tinhuvielartanis: (Devil Smidge)

You know, the time before last (which was three days ago out of desperation from migraine pain), when I seriously tried to commit suicide, within a week of getting to the house, I was offered a stay in England and in Australia.  When I was in serious danger of losing the place Smidgen and I live, I was offered a place to live, at least for Smidgen, which is my first priorty.

All this started in 2014.

I have gone nowhere and still have no home for Smidgen.

This is why I have trust issues with people.  They will say anything if it makes them think they will with either help and things will get better or I will choose to live.

The hopelessness of my chronic pain only seems to get worse with every passing day.  I live in isolation in this room in a house with people who hate me.

When I bought this harness for Toby, I thought I'd still be able to walk this canyon hill.  In my condition, that's just not happening.  I can't even walk up to the bus stop stop without almost passing out.  I had one dude treat me like like I was some kind of crazy person, because my blood sugar went so low.  Depending on the sentiment, it was either a curse or a blessing I was gotten back in time to get some sugar.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B009028QSC/ref=oh_aui_detailpage_o06_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1


The harness is easily prepared for idiots like me who never learned how to tie a knot.  It'll be fast and no one will notice.  I'll be taking Smidgen with me, since no one wants her.

When will this happen?  I don't know.  Probably on the spur of the moment, when I have enough money to get to the park.  Sometime in July, probably.  All I know is that I'm sick of the exasperation I receive when I have to go anywhere, even the doctor. I'm tired of being treated like a criminal because of the illnesses I have. I'm tired of being tired and not being able to sleep. And I'm tired of being placated to just to keep me alive, when no one really wants me alive. It's a reflex. What's the point in living when there is no one and nothing to live for?  I'd rather just have honesty and be told that, yes, I am a throaway who was only ever loved by Aunt Tudi.

She's dead now.  What's the point of anything? I am constantly in pain, these migraines are getting more frequent, no hospital or doctor but Sharp will give me any relief, there's no point in continuing like this.

tinhuvielartanis: (Torquemada)

I haven’t done one of these in about 10,000 years, so let’s get this show on the road.



This is all true. photo 1264091_10153348891685721_288267917_o.jpg1. Full name: Tracy Angelina Evans
2. Nicknames: Tin, Tinhuviel, George, Darth Shriek
3. Birthplace: Asheville, North Carolina USA
4. Birthday: 10 September, 1967
5. Where Do You Live Now?: San Diego, California
6. Parent(s): Father Unit has passed.  Mother Unit is here in San Diego.
7. Sibling(s): ZERO
8. Looks: Better off invisible.
9. Favourite Animal(s): Anything non-human, except for millipedes and centipedes.  Like humans, they can go fuck themselves.
10. Favorite TV Show(s): Impractical Jokers, Better Call Saul



11. Favorite Kind(s) Of Music: Most everything but Country and Opera.
12. Favorite Movie(s): Sci-Fi, Unusual, Conceptual, Foreign
13. School: Some college, focusing on English and Veterinary Assistance
14. Future School: I’m too old for this question. The Chapel Perilous

15. Future Job: Testing new, effective sleep aids.
16. Boyfriend/Girlfriend: nah
17. Best Buds: I’m a bit of a hermit these days.
18. Favorite Candy: Milk Dud
19. Hobbies: Music, reading, writing
20. Things You Collect: Grudges, CDs, movies, moments in time.



21. Do You Have A Personal Phone Line: Yes
22. Favorite Body Part Of The Opposite Sex? The eyes and brain
23. Any Tattoos And Where Of What?: Red & Black Triskele on right hand, Green Shriekback logo on left hand, Mwanza Flat-headed Agama with green and blue hues instead of pinkish and blue.
24. Piercing(s) And Where?: not anymore
25. What Do You Sleep in?: clothing
26. Do you like Chain Letters: aw HELL NAW.
27. Best Advice: Reality is peripheral.
28. Favorite Quotes: Hope for the best, expect the worst. - Mel Brooks.
29. Non-sport Activity You Enjoy: sleep
30. Dream Car: A transporter



31. Favorite Thing To Do In Spring: Avoid the sun.
32. What’s Your Bedtime: Whenever I’m lucky.
33. Where Do You Shop: Wherever I can.
34. Coke or Pepsi: Cheerwine

35. Favorite Thing(s) To Wear?: Something loose that will allow me to blend into my surroundings.
36. Favorite Subject(s) In School: English and Creative Writing

37. Favorite Color(s): Green, Red, Black
38. Favorite People To Talk To Online: People with brains and a wicked sense of humour that has set them on the road to Hell.

