Suicidal Snowflakes

Just because I have a short attention span doesn\’t mean I…

Cuteness beyond all cute

Went to see my grandparents in MD this weekend.  Ended up staying the night even tho we didn’t intend to… blew a tire on the way home. That was exciting and ruined our plans of going to Antedem (or however you spell it).

My grandmother’s not doing too well.  She’s in stage 4 Alzheimers, so she’s a handful.  Their room at my uncle’s house is really nice.  I love how they’ve rennovated the whole down stairs.  Great job with the whole thing.  My cousin’s kids are just too adorable.  My cousin makes cute kids.

Mom discovered dad’s blog.  Not sure what he had on it, but mom stormed out of the house and I dont kno what happened after that, only that most of the content is down off of his Myspace account.  Which is mest up.  My dad has a myspace account LOL.

Anyways, to make up for that craziness, I present something so cute you may hurl:


Nauseous yet?? I know.  If there had been a baby bunny on that bench with the kittens and ducklings, I’d have just died of cute overdose.


January 15, 2007 Posted by | Family & Friends, Photos | 1 Comment


First I’d like to start with this bit of amusingness:

It’s like… a Bubble Wrap Dalek or something.  what’s it going to do? pop me to death?

Ok.  Yesterday was like Dr Who overload. Finally watched Sun’s ep of Torchwood and then there was the DW christmas special.  OMG.  Owen and the Doctor are poster boys for not handling loss of loved ones well.  Like… seriously.  The DW episode was funny, just emo enough for a dude that’s lost his best girl.  All the functional character development stuff was just so necessary and spot on.  SO glad they didn’t do that ‘thing’ where the person goes away and is never discussed again.  When the Doctor says Rose’s name at the end, it just breaks your widdle fangirl heart.  To quota a small child I know… Wose and da Doctah forebbah and ebbah. And back to Torchwood–SO sorry but Gwen made me laugh and laugh.  She’s messed up her life so badly, and it’s all her own doing LOL.   I mean, I sympathise and stuff, might have even made some of the bad decisions she has, but basically she’s buttered her bread 🙂

Uh… what else? got fuzzy bunny slippers of rassilon, er I mean Monty Python killer bunny slippers.  And rollerblades. My husband really wants to cash in on my life insurance policy LOL.  Seriously, he’s like ‘you can’t use these till you have knee pads! and Im like.. i concur.  I’m so clumsy. But I’ve always waned ’em and now I have ’em 🙂

Uh… uh… can’t think of anything else.  My stock pot decided to be defective yesterday and start leaking water, which sucked.  Everybody liked the food tho, despite the mashed potato emergency.

December 26, 2006 Posted by | Family & Friends, Holiday, Nerdology | Leave a comment

I am roxor111

Ok, i got my husband stuff that’s so awesome I may die from it.  I can’t say it here on the off chance that he actually reads my blog.  Or, like, turns around from what he’s doing right now and reads over my shoulder (again, slim chance but still).  And I got my sibs somethin so awesome I can’t even say in the off chance that one of them reads this. I’m feeling so awesome right now I can’t contain myself and there’s no one to tell of my vast awesomeness.  sigh.

December 24, 2006 Posted by | Family & Friends, Holiday | Leave a comment

James’ butt

James’ butt

Originally uploaded by battybeyond.

Yeah. My brother, my sister, my husband’s butt.

November 17, 2006 Posted by | Family & Friends, Photos | Leave a comment

SO disappointed in myself.

I hung up the phone with my dad (who called of his own accord just to “see how I was doing”), and turned to my husband and said… “Why was I civil with him?” I’m so pissed about what he did with my mum’s car I really wanted to tell him I didn’t want to talk to him again until he straightened himself out.  But when I got on the phone, i realized being civil would make him get off the phone faster and make me have to deal with him less.  I’m SO passive-aggressive.  I’m just gunna blow up at him one day.  And that day’ll be… cathartic. Till then… I’m a weak jerk for even talking to him.

