't. My teeth hurt again. And it's been another 2 hours of coping with the pain. Cope, cope, cope. I am spread too thin. I can hear the twang, like a guitar string, or a rubberband that has been stretched over one of those boards full of nails. Careful, I might just snap if you stretch me out too much. Jump back and wack you in the hand. STOP PULLING. Then, that smart kid takes the board. Takes me and puts me two nails in, where I won't snap. Where I have some give. I'm not that guitar string tight. I have some room. In that busy room full of 8-9 year old children that one smart kid saved me. Maybe even took me off and put me in his pocket. Save me for later. Take me home. Maybe he will put me in that safe spot in his shoe box under his bed, with a rubber ball and that dried out frog he found in the summer sun a few months ago. Preserved. Saved. Favorite things. Loved.

All the chaos in my head. In my life. It's a little too much sometimes. But... these last few days it's not so bad. Ben is amazing. The best thing I have ever found. Loved. We both feel L-O-V-E-D. All the time. A smoke before bed and a promise to be taken care of. How could I find anyone better? Someone who just gets me. Someone who has been there for me in every way. Every way I can imagine. He loves my wonderment. He loves my creepiness. He loves all my chaos. <3 So much though that he promised the best promise ever. He asked me to marry him. How could I refuse? <3 YES X A Billion! <3

I sat with my head against my boyfriend's belly, his arm around my head, with my nose burried in the sleeve of my Mario Brother's hoodie he comendered. It was that smell, like 4 months of french fries, Luck Strikes, Djaurm Blacks, being picked up after a stressful day at work for dinner, Chinese food on a lazy day, cooking in his kitchen, dancing at DeathGuild at The DNA Lounge, spilling a drink or two, two concerts, a trip to San Fransisco, Japantown, shopping at Target, moving my stuff in to his appartment, getting my sewing machine set up, more cooking, some rich velvety rum, half a bottle of southern comfort, meatless meat subsititues, turkey bacon, being obsessed with Tumblr, playing Portal 2, spitting on Bowser, mustard on Bowser, cartoons, laughing all night, deep frying lots of food, icewine, and mostly the smell of french fries. It was the smell of 4 months of happiness. Doesn't matter how stressed or depressed I woke up this morning, that smell on the sleeve of my sweater that my boyfriend wears all the time, that smell like I am finially in the only place I ever wanted to be is all I need. In a week we will have been together for 4 months. That's 4 periods with PMS he didn't run from. That's 4 months of my boss cutting my hours every month until I left the job that he listened to me complain about. That's 4 months of posting mush about him on Fackbook. Four months of my kid that he's played along with. Four months of my squeeks and squeals about shows I like, movies I want to see, cute things I "just have to buy" and he laughed about. Four months of my planning things to make/sell on ETSY with his encouragement. Four months of ME and he's still here. So, it's that smell on the sleeve of that hoodie that reminded me, despite my mood, that I.am.happy.here. <3

It has been forever since I have watched a zombie movie, played a zombie game or seen zombie art. Last night... My brain was swiming in a zombie story plot... Epic, all night and continuing every time i woke up and went back to sleep. I have no idea what triggered it. I had a nice night last night. Went out for dinner, had a drink, plaed some Portal 2, all with my boyfriend. This dream was slow in progression. Started as something else entirely then ended with macheties and shot guns. Anyway, here it is:

  At first it was in the toenhouse I grew up in on Randell Lane. I was moving out, but my grandma had come over while I was at work and taken my bed and all my clothes over to the new place without telling me. I yelled at my mom for letting that happen. I decided that the friends I had over could crash in the floor and I could crash on one of the couches in my room. I kept telling everyone to prepare for the zombie apocalypse, because I had come back form the future and I knew it was going to happen. We were apparently in a town where Umbrella was experimenting with the T-virus in a Hive facility below us. No one believed me. Jokingly my friends were throwing the berries that grow on bushes outside the Library downtown into an open window of some computer lab place. I peeked inside and warned them that there were too many windows. Zombies would get them. Also, there would be no electricity eventually, so gaming wasn't going to happen. They groaned at my patheticness. No one believed me. I resumed life as normal, thinking that maybe I was wrong. Huge mistake. I left Gabe with my parents and decided to go to the Mall. The Plaza Mall. Right around the time the T-virus was suppose to be exposed to the Hive employees. The Hive was under the Mall. I over heard rent-a-cops (aka Mall security) talking about a "security breach between them and us" and now they had no idea what to do, or how to tell the shoppers to evacuate. So they called their boss... who didn't answer. Nothing was done. I stood at the ready, to grab whatever was heavy and near by and could kill a zombie. I went to the bathroom. I had to pee. I heard splashing in an open stall. The huge handicaped stall. Some woman was giving her 2 year old a bath in a baby bath tub, in the bathroom?? Yes, but... where was the mom?! I stepped further into the stall. The lttle girl just stared up at me with huge eyes. The mom was laying in a puddle of blood, throat ripped out. Body far too damaged for the infection to reanimate. Very little of the back of her neck was holding her heat to her body. Suddenly, I didn't have to pee. I calmly walked to the Security station. Told them what was in the bothroom. They couldn't help, there were too many similar reports. Or just too many reports period. The two barley adult boys were so lost and frightened, they just stayed at the security station and called the police. I decided to go home. At the bus stop things seemed normal. A group of what seemed to be tweekers were standing near me. One of them was harrassing some construction workers. Mostly verbal. Then the harrasser started twitching. His arm was bandaged up. My eyes grew huge. Oh Shit! Said my brain. He was infected. His arm was bitten. He was changing. I grabbed a ladder that none of the construction crew was using and swung it at the infected man. Too late, he had bitten the construction worker right before impact. Fuck. Time to find a weapon. I grabbed a complicated looking saw and stripped it of everything but the blade. Would have to do, until I got home. I ran to my parent's house. They were watching the news. They had trouble believing it. I was yelling to them to start gathering supplies. To barricade the house. Board up the windows, the back door, the garage door. Get emergency supplies. They didn't listen. Emergency services were not being offered on the news. No warnings to stay inside. Just warnings to call the police if certian behaviors start effecting people you know. I grabbed my kid and we left, to find a safe place to stock with food and weapons. Everything progressed quickly. It was hard to tell who was infected and who wasn't. At first the infected just stood around in groups. Actually far away from non infected people. They didn't really lash out at passers by. It was like they were waiting. Or, rather, it was like they were infecting as they turned then they gathered and waited. I found an office building. Empty. Actually quite ran down. In great disrepair. Stairs had fallen apart. Elevator worked, but was wobbly and creaky. We went up. Shades blocked out most light. That meant that we could block out light from being seen at night. It didn't seem so bad. Like it would work. We could cut the cables for the elevator and then it would be perfect. Intelligence would be the only thing to get up and down. We would be safe. Hopefully my parents would listen. I left Gabe there. It was safer for him to hide than to be out in the chaos with me. He found a closet that locked from the inside and sat in the floor. I told him not to open the door for anyone but me. I headed back to my parents house. My dad was out, shopping or something. My mom was worried. He was just going down the street and would be right back. My sister was there now. I convinced them to at least go with me to pick up Gabe. We drove to the abandoned office. He was happy to see us. We got back in the car just in time to see a truck passing by with a huge sign. Shelter, protection, food and water. A community trying to pull together. It was in the street. Cops were shooting but the newly infected were still biting the officers. The officers were bitting the nearest person. It just wasn't working out so well. The infected seemed to only go after someone that was near them when they turned. Otherwise they just started walking to the gathering group of the other infected. We followed the truck. The building was like the Mall but instead of stores it was like little office cubicles in the wall. Like little alcoves. Nooks. Just like rooms without doors. We found an empty one. Furniture, blankets, water, it was all offered. A crib for Gabe, despite his age. It seemed practicle for keeping him safe. He understood. Barriers were encouraged. Night watch shifts encouraged. Each group or family was encouraged to arm every family memeber. Even children. We had a machet, two saw blades and a base ball bat. Someone dropped off a shot gun with us before night time. I was trying to convince my mom to help me look for more supplies, then some other family we knew showed up. She was acting weird. Like twitchy. I threatened to hack her to pieces, but she explained it was just her meds and that she wasn't infected. I looked her over for a bite and didn't see one. I warned that if she was hiding it I would be the first to just wack her head off if anything happened. We found some candles then started heading back. On the way we saw a beat up truck stop outside. To our surprise my dad was with a group of guys who had been at various stores and were fighting infected. They managed to get away without being infected. The guy driving the truck drove around for half an hour before coming back here just to make sure. We set up for the night. Some antique folding baby bath tub, two high barstools and a table laying on it's side was our blockade. I took the first night watch...