39. Root-Beer or Dr. Pepper? Root beer

40. Do You Shave? I’m too old for that bullshit.




41. Favorite Vacation Spot(s): I don’t do vacations.  My favourite place to BE is England.
42. Favorite Family Member(s): Smidgen
43. Did You Eat Paint Chips When You Were a Kid? WHAT?
44. Favorite CD you own: Currently Without Real String or Fish by Shriekback
45. The ONE Person Who You Hate The Most: Going with an old standard here and saying Pat Robertson.
46. Favorite Food(s)?: Potatoes
47. Who Is The Hottest Guy or Girl In The World?: I have a very short list.
48. What Is Your Favorite Salad Dressing?: Bleu Cheese.
49. When You Die, Do You Wanna Be Buried or Burned Into Ashes? I don’t care, as long as I end up on Craggy Dome.
50. Do You Believe In Aliens?: Absolutely.








51. If You Had The Chance To Professionally Do Something, What would You Do? I’m already a Professional Misanthropist.
52. Things You Obsess Over: Various artists, ideas, philosophies, theories, general weirdness
53. Favorite Day of the Week: Don’t bloody care.
54. An Authority Figure You Hate: The Feudal Mistress still tops the list.
55. Favorite Disney Movie: Bambi
56. What Is Your Favorite Season? Winter
57. What Toppings Do You Like On Your pizza? Cheese, with extra cheese, and cheese on the side.
58. Do You Like Your School Food Itself (As In The District Food): I never ate it.
59. If You Could Live Anywhere, Where Would You Live? Avebury, Wiltshire, UK
60. Favorite Thing(s) To Do On Weekends: Sleep, if I can accomplish it.







61. Favorite Magazine(s): Don’t have one.
62. Favorite Flower(s): White rose

63. Favorite Number(s): 5

64. Favorite Ice Cream flavor(s): Ben & Jerry’s Wavy Gravy

65. What Kind of Guys/Girls Are You Attracted to?: Dangerously intelligent, beautiful, talented, and hilarious.

66. What’s Your Most Embarrassing Moment? I inadvertently introduced myself to someone as his wife.

67. If You Could Change One Thing About Yourself What Would It be? I would be fearless.

68. Do You Eat Breakfast First Then Brush Your Teeth or Brush first ten eat breakfast: breakfast first.

69. Favorite Time of Day: Whenever I get to sleep.

70. Can A Guy and Girl Be Just “Best Friends?”: Why not?



71. Do You Ask The Girl/Guy Out Or Do You Wait For Them To Come To You?: I don’t go there anymore.

72. Do You Mind Paying For Sex? I never would.

73. What’s The Most Important thing In Someone’s Personality: Sentience

74. Do you have a pager or cell phone? Cell

75. Favorite Sport: Flambodious Butt-walking

76. What Was the Best Gift You Ever Received? Love

77. How Long Did This Letter Take You To Finish?: Not very long.

78. What Did You Listen To While Completing It?: Electric Light Orchestra’s Alone in the Universe.

79. Are you or would you like to be married in the near future (next 5 years)? NEGATIVE

80. Don’t u just hate how psychics never win the lottery? I hate it more than I don’t win the lottery. I hate psychics, especially the ones who claim to talk to your dead relatives.  They’re grifters who should be drawn and quartered.  The End.

tinhuvielartanis: (Here is the news!)

Today I went to see Dr. Denysiak about my lab results and any health concerns I may have. I was a bit nervous to go, because I was going to be asking her to do things for me, one of which is something I'm sure doctors are burnt out on doing, the other of which regarded a thing I could never broach to my docs in South Carolina, because I already knew it was a futile attempt on all our parts.




  1. I need certification from my PCP to send with my discharge request to Nelnet, so my paltry monthly sum will stop being garnished over $200 a month.  I need Dr. Denysiak to confirm that I am indeed permanently disabled.

  2. I want to get the ball rolling on the skin removal surgery I need, and I had to ask her what she and I needed to do to make that happen.



Because I was antsy about all that, my blood pressure was elevated at one point.  I say "at one point" because the nurse took it five times, one of which was lying down, and another standing up.  Lowest reading was 98 - 50, highest 150-100, all within the course of about 10 minutes.

