hoody, hoody. hoo

A lot has happened since I last blogged, though it was my intention when I created this site to continue the never-ending journal on the edge of time that got me raped by the Alfalfa High gang. Sure, it was only a figurative rape, but having my private stuff discussed at a drunken party by a lot of frat-rats & subsequently being tricked into drinking a whole mess of vodka on top of 4 purple micro-dots for the sin of exasperating VADIS does constitute a kind of rape, as my psychiatrist noted.

So Cathy is gone. You may rememeber her from previous posts, always bubbly & willing to help. She's moving to Pennsylvania to be with her other children & left yesterday around 1:00 on Amtrak. She did give me an address.

Trish's period is causing her problems again. It finally started, almost a month late, probably due to a med change. Last night she nearly quit her job as she has problems with this other guy at work. He rides her until all the trays are done, even if she's supposed to go home. The other bosses let her leave on time, so she becomes confused. Karen (not Dave's Relationships) told her that, if they keep doing this, she should report it to the head boss. She wants to raise her hours again, but has to ok it with the doctor Monday.

If you don't have your copy yet, buy The Mind-Warp Era, under my pen name W.C. Leadbeater, available at www.amazon.com. What's it about? The lunatic is on the grass!

waiting for the girly-girl

So yesterday I had a cold; went to the buckadingdong store to pick up some daytime. Everything at the buckadingdong store is a buck, except it's not a buck a Ding-Dong; you get 2 Ding-Dongs for a buck.

Trish is currently searching for some clean clothes before taking her shower. I had to drag her out of bed again at almost 9:00, but then, she woke up at 6:00 the preceding morning, plus Perky Pam put a spike into her vein full of 100 mg.s of haldol, & that'll put anyone to sleep; I know, I've tried it.

Mostly, I'm waiting for her to finish her shower so I can share the email her dad sent her. It's good to hear from him again.

revenge of the random enumerations

Dangerous Vision

OK, so the Invisible Hog edited a book that I once admired highly, until e insulted me, so at this point I feel it isn't as good as The Mind-Warp Era (by W.C. Leadbeater). I'm not here this morning to talk about everyone's favorite Harley, though--the point of the title is that my glasses disappeared. I'm currently wearing an old pair, which is even worse than the 20/50 I normally achieve in the eye I'm not blind in.

I woke up yesterday, along with Trish, about 7:00 AM & we took a shower together; here come the warm jets. When I left the bathroom, I went to put on my watch & glasses on the nightstand, where I usually put them. The watch was there, but the glasses were missing. The first thing I did was look under the bed & behind the dresser; no luck. Next, we tried the bathroom; no luck there, either. We spent about an hour before Church looking & finally called Cathy to look when she cleans.

After Mass we both went out to Taco Loco for some Crazy Nachos. When we came back Cathy called while we were watching the Buffster stake vampires. She said she could stop by after awhile to look, which she did & concluded what we had: the glasses have to be in the house somewhere, but we have no idea where. Then I went thru my documents drawer, right above the comic book drawer, & found my old pair. Trish still wanted to watch the glass teat (we have another glass teat in the basement), but I decided to see if I could function with the spare pair, so I checked my email & then wrote awhile, doing what I usually do: cranking the size of the screen on the mother.

I'm about 7 pages into my new novel, & everyone agrees it's a hot book. However, I just can't seem to motivate myself to work on it, glasses or no glasses. I'm definitely not manic right now, or I'd be frantically tormenting my typewriter, but I'm not certain if I'm depressed, either. Doc Larocque dubbed the state "euthymic"; would that I were either hot or cold; because I am neither hot nor cold Karen Relationships spews Bible-prophecy garbage at me out of her mouth. I dunno. Maybe that last sentence was a little schizophrenic. Schizophrenia has come to be the defining character of my writing since Depakote cured my mood disorder.

