Thursday, March 22, 2012

HA HA embarrising life things cought on tape surely to be used against me when I am older.

When I was 15 my mother was awesome enough to let me get my belly button pierced. It was like . . . 5 days before my 16th birthday. 

I was scared TO DEATH.

I remember it hurt so badly I wanted to SCREEEEAMM ----- or laugh. I laugh a lot when things become overwhelmingly painful.

So here it is. Now it is your turn to laugh

at my goofy hair or my braces.

Laugh away. :D 

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

As for the rest

I'm going to watch a black and white movie with Grandpa Joe on Monday.

Here are some Pictures of the trips of this past week.

Taken from up in a tree

Where creek and river collide

Daww! Sleepy little snail!

And maybe a video If I can find one.

Just an average day.

spent the entire day hiking. Went out to dinner with my grandfather for his birthday.

Grandpa Joe. Hes the one I watch black and white movies with.
My other grandfather lives in west Virginia. I called him last night and found out that he is dying. His kidneys are failing. This (obviously ) upsets me. He could go on dialysis. But he tells me he'd rather die then go on dialysis for the rest of his life.

He feels that if he allowed himself to be put on dialysis, his condition would rule his life, and hes never been that kind of man.

I'm telling the story the only way I know it. The way I was told it. And people don't speak of the past much, so I had to sew bits and pieces together. 

He ran away from home at 13 to work on a farm and pay his own living. He did this because his father was an alcoholic, and scared him when he yelled at him and his mother. When he was older he managed a coal mine. This was in the 70s. He made millions. He invested- and poorly. The coal business eventually collapsed. (at least the one he was running.) He ended up broke. Most likely turned towards alcohol abuse. He never stated this, but photographs and other family things provide all necessary evidence, but I really don't want to slander my own grandfather. He was sober when I met him, and strong and good. After this he quickly learned a new trade, because by this time he had a wife. He also had a child, the light of his life, to provide for. He went into construction and found good money there. His marriage eventually failed. His wife move to Ohio with their child. He paid child support and continued to work, spending his money as he felt, and usually this wasn't the best way possible. Not the best way for him, at least, but he helped a lot of people. He was a family man, but not only for his own family. He went around the neighborhood and bought school clothes for all the families, fixed house things and helped single mothers in the area, making sure sons had haircuts and daughters had nice clothes and pretty jewelry to wear to school. He wanted to provide for all the children. Even if they were not his own.

He learned about foster parents and liked the idea. Though being a bit old fashioned didn't think he had to run through any specific organization to be  a foster parent, he simply sought out families that needed help and support and took care of their children and their families, buying school supplies, showing up for school concerts and church choir performances, conferences and sports events and the occasional doctor appointment. He made sure to invite specific families- especially the ones with young children, on vacation with him every year, when he would go to  Myrtle beach. He made sure they didn't pay a penny.

When winter came around he bought everyone hot chocolate and coats. he called them his foster children. When I was born he sent gifts through the mail. Dress up clothes and Giant teddy bears and shoes and coats and dress shoes and always candy. He knew I liked harry potter and bought me chocolate covered frogs. Once he got confused and thought willy Wonka was part of harry potter for some reason (?) and sent me willy Wonka chocolate bars. I still loved them. I felt very strange receiving his gifts, having never met him. It took me a while to understand how someone who I had never met could love me so much. He bought me shoes when I needed new shoes and they were my favorite. He bought my mother and my younger brothers gifts too, even though they were not biologically related to him. He was a wonderful man. I think his favorite thing to do was buy things for people.

He was always making money and doing business, but I think everyone knows he wasn't exactly the best business man. In return for services once, my grandfather was promised a house, a beautiful house, for his daughter, he worked very hard and received little pay for all the houses he built in this complex, believing that eventually one of them would belong to his daughter, and he could give her a proper start. Nothing was ever put in writing, my grandfather was a trusting man. And in the end he got screwed over, penny less and no house for his child. it was downhill from there. work got harder- pay was less. He got remarried to a charming woman. But sadness after bad decision after sadness hit them and he ended up in a mobile home supporting three individuals who - due to great loss and deep depression, and tragic deaths left and right, husbands, brothers, and sons dying, found themselves too sad to work. Too sad to live.

