Frat Joke

I'm pretty sure that in college I made some joke about how one day all the awful frat rapists would be running things. "Yeah, we think they suck now, just wait til Frat Boy Brett is in charge of shit." People laughed. And now it's come back to haunt us.

What amazes me about this whole frat boy rapist situation is how blind the Right is to all of it. I'm not talking about his sexual misconduct because it's doubtful they would give a damn about that anyway. I'm talking about how almost everyone I knew in college hated all the elitist little spoiled frat bastards, especially the guys who came from blue-collar families. They saw how twisted, distorted, and awful these people viewed the world . . . and now they're supporting this one?

Frat Boy isn't going to help the working class. He isn't going to make things easier for Middle America. He doesn't care about them. He'll help support the elite class he's entrenched himself into and no, giving the elite tax cuts will NOT bring in more jobs to the rest of us. That never works.

I hate it when my jokes turn out this way.

Fall Blues

My roommate and I have been discussing Seasonal Affect Disorder for a few months now. His can be extreme and to help combat it, he's going to try and use a timer on his light to help him in the mornings. I'm very interested to see how this works.

Last year I made my own change where winter and my senses connected. I started using a noise machine to help me sleep at night. Before this, I used a fan. Even though I turned it away from me, I still ended up freezing. The noise machine was a lot better.

We'll also be burning a lot of candles and doing our best to keep as much outside light as possible. We did away with our curtains a few years ago and that helped. He may have to try spending some time outside on days when it isn't too cold. I just wish we had a better set up on the porch so that kind of thing was more comfortable.

Maybe we can work on that next year.

Friend Request

This morning I got a bit of an emotional jolt. My grandfather friend requested me on Facebook. Yes, the one who passed away recently. Come to find out, he was hacked. Apparently, there was a huge hack and his old account that he abandoned was part of it.

I've been dreaming about my dead family members a lot. It's strange how they react. My mother's dad is always really annoyed in my dreams, totally over everyone and wants to be away from us. My mom is demanding and disappointed in me. I have no idea why my brain is doing this.

Feet Fear

My foot is trying to start hurting again. I did my best to massage it and keep blood flow to it today. No idea if that even matters. I have no idea why it's hurting.

However, it is possible this has to do with my shoes. I'd not been wearing my mesh shoes since my foot started hurting the first time. Yesterday, while out with my roommate, I wore them. So, maybe those shoes need to be set aside for the time being. It's getting colder anyway.

Maybe that will help.

Blues

I tried to rest today but it didn't work that well. I've still been depressed and that's keeping me from really resting, even when I can sleep.

Tomorrow my roommate has an appointment in Fort Smith. Hopefully, it won't be raining while we're up there.

Bake Off

The BFF and I started watching the latest season of the Brit Bake Off today. I wasn't sure that I would, given all the changes they made to it. And yet, I found myself happily watching along. I can't help but love that show.

It's just so....pleasant. Everyone on it is so happy, even when they're crying. They just love baking so much. It's awesome to see that kind of joy in a craft. It makes me feel all fuzzy inside.

Blah

I'm crazy emotional right now. I can't seem to focus on anything that can help me crawl out of this funk. I wish I could.  Right now I can't even get music to cheer me up. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Batty

My roommate woke up at 5 this morning and knew something about his room was weird. He heard a noise that sounded like a bird or some kind of bug. Then he saw a dark shape fly overhead and realized we had a bat in the house.

He thinks he got it to fly outside. But it was early and the light wasn't that great, so he's not sure. The cats aren't acting like we have any kind of flying rodent so I'm guessing/hoping the thing is gone.

We don't need bats.

Summer Ending

Today was awesome. It felt like real Fall for the first time. I was napping around 5:30 and it just had that wonderful, protective feeling that Fall gives me. And thank all the gods because this summer was stressful.

I still have no idea what caused my foot pain but it's subsided for now and I'm grateful about that. It still hurts a lot to put shoes on, but perhaps that's just the angle of my foot during the process. Whatever the case, I'm walking better now and that's a good thing.

This summer changed a lot for me. Things were lost that will never be replaced or mended. I'm okay with that. In the case of my grandfather, he was in pain and having to live in a way that wasn't easy or happy for him. He's at peace now and I'm glad for that.

I'm drifting right now and I'm okay with that as well. I have new music to listen to and new games to play. That will bring me into this Autumn and hopefully sustain me for the rest of the year.