August 10, 2006 Posted by | Family & Friends | 3 Comments

I’ll be good.

I promise not to post like crazy madness again.  James said I made too many posts on the 23rd.

I’ll be good.

Lets see… stuff…

1) Still hating food. But I was actually hungry today, and I might be hungry now (I’m not sure–I’ll haveta meditate deeply on it)

2) Still hating getting in between my parents little spats.  Look, dad’s a d-ck.  And I don’t mean Grayson.  Just don’t talk to him.  If you don’t talk to him, and you let your lawyer do all the talking, then you won’ thave to get all mad that he’s a d-ck.  I mean, you’re divorcing him because he’s a d-ck, right?? GOD.  I’m mostly bitter that my mom hasn’t figured this out for 27 years and  doesn’t behave accordingly.  As if her being nasty or playing martyr will somehow convince him that he’s a d-ck.  ARRG.  Don’t get me involved, and don’t forward or CC me on any mails you send him or his replies.  I. Don’t. Care.  I’ve written him off.  You should too.
3) Haaaate.

4) I enjoy making kids in other countries cry.  I laugh when I get emails from them about how mean I am to fictional characters and why can’t I just be a nice person.  They’re little the petals of little flowers from heaven.

5) If Inyuasha just whacked kagome around, the chick’d learn her place, man.  Why’s he let his woman go runnin’ around in that hot little sailor school girl getup? With her legs showing like that? Isn’t this feudal japan?? Oh who’m I kidding? He’s so whipped.  She says sit, and he throws himself to the ground for her.  How pathetic.  How domestic.

6) My brother is roxor!!11.  He did my lawn and chopped up my tree which fell during the last storm.  I owes him the monies of course, but I’d never have time to do that on my own, with school and everything. My sisters are roxor in training for helping him.

7) Stuff.

8) Cows go moo and ducks go quack.

July 27, 2006 Posted by | Crazy and/or Weird, Family & Friends | Leave a comment

…But wait, there’s more.

Subtitle: My ovaries were just ripped out by 8-foot tall ninjas!

I’d JUST gotten done with my whole spiel on here about how freaking nuts my family is… right? And I go home, and I’m getting ready to do the good and righteous thing in the eyes of the Lord (homework, not blow things up, but he likes that too)…and the phone rings. Any time the phone rings after 11pm, it’s trouble. It’s never someone asking how your day was, whats up, wanna do something on the weekend? It’s never the call from Publisher’s Clearinghouse. Or even a good prank call. Oh no. It has to be someone being crazy.

Mom asks if my STUPID SISTERS made it over my house in one piece. I say no… I just got home five minutes ago, no one’s here. That’s the only sentence I will be able to get in for apx 20 minutes of her ranting and raving. Just when you think she cant get any crazier… or in some cases, that she’s actually getting saner… she goes and kicks it up a notch.

I can’t even get into the intricasies of this whole spat that ultimately resulted in two of my sisters storming out of the house, and Mary’s glasses being broken. Finally, I managed to excuse myself (and EXCUSE is the right word. Mom’s harder to get off the phone than Great Grandma, and that woman could talk up a storm). When I come upstairs, James has let mary in, and she’s eating a concilatory popcicle (we had a few other flavors too: repugnance, remorse, antagonism and malcontent, but the concilatory popsicles were purple and red). She has NO idea where Jenn went. Mary’s glasses are nowhere in site. Aparently mom whacked them off her face and broke them.

It was a bit upsetting in that “flashbacks to when I was a kid” sort of way. Waa. Whine. Anyways… We bitched about mom for a while (where two or more B—-‘s are gathered, complaining of mom will ensue).

James got sick of the complaining and went upstairs to “do homework.” I was in the middle of telling Mary that I bet mom’d come over, because she doesn’t have anyone at home to fight with, and the phone rang. Thankfully it was just Charlie. He wanted to know where the girls were. He also complained loudly for many minutes on the favorite topic of choice.