It is a nice mobile home, right by the river. He lives amongst friends and neighbors, and my grandmother is very funny, and my young cousin, is very smart. He supports them. I understand they are sad. I know he likes helping them. I know they are sad, having lost fathers sonds husbands and brothers all at once in a streak of bad luck. But now as my grandfather finds himself near death, I wish someone would be there to step up. I wish someone could pull out of the sadness and help him. After all he has done. They are old enough and capable. simply saddened.

I know depression can halt a lot of life's things.
But lets face it
When he dies
There will be no one to support them.

They will either have to get jobs or die.


That's how poor they are, and that's how much they depend on him.

My grandfather had a billion friends. If he died there would be a billion people, all his  "foster children" will be at the funeral. A billion people at his funeral. And no one can help him? I could help him. But I live two states away. I will support him, but he would want them to be supported too. Those I cant, and wont help. I will help him. I would help him. If I could. I don't know what to do. I know what the right thing is. Even if I did move down south and work to support him as a dental assistant, to support him so he could stop working . . . there would still be no one to support,  them. The three sad people he lives with. The three people he supports.My income wouldn't be even enough to help them.

They cant help them. They don't know how any more. They are too sad. Its terrible because his kidneys have been running 44 percent for the past year and he keeps working, well. Until now. He cant work now. I feel like hes working to death. hes supporting them to death. They are killing him. And now no one can help him.

And so he'd rather die then to not be able to help those who need his help.

He'd simply rather die.

And I don't know what to do.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Dead baby improv

Oh dear lord I am cursing my self I'm sure. Ill likely be punished for this. . 

Ladies and gents I know present: DEAD BABY IMPROV!!!!

 So far I only have one link leading to my music endeavors. Today I shall add add a new one.

This is just for fun. I get together with my friends and we do improv songs alll the time. Its really good fun. This one gets a bit morbid though, right from the get go. 

Its good to listen to if you can stomach it and try not to get offended. And no, we wont eat Zoey.

What do thorns mean?

Hello. the weathers been nice recently. Actually, compared to previous years the weathers been dandy all winter long. Mild to cold temperatures and light snow. Its been a dream. The nice weather of winter seems to be giving us an early spring, that I can see will rocket launch into summer weather. It might still be winter on the calendar, but flowers and trees and temperature doesn't know that. New life is sprouting up all around us.

Many are happy. Some are a bit guarded  and cautious, knowing that trees budding and leaves opening and tulips sprouting in February was not a good sign, and might not be the best for the Eco system in the long run, especially if a late frost comes again.

still even those with doubt can not help but to enjoy this weather. which only helps humans for the better. especially the economy. it costs less to run a household, without having to heat it. you save money on gas, not having to run the car for so long each morning to warm it up, and local shops and down town places are doing well, with the extra foot traffic that they normally wouldn't expect until late spring after the snow melts and the slush dissolves away.

I live in a larger city. Despite its urban reputation there are quite a few hidden splendors of nature one can find lurking within the corners, hidden entrances under bridges that go over creeks that people rarely think to follow. These creeks lead to rivers and springs. I really like springs. Many people don't understand the actually definition of a spring. If they are unsure they should look it up, because I don't want to explain that here. not right now at least. . .Sorry :S

I always assumed that I lived in a wooded forest like area. Only just recently have I realized that every single time I go into the forest, unless its the very life of summer, when the sun is blazing, I find that the grounds are covered in water. weather it be puddles ponds or simply sodding wet combination of leaves and mushy clay, its always wet. One more thing Ive only just realized; along side many of the towering trees we have an overabundance of bushes. not leafy things but twiggy spindly bushes with little foliage clinging to their limbs. Finally, the place Ive grown up is covered in thorns. All kinds, shapes and sizes, and even the shorter trees have thorns.

These thorny plants do not have a flower to boast or a color to covet.
All I see is thorn. Grey green and occasionally a muted red thorny plant.

So I am starting to reevaluate the label I've ignorantly placed on my location. Perhaps I do not live in a foresty area, I cant imagine a forest that would be this rude and violent. Walking through the wood is like running through a clinical unit of zombie nurses all wanting to take your blood. As you run through the swarm of zombie nurses  you get poked and prodded and come out bleeding and raw.