When Dr. Denysiak came in, she told me that she was referring me to a cardiologist to dig deeper into my blood-pressure conundrum.  She went over my labs and I'm still extremely deficient in some vitamins and minerals, the worst levels of which were B12 and Iron.  I got a B12 shot today, and I have to go every month for one, until my body gets straightened out.

Blind as a damned bat!

She asked me when was the last time I had my eyes checked.  I told her it had been years ago.  I was nearsighted then, and my vision has really only gotten worse, probably because I lost my glasses in that car accident my seizure caused in 2012, and I couldn't afford to pay for another check-up and get the glasses replaced.  As I mentioned earlier, the palm trees out here look like giant umbrellas to me, just as the deciduous trees in SC all looked like giant broccoli.  She pushed the referral through and said I could go upstairs as soon as I left to set up an appointment with one Dr. Couris.  I go see him in August.

She said the referral for the cardiologist should be sent by tomorrow, at which time I can call for an appointment to have the blood pressure issue addressed.  In 2013, the Mother Unit strongly suggested that I get my heart checked, since she had to have heart surgery due to a possible genetic issue that affected the heart.  I never did.  Given my default frame of mind since 2011, I didn't care if I had the same condition or not.  In fact, I hoped I did and that it would kill me ASAFP.  But, I'm going to follow the doc's orders and give this heart doctor a call to set up an appointment.

I then asked her if she would fill out the necessary paperwork for me to send to Nelnet, so I can stop having what little money I get garnished by institutions who haven't a monetary care in the world.  She didn't hesitate with her resounding yes.  I think I melted a little from relief.  In the meantime, though, those who know me should consider me indefinitely too broke to pay attention.

The other question was a seriously big deal for me, because I was told before I even got the gastric bypass surgery that I would be denied the procedure to remove my excess skin, when or if the time came.  That's how I began my request to Dr. Denysiak, that I had essentially forgotten about skin removal surgery, because it was never an option to begin with, not in South Carolina.  I told her how my back pain had gotten worse over the months and that the affected area was directly across from the dead weight of my stomach, giving me rise to believe that if that weight weren't pulling on my spine all the time, my back might get better and I would be better able to excercise and lose more weight.  I also told her about the skin infections I've had to fight over the years, the worst of which are the topical yeast infections.  She had me show her the area in question, and immediately sent an insurance request and referred me for an initial consultation with a plastic surgeon, commenting that she doubted my pre-certification would be denied.

img_1050.jpgAfter Dr. Denysiak left the room, the Mother Unit and I began to discuss the surgery as we waited for the nurse to return with the B12 shot.  Being the sick bastard Mama is, she suggested that I ask the surgeon for the skin he removes to make myself a lampshade for my strange Gothic lamp she thinks is so ugly.  We were cackling like lunatics when the nurse returned, so I told her what we were laughing about and she started cackling, too.

Secretly, though (well, not so secretly, now that I'm writing about it online), I would love to be able to do that.  Mine is the kind of lamp that screams human skin lampshade material.  And, hell, why just throw it away?

Waste not, want not, as they say...

tinhuvielartanis: (Inconceivable)

About an hour ago, Matt reminded me of the drum circle that's happening tonight. A short while after that, the Mother Unit also reminded me, asking if I was going with them.

I am not.

When it was mentioned at the Rainbow drumming circle on Sunday, I didn't get the chance to tell the Unit and Matt that I wouldn't participate. Later, I forgot to bring it up. They just assumed I'd be up for any drum circle, and that's totally understandable. I don't think they understood why I won't be going with them, though, despite my best efforts to explain.

Honestly, I didn't try very hard to explain my reason to Matt, because his understanding others - at least me, at any rate - is as selective as his hearing and attention span, and it would have led to nothing more but another avoidable conflict.  But I did try to clarify my position to the Unit.

If there is something I despise more than anything else in the world, I would have to say it is hypocrisy, religious hypocrisy to be exact.

Since 2011, I have had issues with my spirituality that, today, sees me on the threshold of unapologetic atheism.  I have not participated in Esbats or Sabbats, nor will I until I can say without reservation that I still believe.  This is a full moon drum circle.  Engaging in connecting with Earth's heartbeat by creating rhythms beneath a full moon is too close to participating in ritual for my comfort.

