I never update here anymore. Probably time for a bigger update then just a few sentences.

Meh, maybe later. Still alive, though. Alive and disappointed in even more than I was before.


All part of a day's work.





--MURPHY--

Maybe I should update more often.

So I've been working over in the back to school section of Target lately. Time to complain uselessly.

Notebooks/shirts marketed towards girls that say "Sweet" on them. So! What makes you sweet, you false advertisement? Is it the fact you love puppies and kitties, or the fact that you willingly suck more high school dick than a Catholic priest? And because you are a girl, does that automatically give you the right to think you're god's gift to men?? Or that you might become the best parent on the planet?? Fuck you're being sweetness and light! Get the hell outta my store! Take you and your face and pack up them pink underwears with words on the butt, and hit the bricks! Geez. All this from listening to kids complain about not being able to wear tank tops and short skirts to school.

/end pointless rant.

I wrote that at work, I did.



--MURPHY--

Yesterday, I saw a white falcon sitting in our yard as I pulled up to the house. It looked at me like I were a speck of unsightly dust, and majestically flew away with a baby rabbit in its claws.


That was probably the most metal thing ever. XD


--MURPHY--

I think I take this test once a year. I think my results keep getting crazier. Will I become a hermit?

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Very High
Schizoid:	High
Schizotypal:	High
Antisocial:	Moderate
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	Low
Narcissistic:	Moderate
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test -- -- Personality Disorder Information --

--MURPHY--

"One man's folly is another man's wife."--Helen Rowland



So does that constitute that someone finds his lady to be a shrew and a horror, while another thinks she's the sun and the moon? Or would that mean that "what one man won't accomplish for you, another man will"?

...That's a very interesting quote.


--MURPHY--

I wish I could sleep for maybe three weeks. Maybe the dumb will be out of my system by then. I'm drained of energy as well as ideas.

What's everyone else doing?

I'm so tired of plenty of things, none that I can do anything about.

But I won't complain.

Complaining is the mind-killer.

I will keep all my opinions to myself.

There shall be no negativity on my part, for it only adds to head-ache and and nausea.

Keep my mouth shut, and listen to everyone else.

Anytime that I do, I get bapped on the nose like a bad dog, anyways. So what is the point.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Back to finding work/TRYING to work.






--MUR--

Look guys. Stop the bullshit express. We can all be somewhat drama-free, if certain aspects are called to attention:


Self-respect is fine, but you are not a shining star, nor a beautiful and individual snowflake. You are a revamped, carbon copy of several million bodies before you. Compared to the infinite will of the universe, you are a fucking speck of dust. And so am I, we won't play favorites.

Don't hate someone without a decent reason [ex. if they are socially fickle, abusive, untrustworthy, stole your bike]...not just because they hang out with someone you don't like for what is probably a petty reason...

If you must be withdrawn, make it only for personal reasons, like trying to minimize conflict. PLEASE. To those you are close to. Be HONEST with them. Don't lead anyone on, back-talk uselessly, or make up stories about yourself to seem impressive.

And for chrissakes, if it ain't yours, give it back. Shit.

Don't be a douche to nice people, right???






I'm really fed up with hearing about all this nonsense occurring with my associates. I oughta become a hermit sometime.

--MURPHY--

Dude-guy breaking out of the glass over and over again killed me.

My apologies for my absence. Here's a brief update:

Been sick in various spurts, and consequently allowing the messages and missed calls/messages on my phone to build, so forgive my lack of promptness on returning the calls to those that are concerned. Plus, attempting to get the house in order, cleaning, battling sleeplessness, entertaining guests from out of town, and any other adlepated responses you can think of. So if I am supposed to be meeting with you under any circumstances, by all means, abuse my message machine, and badger me until the dust of my fragments can pick up a phone and call you back.

No sign of whether or not I really and truly graduated...I participated in the ceremony and all the usual bangs and whistles, smoke and mirrors, but my Spidey senses continue to warn me of impending doomage. No real word on the matter until the 20th--my brain seizes with anticipation, so pardon me if I become a clinical vegetable for a while.

January is serving as a resting/regenerating month for me. The school schedule that work is used to is keeping until further notice, so it's a mite like an extended vacation. Thankfully, home holds a lot of lovely distractions to keep my mind off of what would be conceived as horrible predictions about the future, so the chances of going completely off the deep end are slim to nil. I am deeply enjoying my little slice of time off from what the locals call "the drudge of everyday life". We like to keep things interesting--especially when it involves drinks and Wario Ware on Gamecube. In a short while, I should be visiting in Tennessee, land of my birth, littering the ground with buckshot from a 20-gauge. Fuck yeah, I'm going shooting with dad.