I am wondering, maybe I live in more of a swamp type of place, or perhaps a marsh. I am not sure, but the thorns are really making me doubt that this could simply be a forest.


frustrated yet calm.

Just wrote whole blog only to have power outage.

Blog is now gone. What does that mean?

Should I re write it, or should I just move forward.

Or should I even go back and edit my previous entry, which is riddled with typos, and grammar mistakes ( which will probably never be worked out, due to my inability to apply formulaic methods to any kind of thought ESPECIALLY those that are creative.) Formulas belong in math. I simply can not visualize a tiny bit of any kind of math. and that includes judging heights and distances. the entire concept seems to fake. Trying to see things that the eyes can not, for the purpose of making more comparisons the eyes cant make.  and adding them all up for some reason. What reason? I don't know. Lengths heights. Cant this be done by seeing rather then figuring? The world I live in personally is one where the things I need are all in close range. I keep what I need close, and light. I don't collect. I try not to want.

The very thought of math or science at all makes me completely fumed. I feel as If someone has left me all stabby gougey. with holes and ropes tied and strung through my stomach.

Its that bad.

People who say art is math can fuck off

And Id Love someone to respond to this post explaining why math isn't complicated or societal unnecessary higgely piggely.

counting. adding dividing, like some nervous freak who cant just live and walk around in the world and learn about things that are helpful. Like how to climb up a clay hill. slippery fuckers. I end up face in the ground sliding back down while the mucky clay treats my Nose like a play doh appliance, and I end up exhaling long noodle shaped clogs of dirt through my nostrils.

Yes someone tell me how math will help this. No ropes allowed and no rulers and no way to measure how steep the god damned hill is. Because I was a human and I wasn't born with tools so I seldom use them. sure id use a ruler.
but using a ruler would mean that Id have to FIRST CLIMB THE HILL in order to measure it. And i don't even know what measuring it would help any way. besides then I would have to craft the ruler myself. and make up my own unit of measuring. which seems stupid. what can I craft myself? eventually- a rope- some clothing- a knife of sorts- some baskets- a walking  stick. but yes. Id like to not depend on anything unless I can make it with things in my vicinity. things I can comprehend. I don't even have a cellphone. which Is a shocker to some people. I do enjoy the computer and my cameras. But I'm not going to use them in the woods to help me calculate anything. Go ahead debate me. try to tell me why art is math. you can go on and on but I think it might just be peoples need to have some sort of law, a safety net. I don't think any of it is really there. not unless we point it out. its something I cant explain to you.  Math might have made many things but math is not everything. I cant explain how I feel. Only that at this point all I feel is angry and defensive. I never use math unless I must. Life doesn't need math is what I'm saying. people can do things without having to count and figure out why.

 Life doesn't need a lot of things. In fact Wouldn't wear clothes if I didn't have to.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

I forgot how to make coffee?

Tell me how someone who has 3 or 4 cups of coffee every day, wakes up one morning, measures out the regular ammounts of coffee creamer and the like, sattles down to saste it, and is completely thrown off? This is the most disgusting coffee Ive ever tasted, and yet I make it the same way I make coffee every morning. At least thats what I think.

At this point in my morning ritual I sit back and try to congure up thelong used mornign coffee recipie only to find that I havent the slightest inkling of what it might be. I can not even rememberhow i make my coffee!
At this point I've really decided to throw in the towel. I am going to drink it regardless of the taste. I only wish it will begin to taste better. and if something can fall out of place so quickly, whose to say it cant fall back in?

It is about three where I am right now. this is certainly an early morning indeed. the snow is falling down like layers of thick blankets. piles of white quilts stacked high on each other. Typically one expects blankets to be a warm kind of thing, and in this case it is quite a chill metaphor.

I went to sleep at 8 last night and my family is notorious for only sleeping 6 hours out of the 24 that make up a day, so I suppose this is it. No use lying there gargling my saliva out of boredom while I stare at the ceiling and contemplate weather or not my hangnail will turn to infection if  I decide to bite it off. . .

Today as I do for much of the time in the winter, I shall write. I dont have any work to do at the moment, and Ive risen so early I almost feel as If I have tricked time into giving me something extra. I imagine I am walking around accomplishing me while the other me sleeps.

Good luck to everyone on this morning.

I plan to at some point roll around in those fluffy white blankets.