ladyloveswolves7: Beaugi bear (Default)
Subj: Black Dog
Date: 06/04/2001 8:39:47 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From: KSchmo7177
To: Fan4Richie

Ursula: (ignore/delete this rant)
It is still wrangling me to the ground on a daily basis but I am hanging in there. I only got Part 1 of the Purple thingy Barney, and the other stuffed kids thingys but I liked part one. Oh god I wish I had a life. Or my hours were longer. How long does it take for St. Johns Wort to work? One pill a day at how much per pill? Hubby fixed a drain today (whoopee). Tempted to send him a long email telling him exactly where I am and what is going through my head. Wouldn't the shit hit the fan.

I spent the day repeating an entire previous day's work trying to find 35 cent error. How did I miss it the last time I did this? I am 56 years old. My mother died in 1993 at 63. Why am I pissing away an entire day on useless bullshit?

You can tell he has been biting at my heels this afternoon. Mondays are always a bitch. The waking panic attack today did not disburse but hung on chewing on my chest for hours. It becomes circular. Field across the road is showing green. Whatever farmer planted in May has started to come up. Ain't nature a marvel.

I will probably be bugging you for part 2 of the purple fairy (did I sent you a picture of MY purple fairy bear. articulated with feathered wings- he sits in the lap of my fancy dressed rat.).

It is to weep. Life is a bitch and then you die. Problem is when there is nothing particular wrong. So why the misery? Mom's birthday was May 3 and she died in 93 is that a reason for all of May to be a bitch. Probably.

Things/jobs/duties/fucking things to do - looming and I have no stamina or willingness to tackle them. Huff June 6, Kaila birthday June 10 ugh, blood donor June 12 - okay if I am first in first out, son 550 lbs doctor appoint June 13 (which one of us will kick the bucket first him or me). June 14 Nicky going in for surgery on throat - hospitals are dangerous places for people with no immunity.

Sister will be 53 and has three grandchildren two of whom are almost in their teens. wow
Peter will be one year back on wagon but I have not recovered from his two years off the wagon. Fragile is how I would describe myself. Expecting some further catastrophe in my life and holding my breath waiting for it.

Pessimism as a way of life. You could put my name on that. The glass is always half empty in my view.

Some good and bad stories. Trying to distinguish between.
I spoke of the difference between the two fandoms. Another difference - S&H has few incredibly
evocative lines. M/K fiction if absolutely full of them.
I collect quotations, lines, evocative phrases and have done all my life in my Commonplace book. It took me a long time to notice that S&H has very few keepers unlike M/K which is so full of them that it is practically a full time job collecting them. heheh
Gotta love our Alex who is, at bottom, responsible for some of the most creative, inspirational and wonderful shit on the planet.
So right now I want: which one is Bodie and which one is Ray, I want colour pictures labelled who is who. I hate reading stories and cannot picture the people. Regular fiction that you buy - you create in your mind's eye the character as described by the writer. Fan Fiction is missing something unless you have seen the show and your mind is filled with the character, the attributes, the background.
Is it because fan fiction assumes you know these people and therefore does not describe them fully enough for a stranger to round them out or picture them in their mind? Probably.
I just know that sometimes the stories lack a visual picture of the character. The fact that I know what Starsky or Hutch or Alex or Mulder look like is no excuse for the writer to skip describing him/them.
Oh god I am just so way out to lunch. Going to read Starsky & Hutch zine (but it is one of the not schmoopy ones - this one has character death, character losing lover, character telling partner he loves and partner running for hills).
Hubby just took apart kitchen sink and found one of those chicken squewer (sic) thingies in the trap and that he says is why sink has been backing up.
One problem down and a hundred to go.
Is this dumping? Probably, at this point in my mind it is hard to tell. I am having sympathy with xanthe's Mrs. Krycek in fugue.
I am really really tired of lugging this misery around.
Hubby's sister dropped by unannounced (again) on Sunday to check (she says) on her garden (hubby gave her and his mother a section of our garden to plant vegetables). So now on my days off she/they are liable to show up unannounced. This is the second time they have arrive like this since his sister moved to Toronto to live with his mother. I did not acknowledge her arrival and remained in my bed with my magazine.
Mi casa su casa = just as long as I don't have to *entertain* you. In the past when *his relatives arrived I made nice and carried the conversation while he deaked off to play in the yard with his tractor or whatever. Nevermore. when his family shows up from now on I am keeping myself absent and let him *talk* to them for a change. I have no living relatives left to bug him and make him be a responsible human being. So I have ceased to be responsible for his mother's birthday, mother's day, christmas gift etc. Cards to his sister, remembering their anniversaries. Fuck them all. I have abdictated my responsibility to *his family*.
Of course I know it is the *black dog* who has been whispering in my ear for a year or more and that I, Karen-Leigh, would never ever be so unkind or unthinking. Sigh.
Minutiae. A life of minutiae.
How come I missed the Purple Fairy? My email is still, lately, sending me part 2 and not part 1 of everything.
I know I am sooooooo far behind on Book 5 of Nickzone game and poor Baines is languishing in limbo.
I am thrilled to bits. All my journals from ten or more years ago on DOS I have moved into Windows Word. Lots of ugly tag bits and shit to clean off copy but hey the DATA is not LOST.
Of course, rereading my journals is fatal. I only write ugly, unhappy, nasty, depressed shit in journals. When I am happy I have no need to write as a catharsis. God help my family if I die and they read through shit I wrote. I better put in my will - bomb my computer instantly, the moment you know I am dead, take computer to a NERD and have the hard drive erased immediately for your own mental health and safety.

I wish I was thinner. The vitamins are clearing up my skin at least. So I should soon be pleased about that. Managed to get them down with regular milk instead of buttermilk this morning. I am determined.
I gotta call the vet =- they normally call and let me know when dogs are due but this year they have not called nor have they sent a post card. Jayar died in December 2000 and it is like all my other dogs died with him.

Heartworm pills are due in June and since they have not contacted me as ususual, I guess I will have to call them and make an appointment.
I am going to go back to the beginning of this rant and tell you to ignore/delete it.


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