The Unit's argument to mine was that she was not Pagan, nor is Matt, and they're still attending.  In fact, she said, there were probably few, if any, Witches present, that it was more about the drumming than anything.  And she's right.  I can't deny she doesn't have a point.  She also fails to understand that, because I'm an initiate, because I take spirituality extremely seriously, I don't feel comfortable going to an event that even hints at ritual.  I would feel like a hypocrite, and that's an untenable position in which to find oneself.

I would love to go drumming tonight.  Since this one is on the beach, I would particularly love going, as I have been wanting to return to the ocean for quite a few months now.  (I think I may be past the used condom incident to the point I could brave the water again.)  Immersing into the Pacific beneath a full moon as the attendees drum out our collective heartbeat sounds wonderful to me right now.  In all good conscience, however, I can't do it.  Even though the Unit and Matt don't see a problem with my participation, neither of them have undergone an initiation into a spiritual path.  They don't see the conflict because, for them, there is none.  And that's okay.  That's the way it's supposed to be.


In completely unrelated news, my back has been about to kill me today. As I went up the stairs earlier, I felt like the G-force was tripled. It then occurred to me that the excess skin I could never get removed may be a major factor in keeping my back in a fix. So I decided to see what my health insurance might cover, given it changed when I moved to California. I couldn't find anything on Aetna's secure members' page, but that didn't stop me. I wrote Aetna. About thirty minutes later, I got this back:

Your provider will need to request precertification for the procedure.
If approved you may be responsible $264 out patient procedure co-payment.

I'm flabbergasted by this. It just doesn't even seem real to me, that this procedure, considered strictly cosmetic by all insurers in South Carolina, would cost me less than $300, if I got approval. Based on the experience I've so far had with the medical maze in California, I'm pretty confident I'd get approval, especially if it means the procedure would help with my back, knees, and my skin in general.

I go see my PCP next week, and will definitely be broaching the subject to her at that time. I will also be mentioning it to the pain doctor later on this month, considering he's been treating my pain issues in regard to my spine, knees, and fibro. So, we'll see.

I'm probably screwing myself over royally for feeling this way, but I'm actually kind of hopeful about the prospects of this. Anyone who reads this needs to keep your digits crossed for me, 'cos this would be monumental.

tinhuvielartanis: (RepLogo)

[livejournal.com profile] dprescott just reminded me of something that happened yesterday. He had posted a picture of his dinner, captioning it as "Grilled Cobia." I read it as "grilled cobra," because I am fucking blind. With his unintentional PS on Facebook, I'm almost certain the story I'm about to tell would easily earn me the money I need for glasses, if I decided to tell it on a site like GoFundMe.com. Here's the skinny. Try not to laugh too hard at me. I got enough of that from the Mother Unit and Matt.

Mid-morning, yesterday, I began to develop a migraine headache. With the aid of darkness and Simpson oil, it subsided enough to where I thought I could go to the drum circle in Balboa Park, get a little fresh air, and hope it went away altogether.

Bad idea.

Taking Toby, we headed out around 3:30. As soon as we arrived, Toby took a huge dump right on the edge of the circle. As I was trying to pick up the mess, the plastic bag broke, and I ended up with shit all over my hand, even under my fingernails. Channeling the cursed spirit of Sal Vulcano, I freaked the fuck out, and had to go into a park restroom that looked more like an unlit stone prison cell used by the Spanish Inquisition, to scrub the flesh off my fingers.

After that, I went back to the circle, but the drums seemed to just echo in my skull. It was excruciating, so I took Toby, who was threatening to mark people's drums, and wandered away to try to drain his pipes and quiet the brain ache. About an hour later, I was seeing auras again, and couldn't bring myself to go back to the circle, so I settled in near where we parked, and apologised to passersby at whom Toby thought it was his sworn duty to bark.

no title

On occasion, I would gaze longingly up at the drum circle and, honestly, I was nursing a pretty sour "poor me" attitude, until I saw something really odd. On the edge of the circle, I saw what looked like two dogs getting it on, in time with the drummers. To me, it looked like a dark brown boy dog with lighter fur on his inner thighs, just going at with his girl, legs off the ground and everything, and no one seemed to notice what was going on! If they did, they just didn't care. Now, I wasn't scandalized by the public boning; I was more amazed that they were doing it to the beat.