Then I woke up and refused to go back to sleep. I didn't want to know what happened. I didn't want to see us lose the battle. No matter how curious I am about why the infected were gathering... I just don't want to see all the carnage. Not when Gabe is in this sort of dream. It was epic. I woke up 4 times last night and even avoided going back to sleep twice, because I didn't want to keep dreaming, but it didn't work. I continued the dream until I got out of bed and got dressed. Still have no idea where my subconcious got all that from!

Things here are bright. So bright, in fact, that I don't need to turn any lights on. No, I'm not being literal. I'm happy. I forget that things about my life are stressful. I look at him and my angry scowl melts. I'm not mad about anything any more. He is a great brightness and I'm basking in the glow. Do you know how delightful it is to feel like this all the time?! He wants almost all the same things I want out of life. It's so easy to push on, to move forward, to face each day with a smile. It's easy to believe him, all the things he has to say. Like when I get a little stressed after an important phone call, he wraps his arms around me and tells me "We wll work something out" then kisses me. I believe him. The sincere look on his face. It's hard not to believe him. I went so long believing a lie, it's different to feel like I can believe someone again. This is what it's like to be happy? Waking up next to someone who holds me close all night and doesn't complain about how little sleep they got because of MY scheduel. Becasue of MY job. Happiness is sitting on his bed with my laptop while he plays Sonic the Hedgehog on his iPhone. It's cooking dinner and him posting something on Facebook about how amazingly delicious the food was! Happiness means not having to worry about tomorrow, or what will be different, or who he is with. Ben is the best person to have in my life and I am very happy that I have him around. It takes finding the best thing in the world to realize how bad you really had it. Life was a rainy day until someone amazing chased my clouds away <3

I fucking love you Ben!   

He says "You're even more beautiful in the morning light," every morning I wake up with him. He tells me sweet, silly, romantic things I honestly believed no one would ever say to me again. He compliments my hair. My lips. My cheeks. He compliments all of me. He tenderly touches my face. He brushes hair away from my eyes. He is perfect. He is romance. He is all the tender things I forgot human beings were capable of being. He is my hope for the future. We tell each other we will burn the whole world to the ground some day. We understand each other's evilness. Each others twisted, lonely, dark minds. He parts his lips with every kiss. He tells me he loves me at 4 am when one of us wakes up and gets a drink of water. There is a sadness... more like a sorrow, something deep and cold, in his eyes when we have to part. Just for a few days. It still feels like the end of the world. Every moment without him feels like the end of the world.

We shop together. We cook together. We sleep together. When we can't sleep together we talk on the phone until we do fall asleep. He's my partner in crime. My Clide. I'll be his Bonnie. We talk about serious things, heavy things, as if it were all made of helium. He makes the "I want more babies someday" conversation so light hearted. He never makes me feel uncomfortable. He promises me the whole world. He is my whole world.

I spent so long feeling so lonely. Like there was no one anywhere who might understand me. Even when I was with someone off and on for 7 years, I felt misunderstood, lonely. I just thought I was weird, fucked up, not right some how. I wanted to find that perfect person, but I just wasn't finding it. With anyone. My brain told me "Just give up!" and I was ready to. I believe I did. I decided it would be wonderful to get close to some people. Might be nice to have some close friends again. Build up some trust. So... I texted a friend. Someone I really liked what they had to post online, not just on Facebook. I thought that at least he seemed like someone I could some day trust. At least get to know. I love being surprised. I was very surprised. We ended up connecting very well. More so than I ever have with anyone else. We want the same things out of life. We've both had long hard roads to where we are and who we have become. Now we sit up late telling each other our stories. I never knew I could have it so good. Someone who cares about me. Someone weird like me. Someone creepy like me. I'm in love. Like running off to Vegas to elope kind of love! And I wouldn't have it any other way.

You know who you are, and you know I mean it when I yell "I FUCKING LOVE YOU!" Here, on my  LiveJournal Blog.