He aparently yelled at her about the chicken… I guess that’s how the whole thing started. Mom told Jenn to make the chicken earlier last night, and she didn’t.  Mom should have known she wouldn’t.  I mean… why’re you mad at someone for doing something you KNEW they wouldn’t do? Jenn didn’t do it, she came home from prayer group, she was hungry, it was like 10pm and she flipped out.

can i have a moment? Yeah… subdiatribe moment, here.  Ok.  There’re many things a grownup has to do for him or herself.  One of these things is making sure you eat regularly.  I don’t feel sorry for mom when she whines about how she didn’t have anything to take for lunch, or she didn’t have time to make one, or how she was too busy to eat dinner, bla bla bla. Ok, you’re a grownup.  You’re in charge of making your own schedule.  Quit acting like you’re a victim of your life.  If you need to make dinner before you go to prayer group at 7pm, then you need to do that.  Don’t eat lunch at noon, then not even start thinking about having dinner until you’re ravinous at 10pm.  That’s just childish.  Having the occational crazy day where you don’t have time to eat, or stuff popping up out of the blue and you don’t have time to cook–that’s one thing.  But this is like every day with my mom.  And she expects everyone else to make food for her.  Everyone should just know she’s hungry or that she’ll need to eat, and cook for her.  Because she works so dang hard and her life is so difficult.  Spare me.  I manage to either nuke a frozen dinner or slap a sandwich together three times a day and I work and go to school.  You have time for what you make time for.  And I’m not saying make time to exercise or journal or clean or whatever.  I’m saying… make time to eat.  Don’t put that responsibility onto someone else because you don’t want to think about it.  Everybody has to do it three times a day.  Next youo’ll be bitching because someone else can’t poop for you, or it takes up too much timje out of your day.  I know being a martyr is time consuming… but indulge me.

OK.  What the hell was I saying about chicken? Well, my brother is convinced the catholic church is evil, because mom always goes to prayer group and choir and stuff, instead of staying home and taking  care of the stuff that she complains about all the time. I tried to explain that it’s not like the catholic church makes her nuts or makes her behave the way she does–grandpap’s an athiest and he’s nuts too. It’s not like the presence or absence of religion alone will determine if you’re just freaking out there or not.

Chicken.  I haven’t had my adderol yet, what do you expect? So she did the martyr thing and started making the chicken herself at 10pm.  Because life is so cruel.  She couldn’t just make a sandwich and go to bed, and better luck with the chicken tomorrow.  She gets it in the oven and she’s complaining about how she’s tired, and my brother yells at her that she’d better just stay down there and watch the chicken.  My mother’s pulled this shit too many times.  Then she either wakes you up to watch food that she made because she was hungry, but now won’t eat because she’s sleepy, or she forces you to stay up to begin with.  We come back to that personal responsibility thing.  No her kids arn’t perfect with it, and they’re also not particularly good with listening or contributing, but that’s because that stuff comes from the top down.  They have a really shitty example right now. And she’ll never admit they need a third party to sit down and work all this chaotic home stuff out.  There’s no clear chain of command, no clear list of priorities, no clear list of who is in charge of what, and when, there’s no clear indication of what’s going on with whom, and when.  They do everything, every single day by the seat of their pants.  So and so has to be somewhere at 7.  You never know if mom’ll be done with her last thing in time to take you, you never know WHO istaking you… then if there’s a monkey wrench thrown in there somewhere (like getting stuck in traffic on the way home) your whole day falls apart, and you usually need me or someone else (like dad) to bail you out. Akk.  I overbook myself… but I learned it from watching you.  And I’m at least getting better.

My brother can’t take it any more.  And I kind of wish he’d just move out.  But he’ll just yell at her. I almost laughed when he said he’d ordered her to stay down there with the chicken.  He, of course, went on and on about how she drives him nuts, how they all antagonize each other constantly, and how mom has to be the center of attention all the time.