LSD

No, not the drug. Well, almost. It's a band comprised of Labrinth, Sia, and Diplo. This isn't the music I normally listen to, but I really love what they're doing.

I think a lot of it is because I'm finding a big Kate Bush influence in their work. Some of her more dreamy, beautiful moments feel represented here.

I also love how Sia doesn't put herself in videos. It's like she possesses someone else or something else (balloons, dolls) and they become the expression of her in the video. That's fascinating.

I think this exploration is something I'm doing while I'm processing losing my grandfather. That's okay. It's what I need right now.

Will of Tomorrow

My aunt told me tonight that the step-people are trying to cause problems. The will is being read tomorrow and they plan to make as much of a fuss about things as they can.

I'm glad I'm removed from this part of it and really have to claims on anything. My grandfather's stuff was his stuff. Whatever he wanted to be done with it is his business. Hopefully all of this can get resolved in a civil manner.

Out of It

My uncle called today and I realized I'd not told him about my grandfather. It's not his dad, but he was still concerned. It's just another instance of how out of it I've been.

My foot is better now, though my walking is still odd. In fact, it's odder than it has been in a while. I guess my gait is changing again.

I've also been really tired, but I think that's a side effect of the weather. Things are supposed to cool down about ten degrees next week. I'm excited about that.

Eulogies

I'm still kind of in a funk. I wish I could write more, but I'm just not in that place yet. I finished watching the season of BoJack and it was very good. It wasn't as stellar as last season, but that would be hard to do.

The best episode was the one about his mother's funeral. It was kind of perfect and moving to me given that I've also recently lost someone. One of the things he said, in one of the less harsh moments was that the truest hurt of losing someone you never really connected with was that now there was no chance to ever make it better. It's kind of how I felt when my mom died as well. Things would never get better than they were. It's kind of an awful realization, but a needed one.

Weird Place

I think the energy that kept me sustained during the funeral has left completely. I'm kind of in a fugue state right now. It's strange. I guess this is my odd way of grieving.

Not sure how long this will last.

Funeral

I made some preparations so that the funeral wasn't seriously difficult for me on a physical level. They worked out well, mostly because my brother helped me. On an emotional level, I'm more exhausted than I've been in a while. I had to talk to/be touched by a lot of people. I know they meant well, but it still took a lot out of me.

The Eulogy went well. I was complimented on it and on my hair. The rest of the ceremony was interesting because my grandfather was a Mason and they have a death ritual they do when one of their own passes. I'd never really seen anything like it before.

One of the Masons told me I was eligible to join Eastern Star, but I don't really see that being something that happens in my future.

It was a rough day. I'm thankful I made it through with as little damage as possible.

Endings

I have been playing a FB game for almost a year now. I quit last night, said goodbye to everyone, and left it forever. It was time.

I started this game in my grief process after losing the cats. I'd been playing another game and this one was a promo for stuff for that one. I liked this one a lot better and it did what I needed a game to do; it helped me to focus on something besides the grief.

Now my mind is drifting towards other things. I'm not going to pretend to understand why grief manifests the way it does. It's a new set of losses. September has changed several things for me this year. Now my mind is elsewhere and the game will no longer comfort me.

My grandfather's funeral is tomorrow. I'm going to try and put myself on autopilot and just get through it. More on that later.

Holes in Your Face II

I'm not sure if my mother really hated me or if there was just some darkness in her that caused her to constantly be poisoning well. It seems like when I was vulnerable or happy or just in any place where I was trying to be proud about something, she would come along and do whatever she could to ruin it.  It was never just some small snide comment that I could brush away. Mom's comment bore deep into me. They have barbs and to this day, I can't pull them out.

While on the phone with me today, my brother commented that my grandfather was probably the best of the Dunns, the most successful and accomplished. He went on to say more stuff, but part of me wasn't even listening. Part of me linked that comment to a conversation I had with my mom when I was very young.

I don't remember where we were, but I want to say we were outside somewhere. Perhaps sitting in the backyard. I was excited because I was going to spend the night with my dad's father and my step-grandmother. I loved them a lot and loved being at their house.

"She's not really your grandmother, you know." This was Mom's first comment about my excited state. I told her I knew this. I knew my dad's mom died before I was born, but my step-grandmother loved me.