My room is a cluster of battered, nostalgic loot. If I ever get any time to clean and go through it, I'll eat my hat. With maple syrup, no less. Lest I forget, my new year's resolution [while drinking eggnog and rum] was to drive a flaming truck through a wall of ice cream.







"Getcha little somethin' that you can't get at home..."

--MURPHY--

Annual xmas report from dad's house:

The house is even more different that last year: the deck has been repaired and painted, the yard dotted with flowery evidence of a Sears catalogue. The downstairs den is all old-style France and daybeds with quilts on them. My old room has been lifted of carpet with hard wood floors and painted gery-green, porcelin dolls lining a cabinet that holds dishes never to be eaten upon. All the rooms still feel cold, no matter how many ancient blankets you're under.

Watching A Christmas Story with dad and Jen made me wonder about why I hate christmas so much--used to a be a blast when you're a kid, everything was surreal and glowing. As an adult working in retail, you see all the tricks of the trade, and it's no longer madical and family-oriented; just business and money and making others happy. What a shame that things should end this way! The gaudiness of christmas is a huge let-down. But there is still one that that stops me in awe each year: well-done christmas lights.

Graduation has come and gone, but I have no idea yet if I even really passed--we are allowed to walk in the ceremony, but degrees don't get mailed out until three weeks post graduation. Therefor, if professors have not posted senior grabs, no one can clarify passing a course. Thus, my delimma--did I pass? Did I not? Fuuuuuck.

And now, as I wait my fate, it's vacation time--time to try and get some rest, eat sleeping pills, travel where I'm gaurenteed a place to stay, and keep working.

Time for bed.

Merry whatever. Keep yourselves up, and keep your heads off your shoulders. I will do my best to do the same.

I will shit bullets if I see one more vampire/vampire-loves-human novel series. Then host a convention for its writers in a gas chamber from the holocaust.

Fall in love with a wrecking ball, that'd be tons more interesting.





--MURPHY--

First thing's first--California people: if you still would like to receive post cards from me, please email me your mailing address. My email's MoonLily16@aol.com
--------------------------------------------------------------
It makes me crazy how my hair becomes an inky, curly-black mess after I wash it.

Nothin' but school and work and priorities. When I AM up to it, I just don't have any socialization energy, making most people pretty angry with me. Gets me to wondering if things will actually change after graduation. IF I graduate. Jeesuz christ, there are no surprises, and I'm sick to death of being wrong all the time. Perhaps I hold people too accountable.

Took three sleeping pills the other day, and still woke up several times. Must be building a tolerance to 'em.

Art's down, writing's down, and my drive to do anything is exceedingly low. I have no idea what should be done about this. Would something surprise me already?!

Captain Hermit, in effect. Back to homework.



--MURPH--

2008 NKU COMMENCEMENT INFORMATION
FOR NKU GRADUATES & GUESTS

Commencement will be held on Saturday, December 20
at 9:00 a.m. in The Bank of Kentucky Center.

GENERAL COMMENCEMENT INFORMATION

DATE: Saturday, December 20
LOCATION: The Bank of Kentucky Center
GRADUATE ARRIVAL TIME: 8:00 AM
CEREMONY START TIME: 9:00 AM

*
The BOK doors will open to guests at 8:00 AM on December 20.
*
The commencement ceremony should conclude by 11:00 AM.
*
Following the ceremony, graduates and their guests are invited to a complimentary reception in The Bank of Kentucky Center.
*
Tickets are not required for the ceremony.
------------------------------------------------------------

A LOT of people canceled going because it's so close to Christmas, or they simply can't make it. Confirmed: I think mom and dad are the only ones going. Damn, man...anyone from out of town wanna come watch? I'll buy you a bus ticket. Shoot.

Dear Norman,

I hope this reaches you in a state of peace. We all know how painful the final days were, so I sincerely wish you rest.

You understood that art has a place everywhere. You baby-sat my mom was a kid, and made sure she didn't beat the shit out of Uncle Kevin for drinking all the orange juice. You listened to me play a god-awful rendition of Moonlight Sonata on the piano at my grandmother's nursing home, because you knew I couldn't play well, but listened anyway. You encouraged me to keep playing, and keep learning new instruments--I'm getting into upright bass, now, thanks to you. You liked to say "if they love you, they'll come back". You stayed long days with my grandfather, because all his friends were dead. You were only firm, never cross. What an unjustified end. You convinced me that there is only me and the road ahead, and not to let others opinions affect me. Gran's jazz song about America and the land of the un-free dies with you, and I lament I'll never hear the rest.

