Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

Once again, memoirs was attacked, and this time I had to completely overhaul wordpress (as you can see by the new layout, I can’t find the rose one anymore). I will be looking into moving my sites, but no idea how quickly or if this will even fix the problem.

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

Did someone send a memo to the world that manners are no longer accepted?!

And I’m not just talking about idiot rappers, congressmen or tennis players. I mean normal, every day people.

I was at McDonald’s tonight and they were SLAMMED, both inside and in the drive-thru. So most (okay, all but one woman) were waiting patiently for our food, the one woman decided that after, at the most five minutes of waiting, she was going to (loudly) yell at the poor guy trying to take orders and get food that she had been waiting ‘fifteen minutes for her food” and “how dare she have to wait that long” (no, I’m not making that up). She then proceeded to get on her cellphone (after reciving her food a minute after that), and disturb everyone else again, by loudly complaining to whomever the hell she was talking to about the service and how they were now “so late”.

And it’s not only random strangers who are mannerless irritents to my day, no, I get the joy of getting mannerless…ARG…people emailing me their rudeness! Now, I’m not one who minces words online, and I am quite aware of the ‘asshole’ effect the internet has, but please, use some tact.

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

Post a picture in my comments of what you think describes me when you think about what/who I am. Give no written explanation. Just an image.

Post this in your journal and see what images you get.

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

…I have to find a way to combine The 7th Guest video game, The Haunted Mansion ride plot and Detective Conan/Magic Kaito into one cohesive fanfiction, all by mid-October.

…and for some reason yelling “Dear God why?!” at the cealing doesn’t help.

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

Hmm, lots of shit going on around here all of a sudden…which is probably why I’m suffering exaustion at the moment (emotional and physical…which means nothing is getting accomplished).

Mum and I were talking the other day, and she was whining that her Uriologst wasn’t going to tell her anything until January, when all the testing was done, during which, she still had to endure pain and bleeding. I countered with the fact that if anything was seriously wrong, her doctor would get a hold of her before that. She, of course, didn’t believe me.

…until the next morning when the doctor called at the ass crack of dawn to schedule imediate surgery for a cyst on her kidney found during her CAT Scan. *smacks forehead* I do actually know what I’m talking about!

So mum’s on bed rest…which was fun for me, as I have to take care of her. I don’t like playing fetch *pouts* Also throws off me sleeping as she’s up longer then I usually am. I think she discovered how stressed out I am between worring about her and taking care of her, when I burst into tears one day when she asked for dinner (no, I don’t know why I did that, I just did).

Tonight, she leaves for a week in Eugene, to go to her back dr appointment, and have her kidney surgery. It’ll be nice, to get some time to decompress, before starting the stress cycle all over again.

My grandmother is a complete bitch (not that this is news to longtime visitors *grins*). For the past two weeks (er, the past two before last weekend), Mum and I literally destroyed ourselves getting that stupid yard sale going. Our shoulders are STILL hurting from moving shit around. The only reason we did this to ourselves, was Grandmere swore up/down/sidwaise that we would get half of the total take of the sale.

…which was around 600$, quite a nice chunk of change for two people who had an outstanding electric bill and an upcoming holiday to save for.

So the sale’s going great, and Grandmere comes down on the second day to see how things are going…and promptly takes 400$ (what we had at the time) and leaves. Mum asks here later about spltting the money and magically…Grandmere has no idea what mum’s talking about and requests the rest of the money from Day Two.

as;oivjoefoejvj! Bitch!

And then she has the kindness to loan us the money for the electrical bill. Anyone wonder why I hate her? Seriously?

…my fingers hurt, stupid arthritis.

As for the previous post…mum and I talked about it later that night and came to an understanding, though things have only improved slightly. Though mum now understands why I constantly complain of being in pain after she had to spend two days in pain. I told her to try imagining spending weeks or months at a time in that same bed and then imagine the pain and she’d come close to where I am. She said she couldn’t imagine it and can’t understand how I can deal with it day in and day out. I reminded her that if it’s all you know, you learn to deal. *shrugs*

For those on Twitter, I’ve finally gotten into the grove on it, feel free to come see what insanity is my every random thought.

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

So my mother has been harping on me for the past month or so that ‘we’ need to clean out the garage to get ready for the yard sale that will never happen (because the chances of my mother, my grandmother and Debbie speaking to each other at any given time is limited to nill).

Now, I hate the garage, it’s dirty, dusty, filled with cobwebs and other things that are better off buried. But I’m tired of listening to her whine so I start working on it (what happened to ‘we’, lady?), and realize just why I’ve left those boxes, bags and cupboards alone for so long.

The ghosts of the past are not easily laid to rest, and it hurts, quite a bit of the time, to watch pieces of my life fall away.

I’m a pack rat, I save almost everything of the slightest bit of meaning, pictures, postcards, letters, and those things I expected to be emotional about. But the small things…an old collectible card, a HP magazine article…those things hurt just as badly, representing a time in my life that’s over and that I can’t go back to. A part of my life buried in a dusty box, waiting for me to decide if it’s worth keeping.

So, as I’m going through this very painful process of sorting through my past and determining it’s worth…my mother starts whining I have to stop working on the garage and now have to organize the house…because some how everyone thinks it’s appropriate enough to drop things off here for the yard sale (and a bunch of crap we got from Grandmere moving).

And I can’t just stop and work on the house…because if I stop, I won’t start again. It’s so painful to even touch some of these items, let alone think about what they mean.

I just wish she’d give me some time, to finish this very painful journey so I can put it behind me.

…I finally threw away my phlebotomy textbook…I don’t know how I feel about that. Kept the X-mas cards from HPfGU’s though (and for some reason the BTVS collectible cards from Robin…I really should throw those away).