The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

You know what sucks?

Getting up early sucks.

It really does! Getting up at 6:15 this week to get to school, after my whole summer, has been a huge, huge pain. Really, really frustrating. Especially on top of everything else depressing that’s going on.

But you know what? I get up so early because it helps me get things done, and I have gotten shit done. Lesson plans, grading, homework, shit gets done when I get my ass out of bed. I keep it up because of that, doing it again and again. It was really hard to get out of bed this morning, but in this time I’ve filled out paperwork, answered e-mail questions from my students, took an online quiz, and wrote this blog. It’s still two hours before I really have to be up to do anything, and I have plenty more I’m going to get done in that time.

I don’t know why mornings work so well for me, but they do. They feel like time I wouldn’t have otherwise, so it doesn’t feel like I’m burning any free time. It’s partially that, and partially the fact that, since I did this to myself, I might as well get some reward from it. I’m already out of bed. I might as well do something.

But yeah, mornings. Hi. Been awhile. Let’s work together this semester, shall we?

Okay, so. I figured out why I don’t like Flipflip.

My brother’s dog, Flapjack, is not an evil dog. He is not filled with evil feelings and such. He’s super-hyper, of course, as rat terriers tend to be, and that is kind of annoying. He also nips at me whenever I try to pet him. He also kicked me in the face and bloodied my lip. But he’s a dog, none of that is really serious.

It’s how mean he is to Molly, my Mom’s dog.

Now, I like Molly. I always say hi to her, pet her, and such. She’s pretty weird sometimes. Very picky about things. But she’s a nice dog.

Flapjack is being over here because Jonathan, Shauna, and Spantsinton are off doing their thing in Chicago. He runs around like a madman, and whenever I try to pet Molly, he will seriously climb on top of her, knock her over, and otherwise beat on her and make her growl and bite at him in anger, just to get me not to pay attention to her. This is so rude, and a complete dick move! And I do pet him, and say hi. At least, when he’s not trying to bite me. It’s not like I’m ignoring him.

That’s what makes me not like him. He’s keeping me from doing something I want to do, namely pet my dog. Everything else I can write off as being dog things. Hell, even him peeing everywhere when he’s nervous. He’s an animal, and that shit happens. But it’s just how he’s consciously keeping me from spending time with my dog. On purpose, stopping me. That’s what makes me unhappy.

But he’s still here all weekend! Oh well, my parents will take care of him. And I will do lesson plans. Joy of joys.

I’m on the verge.

It’s all coming to a head.

More overused metaphors.

I’m seriously so close. So very close.

Fuck.

The moment before is always the worst, you know? Once you get on stage, then it’s easy. Once things are out in the open, there’s no longer any problem. But until then, until you make that step… it’s painful. It’s crazy. It’s tough.

It’s very tough.

I’m going to make it through this, and I am going to be the better for it. Sometimes, I just need to tell myself that. Sometimes I need to keep myself going. Keep myself from running away. Locking myself in here, with this computer, and never coming out. But no, I don’t need to do that. I’m going to make it through this.

Fuck.

When I dream, which doesn’t happen often, it’s normally narrative.

What I mean by that is, oftentimes when I dream I understand that I am the narrator of a story, and I keep the story going in a way that makes sense for the characters, whether it be people I know, or some random shit my brain puked out. I often don’t remember all of the actual dream, or even much of it. What will happen, though, is that I will wake up, slightly, and continue the story as I have been. Without even thinking about it, my mind keeps going and narrating. Until I get fully awake, it can be hard to stop this. I get some kind of drowsy need to reach a stopping point in the story.

That’s all well and good when they’re good dreams. I could keep telling those for awhile, no problem. Lately, they haven’t been, though.

I’ve been having near-constant dreams about bad things happening to me in some regard. I lose someone. I scream at someone and get really mad. I lose something and go berserk. The other night, the dream was that I got my car stolen, right before some sort of fancy concert that Jonathan and Shauna were going to that I really wanted to attend. I was dealing with something with my parents up until the very last moment before I had to leave, and then I noticed my car wasn’t there. I had to work on getting it back, and I never got to go to the show. I was so angry.

And I woke up so angry.

Dreams are just too real sometimes… I don’t know, my mood is fragile enough these days. It annoys me that my subconscious is making me wake up feeling like shit again and again. It just makes me feel stupid and weak to be so upset by such things. Then again, I guess in a lot of ways I am. I crumble and crack and fall apart again and again. It’s silly.