Thank you so much for not rolling your eyes at me when I talked about things my generation does to supposedly seem "rebellious". Thank you for defending me, even when my mom thought I was going insane two years ago. Thank you for reading my poorly-written letters. Thank you for hilariously making fun of Uncle Kevin for being a no-good drunk. Thanks for trying to convince mom with me that I needed a pet monkey. [yeah, it never worked, but we tried...] You never liked me cursing, but god-dammit, I'll miss you.

I love you, Uncle Norman. You told me my grandmother wasn't just any ol' sarcastic woman with too much wit and a pack of cigarettes. And you actually listened to me, because the younger family members did not.

What a grand, and swank gentleman, of the highest degree.

--Mer

----------------------------------------------
I scrapped the last letter I wrote when he was alive, and made a new one. That's all.

My uncle, that's been in the hospital since May, died yesterday morning. He was the only extended family member that actually enjoyed sitting down and talking to me.

I had just finished writing him another letter.

Fucking hell.

Anonymous forces above; please make me not to kill my sister when she spouts ignorant poppycock. College is progressing, I guess, aside from can't sleep and can't keep food down part. But it gets difficult when Jennifer returns from work, panties in a wad about things that should not involve razzing on her own boyfriend and I. Ken might be able to pass it by, but I might break one of her fingers one day. I'm tired of fighting with her, when I'm only telling her the truth about what she NEEDS to here. And she simply gets angry because I'm obviously right, and she just happens to be "so mad that she becomes greedy and unreachable". People, when you get angry about something mundane, don't go to someone for help and lash out when you hear the truth. Things are fine this morning being that she apologized, but the last two nights were horrendous; screaming and threatening, fireworks, sticky grenades...

Just two and a half more months. TWO...if I pass, and I things will resettle. After that...fuck, what am I supposed to do. A jig should suffice...but what after that?

At least, when Jen and mom and I got together the other day, we had a hillarious political debate. Well, more like agreement.

Mom: Palin has no right to talk about abortion policy when her own young daughter is preg--
Mer: BITCHES NEED TO KEEP THEIR LEGS CLOSED, DOWN SYNDROME LOOKIN-ASS--
Mom: *laughs so hard we almost crash the car*
Jen: Palin sucks, but damn, Mer, you're such a hater.
Mer: *channels that crock Ja Rule* MURDA MURDAAAAAAAAAA. [mom car swerves]

I am the offical evil scientist of my family, black-sheeping me from both mom and dad's side. AND LEAST MOM STILL LOVES ME, JENNIFER. X3 Put that in your provebial pipe and snork it! This is point 31 on why I am going to become the crazy lady at the end of the street, barefoot, shotgun-carryin', and probably a 50's style, chunky robot.

What's the most comfortable place to be right now...






--MURPHY--

Did everyone get a primary letter what asked for one? I keep thinking I'm missing something.

The migraine fairies have been subdued with expert timely, but there's one more problem: last night, right before one of them occurred, something in my head closed up, and everything convulsed. I went blind, deaf, and painful for a minute or two, with only the notion that something was clogged brain-wise. This used to happen while I was driving years ago, often, actually...aunt says I might be in the midst of a stroke. So hospital visit tomorrow.

Frankly, I'm actually pretty frightened. I remember the story of a guy that came home from prom, had a headache, went to lie down, and he died from an annuerism the next morning. I'd hate to tell someone "brb, nap" and wake up all dead and shit. Subdural hematoma don't sound pleasant. I hope it's just my glasses causing problems....

I would like to say it's minor...but everything begins as minor.

Schmeh. If I die, make my funeral a roast, so I have something to laugh at. =3

No seriously, do it.











Delicious toast.

--MURPHY--

Durf durf.

School brings about everything I thought it would, save that there is a LOT more construction than I thought would have been. They're are three new buildings I had no clue about, and the president's attempt to make NKU look less like a prison is flowered with artificial lakes, brighter colors and...well, flowers. It reeks like black and yellow tulips. Still looks like a prison, that will never change. The workload should be a moderate amount, so that doesn't worry me too much, since the requirements for my lit degree are already finished, and philosophy is winding down. I made the mistake of being in class from 10 AM to 9 PM on a Wednesday...very very very bad idea that needs must be corrected with a different class at a different time, now that other opportunities have opened up. Other than that, same commute, different bat time, same bat channel.