Having a mental illness can definitely create friction in a relationship. I know I had a hard time dealing with Trish last week, when she took those muscle relaxers that made her so angry. Right now, though, I think she's coming out of her depression. Yesterday, she did 2 loads of laundry & 2 of dishes. She's also been compromising on the buckadingdongs problem: we've agreed that she'll spend $100 of her paycheck every month on bills, so Karen Upstairs will have some leeway in how much she has to spend of our disability money. She also agreed to wait until after I hear from Stan on "Trinities" (which was written while sailing the darkened seas in a great big submarine) before we buy anymore DVDs. She simply misunderstood my point: it's cheaper to rent than to buy; I told her you'd have to rent 20 times to justify the cost. This comes, however, following her insulting my writing last week. For those of you coming into this blog late (like Timothy Leary), last week Trish (my wife) started to take some Flexoral that she had from an old prescription, because her shoulders were hurting her from where she fell at her Town House job, & it made her temper flare, until we d/c'ed it & Dr. Huffman put her on Ultracet, a pain pill.

To return to her reaction to my writing, she has regular hours; I don't, & it's not like I wouldn't want to return to work, it's that if I make too much money I lose my disability, & then I won't be able to afford the medication that made me well enough to hold a job, anyway. I talked it over with the guy at Voc Rehab, & we decided that, with my writing finally starting to look commercial (with Ted's help), selling my stories might push me over the limit for still retaining disability.

As for The Mind-Warp Era, I've barely earned anything off it, which is what I'm doing on the internet right now, promoting this shattered kaleidoscope world I created during 20 years of savage dread. Just in case you're not familiar with the concept, Saklas, the Galactic Emperor, has put the Vast Active Destructive Intelligence System into Earth orbit to create Mindstorms, which alter the character/author, W.C. Leadbeater, into his favorite comic book swamp monster, Slime-thing, stalwart defender of Truth, Justice, & Niceness. The story follows Lead as he graduates from the Invisible High to move to Nite City for college, then back home again, where his transformations become of a different nature. With lots of sex & soul-melancholy shimmering. Buy the book. You'll be glad you did.

The Spirit of Gravity

My book, The Mind-Warp Era, (available from the publisher at www.iuniverse.com), concerns the Spirit of Gravity, at least in part--but I'm not writing about my own depression here; I'm worried about my wife. For the last couple weeks, Trish has been spending money compulsively, & also binge-eating: she's been gaining a lot of weight. The other day, when she went down in the basement to dress, I finally went down to check on her--still being a little paranoid about leaving her alone since her seizure--& she couldn't find a pair of pants that fit. I finally loaned her one of my old ones.

Then there's the issue of her temper. That drove us to break up when she first moved to Invisible City. I made up with her, married her, things had been fine--then the other day she snapped at Cathy & threw a fit when Kim came over when she wanted to watch Scream--something that was upsetting me, as I'd been having a panic attack. The next day, when we went over to the Perky Pam Layout, she reached the point where she had to go home & nap for an hour; Trish Downstairs & Mary brought over a plate of food. Pam also scheduled an emergency meeting with Charlene, one of the councelors there. I went home to be with my sweet Bumble Bee Girl & waited for Staff to come by with the meatloaf.

Then it struck me: Trish had just started taking an old prescription for a muscle relaxer, Flexoral, as her shoulder had begun hurting her again. I called the pharmacy, & they said it could potentially lead to anger & irritability. We had her immediately stop using the old pills & Dr. Huffman phoned in Ultracet, but Trish has still been depressed. Pam & Vickie tried to get a hold of Doc Larocque Friday to have Trish's Risperdal bumped up a notch. However, the psychiatrist was unavailable. If the Risperdal doesn't work, they'll be trying Trish on a new antidepressant.

However, some changes she's made on her own--she's been trying to control her spending & is willing to contribute money from her work toward bills, rather than leaving Karen the Kaseworker to do it herself. Also, when I discussed diet with her yesterday, she actually ate a salad at McDonald's, rather than a burger.

I love my Bumble Bee Girl, yes I do...