I mean, I’ll survive. I have so far, somehow. I’ll make it. I guess I just wish it would be easier. And that something as simple as my dreams would co-operate with my plans.

I’ve been playing Persona 3 Portable, so I was once again struck by the most amazing of battle themes. No, not Mass Destruction. After the Battle, the fight victory music. Maybe this sounds weird, but this is by far my favorite bit of music in the game. Give it a listen while I ramble about it for a bit.

I feel like this little song is a success on so many levels. It fits perfectly with the whole music themes of the game for one. It has the sort of hip, pop-y sensibilities of the rest of the game in the guitar bits that come in after a little bit. It’s also completely functional battle victory music. But I feel like it does more than that. I feel like it reflects the themes of the game in general.

Most RPG victory tunes are extremely happy. I mean, you know, like, the classics of Final Fantasy. These songs say, “We did it, we won, everything is awesome now!” It’s a celebration of an accomplishment. Ironically, any single battle in most of those games ISN’T an accomplishment, even though it treats it like one.

Persona 3 takes a more sinister take. It’s darker. There’s a bit of that “we won” excitement, eventually, but that isn’t where it starts. It starts with a very dark little melody and goes downward. While Final Fantasy is trumpeting the victory from the heavens, Persona 3 is saying, “This is only the beginning.” The fight is over, but the battle has yet to be won. It’s pessimistic, like most of the game it’s around. Because, let’s face it, there’s always going to be another encounter. There’s always going to be another fight. The game knows it. It uses it.

I just find that refreshing, I guess. It’s different. This is the track, more than anything, that sticks out and stays with me from that game. (Well, besides Mass Destruction. Nobody can escape the BABY BABY BABY BABY BABY!)

I’ve been watching Spoony’s Wrestling Rants pretty religiously since he started them.

The question is, why am I doing this?

I have never, ever followed wrestling. I mean, I think I remember being sort of interested for an extremely short while as a child? At the very least, I know I went to see some sort of live WWF show at some point. Whether that was something I wanted to do or something my parents thought I’d enjoy, I honestly have no idea. I also remember having great times with the N64 WCW vs NWO game that everyone loved, because everyone loved it. Scantily-Clad Hulk Hogan was just going to kick some ass. That’s all there was to it.

And that’s basically my entire experience with professional Wrestling.

But I’m spending hours listening to these blow by blow readings of notes from the shows as they air now. Nothing I hear makes me actually want to watch the shows. Nothing about them makes them seem good, perse. I continue to watch. (Well, more listen, I tend to just put it on in the background.)

I mean, Spoony is a funny guy. I enjoy hearing him talk about things, even completely unscripted like that. That’s certainly part of it. I think more of the reason I watch, though, is just the passion he puts into these breakdowns. He is very passionate about wrestling, and is annoyed to see it in the garbage. I’ve been that sort of fan before, who was loving something, and saw it fall apart in front of them. (Let’s say, as an example… Harry Potter as J. K. Rowling developed protection from editors and started doing dumb things.) I have been there. Granted, I can’t remember being there with something that constantly ups and downs week after week like this wrestling obsession seems to. But it’s a sort of love/hate that I think all people have about something, whether it be a show or, say, a sports team I’d guess, if you were the kind of person who enjoyed a sporting event. It’s a very natural, real sort of feeling. It’s very, very relatable, even though I only vaguely know what Spoony is talking about half the time. (A lot of the names I get are from my playing through of the excellent TNA iPhone Wrestling RPG.)

So I keep watching and listening and absorbing more knowledge about wrestling than I ever thought I’d know. I suppose that’s alright.

Apparently my server is going crazy! People are trying to fix it and such, but who knows when things will be working. I’m told I’m posting this in a small window of working-ness. If you’re seeing this, things didn’t get working in time for me to finishing writing a blog for today. I know you all are very sad about that. But hey, news of Server issues, that’s an exciting blog, right?

At the very least, my host continues to be awesome and completely helpful on the customer service side, so I can’t complain there. Seriously, they always amaze me with how good their tech support and service is.

It’s probably okay to take a little break anyway. Stress and tiredness… totally fantastic and down on me. So, you know. This will work.

I’ve got two solid story ideas right now.

The only problem is that they are two solid furry porn story ideas.