My positive spin on Mom's poison never made her happy. She pulled me down and began to brush my hair, complaining about all the tangles.

"They're awful people. Not your step-grandmother, but your grandparents. She was a bitch. Not like my mother. A smarter bitch who got her way."

I didn't like this. I idolized my mom's mom at this point and didn't like it when she said bad things about her. I tried to pull away, but Mom held me in place and pulled on my hair with the brush.

"A few years before she died, your grandpa left your grandma. He had a new girlfriend and she was going to have a baby."

I remember getting really flushed. My face burned as Mom talked about this. I didn't want to hear all the bad stuff, even though she loved to tell me. At that time, I didn't really know how to express how much I didn't want to be part of the conversation, so I just said, "No."

"Yes. Oh yes. He left her. And she told him he would come back to her and he would NOT embarrass her like this. Guess what? He did, because she was a meaner bitch than he was."

"That's good?" I honestly didn't know how to respond.

"No, it's not." I knew she was leading up to the darkest part. Mom seethed a kind of joy when she was getting to the darkest part the way some people start laughing right before telling a punchline. "The girl he got pregnant killed herself. Do you know what that means?"

I did. I don't know how I knew but I did. In my mind, I imagined her using a rope to hang herself or maybe a knife in the bathtub. Even as a little kid, I knew people didn't do this unless they were really hurt. I also knew this meant the baby died too.

Mom turned me around and looked into my eyes. "And that's who you come from. Never forget. That's what you are."

I started crying and nodded.

I thought about all of that as my brother was talking. I didn't want to tell him about it. I didn't want to poison his well about Mom or about my grandfather. I kept my mouth shut, but the memory stayed with me for the rest of the day. Mom did her work well.

What drives me crazy is I don't even know if this is true. It isn't the kind of thing you casually ask a family member. Maybe it isn't. I hope it isn't.

Not that it matters. Mom planted her seeds so well. Even if that never happened, when I was a little kid, my mom told me my grandparents messed with someone's life so horribly that she killed herself. Then she told me that was who I was. The damage is there.

Sad Day

My grandfather died today. I will miss him. I really don't think I can write more today.

Fan Joy

You'd think by my title I'd be talking about my joy at having fans ON, which, honestly, is a joy, but more than that, this is about the joy one can get from fandom.

And yes, you can also get hell from fandom. A lot of fandoms are toxic or have toxic elements. If one can avoid that and just focus on 'this makes me happy oh look it makes other people happy too' part of it, it can be so great.

Recently I've experienced this by listening to the podcast Race Chasers. Alaska and Willam are analyzing every episode of Drag Race, with commentary, background explanations, and even guests.

Last night I listened to their latest episode and Cazwell was the guest. I've liked his brand of in-your-face comedy gay rap for quite a while, but found him even more charming on the podcast. It was just so adorable to get to hear someone gush about their favorite show. It made me happy because, honestly, there is something so wonderful about listening to someone talk about what makes THEM happy.

Seriously, if you like a something, go see if someone is doing a happy podcast about it. It will do you good.

For my Grandfather

I spent today writing my grandfather's eulogy. I thought I would put it here.

I'm often quiet at family gatherings. This is unusual because most of the time when I'm around lots of people, I'm the one keeping things lively. With family, however, I find that listening to the people around you is far more important than talking. You learn a lot about people by the conversations they have with others. As this family, you also learn a lot about yourself.

I've always loved listening to my grandfather talk. Jimmie Gus Dunn could hold a conversation with anyone. He was lively, charming, and had a way of inviting the other person to be part of the topic. He often talked to people about things that I didn't really have an interest in, but that was fine with me. In fact, one of the best things you can do is listen to people talk about stuff you're not into. That way, you focus on the people and not the topic. You gain a deeper understanding of who they are.

And who was my grandfather? He appreciated craftsmanship. When he would talk to my dad or my brother about a gun or a knife, he would know everything about it. He would know the history of the maker, be able to assess the quality of the make. Most of the time, he also had a couple of funny stories related to it. If he didn't know much about a subject, he was strong enough to ask questions of someone who did. He saw people's value and let them know he did.

These qualities are why he was successful in the arenas of business, hunting, and community. He knew how to engage others. He knew how to inspire others to assist him in getting things accomplished. He knew how to work toward goals. When my grandfather would talk to other people, I always understood exactly why he'd realized his objectives in life.