Hetold me that he couldn’t even have a headache and have it be his own.  He had a migrane one night and she asked why he was making faces, so he told her.  So mom of course said yeah I have a migrane too, it makes me sick to my stomach and I think I’m going to throw up.

Charlie says “God! She always has to outdo me! If I told her I’d been castrated, she’d somehow manage to do me one better.”

And I blurted out “Oh yeah? Well my ovaries were ripped out by ninjas!”

Mary hadn’t heard anything else in the conversation, but she heard that and burst out laughing.  Charlie didn’t laugh–he just said yeah, that’s exactly how it’d be! all angry like.

So anyways… somehow miraculously mom did not show up and get all grrr and yelly and stuff.  Mary slept over our house.  I guess she went back home or ran away or something, cuz she wasn’t here when we got back later in the morning, and I haven’t talked to anyone since.

Can’t we just put a moritorium on acting crazy??? PLEASE???

July 7, 2006 Posted by | Angst, Family & Friends, Unwashed Masses | 1 Comment

Totally not getting my homework done.

I’ve decided to lie to myself and tell myself that I’m just waiting for the Adderol to kick in. Better living through pharmicology.  Actually, booze helps me abstract, and thats what’s been missing from this whole long, drawn out and tortured process of writing six lousy abstracts for four lousy articles.  SWEAR. Getting it done tonight (Aww, who the hell am I kidding).

Anyways… what inspired this avoidance?? Well, trying to explain to Full-Bodied Joel just what fun he missed by not coming to my house.  It’s such a long tale.

Lets begin this little event here with a sub-diatribe.  Yes, my rants have mini rants imbedded in them.  And then rants in the footnotes of my rants as well.  It’s like trying to divide something in half until there’s nothing left. It can’t be done.

Anyhow. The sub-diatribe.

We celebrate the founding of our country, the sacrifice of our forefathers and the sacrifice of our military (I’m thinkin’ Independance Day, Memorial Day, kinda-sorta Labor Day) by killing animals and roasting them over an open flame whilst we drink beer, wear  shorts that look unnatural on us and server to do nothing other than accentuate the pastiness of our seldom-bared legs.  We get together with friends and family, watch some fireworks, maybe a parade, but mostly it’s beer and bbq sauce and animal flesh.  Not a whole lot of talk about the foundation of our country, the sacrifices that have been made or the nature of freedom.  We’ve kind of gotten away from using the holiday as a time to reflect on why the bank’s freaking closed today.

Why’s the bank closed today? Because today we eat animals and blow things up (which is good and righteous in the eyes of the Lord–the blowing up thing…eating animals is too, but God likes to watch stuff explode.  Like that one time on Myth Busters, with the cement truck which would have only been more awesome if they’d have shot it with high speed film instead of their crappy tv cameras.  God likes to watch stuff blow up. For real), in celebration of our independance from the only country we still like (to quote whichever one of Glenn’s producers that came up with that clever little CG).   It’s completely true.

So while I was poking the coals in my habachi (I can’t wait to get out of grad school and get a house and get a real freaking grill), I contemplated our freedom to watch Brittan’s way better TV, like the original version of Coupling and Dr Who (whom I [heart] in a special way, oodles of noodles), I got an instant message from my sister.

See, we’re getting back into my real diatribe, which is my crazy freaking family, which I’m going to write a book about.  For real. And make money off of.  Dear God… I DESERVE to make money off of this kind of insanity. If nothing else to pay the therapy bills.

So. She says that my grandfather called from MD just to “let us know” that Nana fell on the floor and Ralph was at a party, so she was going to stay on the floor until Ralph came home.  OK.  Where do we start?