Both of them sound like a lot of fun. One is Brer’s fault, whether he likes it or not. Both would potentially focus on characters and actual potential romance. Both would have the fucked-up kinks I enjoy without being all raep tyme like most stories involving them are. I mean, I do think they’re very solid furry porn story ideas.

But let’s face it: I’ve been so out of it I’ve been having trouble keeping up with this blog every day. I don’t think I’ve really been doing a great job with that either. Writing something, putting effort into something like that, where I couldn’t share it with most of the people I know, just really bothers me. Writing is work. It’s work I find rewarding, but it is work. Putting that much work into a story like that, when I could be working on other things… my brain won’t let me do it.

I don’t want to come off like I’m belittling people who write good erotica. I appreciate a good erotic story, certainly, and there’s definitely a strong craft to it and nothing at all wrong with it. I just don’t feel like that’s a strong point of my own writing. Additionally, I feel like the people who work on those things are people who have a readerbase made up of people who don’t care about that sort of thing. I could share these stories with, I dunno… Brer, Kale, Ecks… maybe Cris if she wanted to read. That’s basically it. As much as I enjoy those people and love them, it wouldn’t really be a story for them. It’s really all about my kinks. They’d be nice and read it, and hopefully like it, but I wouldn’t be doing them a favor.

I just really have, and always have had, problems motivating myself on issues about myself. This is a me thing, writing these stories, so I can’t get myself motivated. If I was about someone else, they’d already be written. I know it.

They’re really good ideas, though. Sometime, maybe, I’ll let them out. Or maybe not.

I walked downstairs, and my mother was crying. I, of course, asked her what was wrong. It turned out that she was looking at music for the Mother/Son dance at Jonathan’s wedding, and thinking about it made her cry. A good cry, certainly. The idea that her youngest son was getting married, though, was pretty overwhelming. It’s a crazy thought.

It’s a crazy thought.

I responded by jokingly saying that it was all his fault for growing up.

But you can’t stop that.

I’ve tried to stall my life for years. Hold back things that I knew I should be doing because they were so stressful. Even now, now that I’m in the thick of them, they’re so stressful that I can barely get out of bed in the morning. Yet, times goes on, my life goes on, and I have to move on. Just like Jonathan has to move on with his life, I have to move on with mine. It’s exciting, and scary, and sad, and wonderful, but it is. It’s something that is inevitable.

More and more, when I think about Jonathan and his wedding, I tend to think of more domestic things. Wanting to settle down, find a steady job I won’t have to leave, have a certain boyfriend there. I think domestic. I think future. I think it’s good, because before, it was always just about transitioning. Now I am on the cusp, it’s nearly here, and I find my mind moving to other things. The sort of things I’m sure my parents would have rather me have been thinking about the whole time. It’s nice. It’s also a totally new feeling. One I worry about having. But that’s probably normal. That’s more normal than I’ve been in a long while.

I admitted the other day that “I’m rarely fine.” Brer said that that was shockingly honest. I am rarely fine. I’m depressed all the time. But things are moving forward. Things are happening. I need to remind myself that things are in motion (I freudianed “emotional” there first) that are going to help. Things are going to get better.

Time will move forward, and things will get better. Different, yes. But sometimes that isn’t so bad. Sometimes you have to cry about your son getting married to enjoy the cool stuff that brings.

I am so tired.

I don’t mean physically, though I suppose I am pretty tired physically as well. I’m just tired of being depressed, and tired of feeling like my family is against me. I’m tired of not feeling safe, I suppose. I’m tired of having to force myself to buy that I can do this. I’m tired.

I’m tired.

I guess it’s not too surprising. I get this way every once and awhile. I just want to hide in bed and never come out for a few weeks or months, so maybe I could feel better. I can’t, of course. Way, way too much to do. Always too much to do. But it would be nice, wouldn’t it? A bit of vacation. A bit of rest. It would be nice.

In the back of my mind, I know I’m things the right way. I know I’m getting closer. I know I will survive this and be happier for it. I know that many, many things are happening that I never would have imagined happening before, and that I am so damn close I should be able to taste it. It’s just so hard for information like that to make it through all that tired. I’ve been waiting for this stuff for way, way too long.

Sorry… I just needed to complain a little, I guess… things will soon be back in full swing. I’ll be working at school so much I won’t have any free time at all… but I know I’ll make it. I just wish I could convince myself of that sometimes.