My major downfall is that the daily migraine ghost is visiting me yet again, and an eight-hour iron ball sat behind my left eye all day. No form de la aspirin helped, which kinda scares me. oO;; I hope I'm not dying or anything. Factors could be stress, worry, sleeplessness, anticipation, anything. You got me there.

Seems I owe a lot of people personal time, for instance, Bre, Lydi, Ka, Jouster, etc. We'll all have to try and work something out soon, I feel bad for never having any social time.

Sigh.

Nothing new to report...I guess. Go about your business.








--MURPHY--

It saddens me that the hand-written word is no longer something to look forward to. It's all emails and texts now. Doesn't anyone like receiving/writing letters and postcards anymore?

I traveled to NKU and Cincy yesterday to attend an advising appointment for school, as well as see mom, and my uncle in the hospital. The appointment was to reaffirm the classes I'm taking, so no money is wasted on my inability to plan--went well, but I reaaaallly think Dr. Miller is getting tired of looking at my mug. In Cincy, I spent more time than I would have liked: while I like seeing mom and my grandfather and all, the only things I'm aware of when I AM there is him nagging mom about buying things to keep the house nice, Kevin ruining everything, and just--how--much--mom talks about dad, the colossal asshole. I agree he is indeed a dick-wad when it comes to money, but...it's not worth debating over until we're all blue in the face. I'm sure she wants reassurance that she's a good mom, and did the right thing by wanting divorce after 35 years. Other than that, I did see my uncle [not birth uncle, but very very very close family friend] in the hopsital. He's gotten better, but crikey, he looks TERRIBLE. He used to be a jolly old chap, white hair slicked in a ponytail, prim, proper. Lying emaciated in the tiny hospital bed, I could count his ribs, one by one, and saw his bottom teeth had fallen out. The pustules in his stomach are still actively causing him to spit bile and puss up every few minutes. He nearly died two weeks ago, and seems to be slowly getting better...but chances of a complete relapse are 79% after he's done with therapy. If I lose the only family member that actually enjoys talking to me, I'm gonna be pretty depressed.

( Personal BS, cut for courtesy. )

So that's that, for the moment. I didn't mean to ramble on, I just...needed somewhere to get this all down. It had to be given voice, I guess.

In the meantime, FA is back up, finally--it's inspired me to upload more art and writing. I've got some stuff to ink, just need a day to get it all together.










No cheesy morals to this one.

--MURPHY--

An hour ago, I was dreaming about listening to a chick get raped outside of my bedroom window at dad's house. When I alerted him in the dream, he payed no mind, and said most people deserved things like that. And then I woke, and stared wide-eyed into the dark for about fifteen minutes.

And here I sit, too nervous to sleep...suppose it's time to rally up and go do something important.

FA finally came back online, which gave me mental reminders to get back to work on my projects. Strangely enough, I've been drawing and writing everyday--so the new junk is available for viewing, if you're in need of clawing your eyes out. Both writing and drawing is up, and I've got something in the works for today.

Workload:
"House of Dumb" various moments
Summer-themes
Cali-inspired doodles
Old Soul Woman insert

School in two weeks. GAWDDAYUM IT'S ALMOST OVER.

Have I the brainworms? Unrealistically, the chemicals in my head as of late have alerted me to feel morbidly self-conscious with nearly everything I do. I do everything in my earthly power to avoid embarrassment of a severe kind, and to avoid looking...well, frumpy, I guess. It's not so much as femininity rearing its ugly head, just...being wary. Perhaps it's from being around boys all the time? I understand the stupid nature of it, but like watching a train wreck, seems little to do. Is there a thing as being too careful? Any second now, life's going to pass by like a freight train with rocket boots. I doubt it's bio-clock BS, so the fight wages on.

Let's go be creative. And useful. Oh god forbid me from being USEFUL, you scaly layabout.











[It's a feeling like sky-blue and fresh laundry.]

--MURPHY--

So I'm totally going to do the stupid thing and update. While I'm drunk. Hee hee.

The trip went well, except for a few spats between friends. Nothing like fighting to strengthen the bond between friends! Yeah right, sure.

I'm double-checking this to make sure I don't make any typing errors.

Drinking is fun. ^^

Someone's about to get drunk-dialed like what, dood.

You should probably be drinking too, you ass. =3








--MURPHY---