1) They’ve been there for three days, and he’s already in trouble. Betcha he wishes he’d have stayed close, where he had two kids that’d come at his beck and call and another annoying kid whom I blessidly am no longer obligated to speak to, now that I’m not seeing her over my grandparents’ house all the time.

2) You’re so senile and nuts.  I mean, he was always nuts, but the senility is a new twist. Instead of calling Ralph’s cell phone (and I knows he’s gots one, working where he works), which he MUST have been given the phone number to, he calls US.  I’m so glad you’re  thinking clearly in this time of crisis.

3) I betcha he expects one of us to hop in the car and drive 4 hrs down there to help him lift Nana off the floor.  He’s nuts like that, and he’s got all this weird obligation type behavior he attaches to things.

4) Call a freaking ambulance.  Don’t just let her lay on the floor for God knows how many hours until Ralph and Hilde get home.

5) Betcha part of the reason why he called is because he’s been down there THREE FREAKING DAYS and mom hasn’t called him.

a) sub diatribe time:  sincerest apologies to my husband who complains when I say “someone” needs to do something, then I yell at him for not doing it. I suddenly realized what was wrong with this picture when, on Sunday night, mom got a bit nasty and said “SOMEBODY” needs to call your grandfather and make sure they got settled in OK.  Someone meaning me, since I’m the only one that has long distance.   Of course, I’m just expected to magically do this, even though I don’t have their number, or the time, and it’s 1:30 in the morning and I have to be at work at 8am.

Ok, back to the main rant:

I’m talking to Mary over AIM some more.  Pipes in the kitchen burst, dad’s over the house fixing the sink.  My parents haven’t mastered this whole being divorced thing. If the other person makes you angry and pisses you off so much you’re divorcing them, just don’t spend time with them.  It’s that simple.  It saves us having to listen to all of your bloviating.

Bloviation… we have a few quiet moments, then Mary informs me that mom’s psycho.  Like I didn’t know.  She says she just found out that my grandmother fell and my grandfather is leaving her on the floor (doesn’t this just have the bitter tang of insanity/SweetTarts?).  So she flips out and panics.  Mary says yes, yes, we all knew this.  I don’t know who called whom, but she ended up on the phone with my grandfather, screaming at him and saying she hoped he died over and over.  She gets off the phone with my grandfather and is throwing things at my dad screaming about how she’s going to poison him and all this stuff.

…So, no idea what happened after that, but an hour or so later, Mary and Jenn show up.  I guess they were fleeing the insanity.

Betcha my brother’s really freaking happy that he worked open/close yesterday for the holiday.


Can’t we just put a freaking moritorium on acting crazy?? You can BE crazy without ACTING crazy.  I’m sure of it. I’ve managed it for YEARS.   Which is tough with all the complexes these people have given me.

And what the hell is with being ESPECIALLY crazy on holidays?? My mom has ALWAYS done this.  She gets angry and screams constantly and throws things on holidays.  It’s like clockwork… the day before she gets panicy and yells and screams at everyone to clean up.  Then the day of, when you have things under control, she starts interfering and messing things up, and picking fights with people intentionally.  Or if things’re under control, but the house isn’t perfect, she starts screaming about THAT all over again, and making everyone a nervous wreck.  She’s always so angry and shook up that she can’t even HELP, all she does is scream at everyone else to get it done.  I’ve tried liquering her up first, to no effect.  I’m thinking of braking open a few benadryl and slipping ’em into her coffee first thing in the morning or something.

Doesn’t it ever get boring, being an angry violent screamer? Doesn’t the paranoia laced with martyrdom ever get old?

July 5, 2006 Posted by | Family & Friends, School, Unwashed Masses | 1 Comment

This morning…

this morning i had this really weird feeling.  It wasn't a feeling so much as believing, even for a few moments that something was true.  Like you had your entire weekend planned out, then you remembered… holy crap, I have to go to school, or this family reunion… I've been talking about it all month, how could I forget it was two days from now!?  That kind of feeling. 