I kept staring at this, agog at how no one was witnessing this awesome moment of natural symmetry, until...the boy dog lifted his head a little, and I saw that it was actually a long-haired Hippie (this was the Rainbow Family drum circle, after all), who had been bent over his drum. What I thought were the boy dog's back legs were actually the guy's arms as he kept time with everyone else.

See, this is what happens when a half-blind fucktard with a migraine headache decides it's a good idea to take an asshole dog to a drum circle. I'll inform everyone when I have my GoFundMe page ready to accept merciful donations for my prescription glasses.

Dear god, dear god...

tinhuvielartanis: (Can't Stop Writing)
It's been a week since I've done one of these, but I've been a tad busy with much more Important Matters (yes, important enough to merit capitalization!)

So, let's get this party started, shall we?



This was inspired by something the Mother Unit said a while back.  I thought she was going to wet herself when she saw it.  Made me damned happy!  It also almost drove me batshit crazy, because my Photoshop skills leave a lot to be desired.  It took me half a day to make it, and it still is pretty bad, despite efforts to the contrary.
1013595_10154062768095721_2224286489494636057_n
You want to see more. You know you do. Click it! You can't resist! The power of Christ compels you! )

Okay, freaks, there will be more to come!
tinhuvielartanis: (Maul - snarky)

In the very early morning hours of Monday, around 3 AM, I was jolted awake by PAIN. I immediately knew it was a Fibromyalgia flare-up, but it was the absolute worst one I've ever had. Yesterday was  spent "enjoying" a full-body sensation that could only be described as the bastard child of an abscessed tooth and childhood growing pains, magnified a hundredfold. Misery was the word of the day.

Thankfully, today, I had an appointment with the pain management doctor. She checked me out, focusing on typical hot spots on the body that Fibromyalgia just loves to ravage with pain. When she saw tears pooling in my eyes, she ordered me an industrial sized shot of anti-inflammatory steroids. She also called me in a prescription for another kind of anti-inflammatory that I'm not supposed to begin until Thursday, so I'm going to wait to pick that up, considering I can't seem to blink my eyes without excruciating effort.

Since Matt had mentioned he needed to use the car this morning, I took an Orange Cab to and from the docs. The cab driver who brought me back home was a lady who had driven me somewhere once before. On the way, we struck up a conversation about family, work, illness, and grieving. I asked her if she was a native San Diegan. That's when she told me she was Ethiopian. I remarked that I'd always wanted to visit Ethiopia and even wrote an Ethiopian Vampire into my books (the dashing Mephistopheles, Rebekah's immortal mate). When we got to the house, I decided to pay the fare with my debit card, and give her a cash tip that was half of what the fare was. Since cabbies are usually only tipped at 10-20% of the fare, this kind of shocked her, I could tell. Female cabbies have to deal with a lot of potential danger, and probably don't earn as much as male cab drivers, so I wanted to make her bringing me home worth her while. We thanked one another and parted ways.

About twenty minutes later, Matt saw an Orange Cab car pull in front of the house, and asked me if I'd called for another ride. Since I hadn't, I went out to see if something was wrong. It turned out that my phone had slipped out of my purse while I was paying the fare. The lady discovered it when she attempted to call me to give me her direct number for any future transportation needs, and the phone began to ring in her back seat. I was just dumbfounded by her kindness in, in all probability, going out of her way to bring it back to me. I thanked her again and off she went into the uncharacteristic mist. I immediately programmed her number into the phone, but texted her to ask if I could have her name. Even though it has a certain ring to it, "Nice Ethiopian Lady from Orange" isn't very functional in the contacts list. I also thanked her again in the text, and assured her that I would reach out next time I need a ride. Hopefully, she'll text me back, when she has a chance.

In between the above incidences, I inched painfully into my room as I was talking to Matt. When I walked in, I noticed that my lamp, which is on the floor, for lack of having a table that could handle its massive size and weight, had been moved to one side. I asked him if Toby had knocked it down, since that had happened just a couple of days ago. He told me that the Mother Unit must have moved it when she was in my room. I asked him if he knew why, and he suggested I look up. Since I tend to look down when walking because, if I don't, I invariably end up tripping and busting my face, I had not taken notice of the wall. I turned my head in the direction to which Matt was pointing and saw this.