This isn't to say we didn't have our own conversations.  In fact, interestingly enough, we often talked about love. My grandfather was never shy about his emotions. He wasn't shy about his regrets. He told me about lost loves, mistakes he had made, the things he wished he had done differently. I think often people aren't sure about the realities of things like love, but my grandfather knew. Love is real.

He talked to me about his mother's mother, and how he would watch her knead bread when he was little. She would speak to him in Italian and he would answer back in English. Both understood the other's language but felt most comfortable in the one they were taught as children. When he talked about her, I could see this was someone who adored him completely and he carried that love with him always.

He talked to me about my grandmother, though that topic tended to be more difficult. She died before I was born and all I have of her are the stories given to me by other people. He mostly told me about her expectations of him. She was clear about the man she wanted him to be, the father she wanted him to be, and the human she wanted him to be. Even though she has been gone for a long time, I always had the impression that he still weighed her opinions in the decisions he made.

My grandfather is gone and the people who knew him will now honor his memory. While you do that, as you do that, listen to the people around you. Really listen to them and learn who they are by what they say, how they say it. Learn who they loved. Learn who loved them the most when they were children. Learn what they value. Learn who they hold in high regard. These are the things I will carry with me as memories of my grandfather and I am a richer person for it.

Update on Me

My foot continues to be painful and awful. It's slightly better than yesterday. It's like, if the pain yesterday was an 8, today, it's a 7.7 I'm saying 8 on the pain overall because I've heard people describe gout and I know my foot isn't at 10.

A little progress is better than no progress.

There has been no bruising. My foot is slightly swollen, but honestly, no more than it usually is. It hurts most when I lift my foot, move my leg backward, or put weight on it. It's not a fallen arch issue, because that would be lower and my arch looks fine. I can wiggle all my toes, though the littlest one isn't happy about it.

Other than that, I'm mostly just exhausted. The extra energy I have to put into just going to the bathroom is a lot. I'm trying to stretch out the foot as much as I can while sitting to keep it from stiffening up. I can also use the massager on it today, though some spots do not like it. That should help.

Emotions

I hate emotions.

The thing is, maybe I hate them because they're honest. They are, as I have been discussing lately, a place where reality, at that moment, slams you into the wall and shows you who you are.

I was emotional yesterday. Loudly, explosively, uncontrollably emotional. I could make excuses. I was in pain. I felt misjudged. I felt accused. I felt frustrated because my perception is that I'm always treated like the bad guy in situations. I felt railroaded because I thought I'd done things already to satisfy someone and thought I'd made myself clear about other situations, when, from their perspective, I clearly had not.

I'm mortified by my outburst. It was ridiculous and excessively ineloquent. However, perhaps it's best things came into the light. Now I have a better understanding of the situation, from everyone's perspective.

Sunday

Still in pain. Did what sciatica exercises I could manage last night. I'll do more later. Hopefully, it will work, assuming that is what this is. Whatever the case, I would really like to be out of pain soon.

Random Thoughts on Realness

I watched American Psycho yesterday. It's been a few years since I've seen it, and one of the things that really stood out this time was Patrick Bateman's struggle with his own sense of being real. I realize he's a fictional character, but as it's a subject I've hit on and thought about often, I considered it worth noting. Patrick was based on the idea of a lot of people around that time.

I sometimes wonder if I suffer from Narcissism, but the fact that Narcissists tend to not accept reality or even their place in it makes me think I'm not. I'm quite grounded in my idea of being real, even if it's more of an internal thing with me than external. Honestly, the external just seems to be a source of annoyance. Right now my brain is happy. My body is hot, in pain, needs to pee, and trying its best to get a headache.

If there was any way we could separate out of reality, I would love that. I hate my body. I don't hate it because it's not conventionally beautiful. I actually enjoy the curves, stretch marks, hair, and distortions. I hate my body's constant pain. I hate its constant needs. I hate its constant discomfort, how quickly it gets dirty, how there is always a need for adjustments and small struggles just to make it through the day. I hate THAT part of it . . . you know, the reality of it.

I'm also bored with it. I'm bored with all of its needs and complaints. My brain has better things to do. I have better things to do.

I realize I just spent the last part of this post talking about my body as something separate from me . . . which means my detachment and disassociation continues.

Reality is a bitch.