I had this flash, like it was perfectly normal and concievable that I was taking off saturday and monday (I'm off mondays, I don't know why I thought this) for a funeral.  I even reminded myself, in my head, which portion of the time sheet to fill out for it. I could see it in my mind's eye. It was so weird.  Maybe it was a hold-over of my mom telling me how my grandmother wasn't doing too well, and how mom's nurse-friend suggested that the symptoms were consistant with a degenerative heart failure.

On monday or so, I was thinking to myself… I wonder what'll happen when Ms Forsythe passes away.  She doesn't seem to have any family in the area, I wonder if we'll be called and told this. A weird thought, yeah. Kind of morbid too.  I had the whole internal monolgue going on about this sort of thing. What was I thinking? She was old and wrinkly, but she also had a ton of spunk left in her.  she had that "go get 'em" laugh.  Shutup, I told myself.  She won't be around forever, but it's not something you have to worry about any time soon. And besides, her dadlived till he was 93.  She was from good stock and would probably still be alive when I left Pittsburgh to start my next adventure in life.  I'd probably hear about her passing from some place in the midwest where I'd be insulated by time and distance. Why was I even thinking about this? Who thinks about how it'll be when someone dies, anyway? 

Later on Monday she called to reschedule my Tuesday appointment.  She had a funeral for a friend's mother to go to.  The woman had been in her 90's, and they were close; the woman would call her every sunday from the old folks' home.  She apologized to me, explaining she'd grown up with this family and she couldn't miss the funeral home or the funeral.  I told her I completely understood, and I was sorry for HER, she didn't need to apologise to me.  We rescheduled for Friday.  She said she had a meeting with an advertiser at 1:30, but she didn't anticipate it taking more than half an hour, so could I come in at 2pm. 

 She's never had advertising before.  It's kind of cool that she's branching out into this new place and trying something different, or maybe that's just how the little ad that's in the phone book gets there every year.   

Today I got a call from a lady who said she was "from" the McGrail school of voice.  I was like yeah, ok, uhhuh whatever.  This lady sounded very young.  I wondered if the advertising thing was part of an expansion move on her part, and this lady was part of that.  I remembered the  last time I called about a week ago, and there was a young lady's voice on the answering machine, not Ms. Forsythe, who's voice sounded a bit saturated with whiskey and cigarett smoke (whether this was the case or not, I can't say–it just sounded that way), and I wondered how the heck that had gotten there. 

really, it always takes longer to tell than it takes to happen–all this went on in the space between the woman saying she was from the school of voice and that my appointment friday and all future appointments were cancled, Ms.  Forsythe had passed away.  "wow" was about all I could manage. I know it isn't the greatest, but it was all i could muster.  We spoke for a few more minutes, and I was just in absolute shock.  I mean, I shouldn't have been, it felt like I was dwelling on this all week, but I was.

A friend from choir has known Ms Forsythe since, like, the 50's, and when I called her to tell her, she was as shocked as I was.  It was kind of a relief to know that I wasn't the only one that was STUNNED that an old lady had died.  

It's all very very weird.  I guess it's going to take some time to process.  

that she'd passed away this morning.  Aparently it was a heart attack and they were unable to revive her.  I got

June 8, 2006 Posted by | Family & Friends | 1 Comment

Oh yeah…

BTW.  Totally wasn't on my mind at all to blog about.  Mom and dad had their little court date today.  He insisted on driving her down.  Which is weird and stupid.  I don't think either of them have quite mastered the purpose of a divorce. Mom's lawyer ran him through the wringer.  He was so pissed he told her to find her own ride home.  Poe baby hasta pay 1/3 of his pay in support.  So completely not full of sympathy.  Whatever.  I'm so over this whole divorce thing.  James knows the only way out of this marriage is in a pine box.  It takes all the pressure off right there. 

June 7, 2006 Posted by | Angst, Family & Friends | 1 Comment