BIG BADASS )


I have never been afraid of Darth Maul. I'm too caught up in a dense fog of lust to be scared. This time, though, I was more than a little startled not because it was Maul, but because it was giant and unexpected. It turns out that The Unit and Matt had ordered the laminate from Fathead, and devised a way they could get me out of the house so they could affix it to my bedroom wall, since the job takes at least two people. Matt needing the car was all a ruse. I thanked them both with as much enthusiasm and glee a person who feels like she's being strip-mined by demons can express. Now, I'm dividing my time between writing this, attempting to eat something for the first time since yesterday morning, and giving an image of Darth Maul that's taller than Ray Park the hairy eyeball.

And there you have it. I'm spending the rest of the day trying not to move very much and waiting for the shot to begin taking effect, ogling my smexxy smexxy Sith, and watching Impractical Jokers reruns online.

tinhuvielartanis: (Caveman)

A few minutes ago, I went out to get something more to drink. For some reason, today, I can't seem to get enough liquid. As usual, Matt policed what I was taking in, commenting that I never drank water, it was always just soda. This is patently untrue. I was actually throwing out my Mountain Dew bottle and going back to the kitchen for my cold bottle of water.

I don't know what led to this point but, for some reason, Matt felt it wise to comment that I should throw the Mother Unit out along with the Mountain Dew bottle, then warned me not to get a hernia. Even though I already knew what he was implying, I played dumb and asked him what he meant. He made some offhand remark about the Unit's weight.

I fucking went cold as ice from there. I told him that we could joke about pretty much anything and, even though we did seriously bicker at times, I was usually cool with our incessant ragging on one another, except for this particular subject.

Flustered, Matt said, "I'm just, I'm just sayin'..."

"You're just saying you're a fucking bully," I responded. "You realise that most people, when fat-shamed, often gain more weight, rather than losing. And, not only that, like everything else in the world, a person's weight is influenced by genetics."

"No," he said. "I'm the reason your mom gained weight." I'm assuming this was a way of saying he is a fabulous cook, and people can't resist eating more than they should because it's so tasty. Right.

I then said: "I'm still trying to figure out which one of your parents is the massive asshole, because that's genetic, too, and you're a major one."

I wasn't kidding. I don't kid about this particular subject. It's been one of my number one rants since my time here on The Cliffs of Insanity.

When I was a kid being tormented by others who grew up to be just like Matt, I would just withdraw, hoping that the "sticks and stones" myth would actually fucking work. It doesn't. It never has, and it never will. The only way to confront a situation like this is to do so aggressively and without hesitation.

I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour in regards to myself, but especially when it comes to my mother. This has long been my stance on my tribe and myself. You can diss on me, but expect me to diss right back. But, if you diss on my Tribe, those I love and am grateful for their presence in my life, expect a merciless response over a long period of time, because I fucking hold grudges and am always on the lookout for ways to repay your unkindness threefold.

I notice things about people, and I carry these observations until I might be able to make use of them in some way. My observations have brought me to several conclusions that would probably make for unpleasant conversations if the weight subject is brought up again. I hope it isn't, mainly for the Unit's sake. She doesn't deserve the discord Matt and I generate. But I can't not defend her.

tinhuvielartanis: (Elton_Tin)

1000% ridiculous.

The people in this JibJab are the Mother Unit, Matt, Me'Shel'le, Pee Wee Herman, and myself. Let the hilarity commence!

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

47, Part 2

Sep. 11th, 2014 01:54 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (Elton_Tin)

We went to EC Tattoo at the corner of Midway and Rosecrans. This is where the Mother Unit got her wolf, and she had already told Eric they'd be back with her daughter to get a tat for her birthday the next day. He had to shrink my picture down in order for it to fit on my foot, and I also asked him to change the pink hues to green. Yeah. If pink ever ends up being permanently attached to me in any way, shape, or form, I'll just have to steal and army tank and drive into the condom-infested ocean to end it, then and there.

Eric's translation of the image into what he would be putting on my foot was nothing short of spectacular. I even love the placement of it, where the tail seems to be curving around my ankle bone. It took him a little over two hours, but it was well worth the time!



Reptile! )

There were a few instances during the tattooing, I thought I was gonna pass out from holding my breath. I had always heard that foot tattoos were exceedingly painful, so I was as prepared as I could be. Eric's music helped a great deal. He had a Spotify mix inhabiting every atom in the shop, serving up an eclectic collection of Rap, Hip Hop, Funk, Pop, R & B, and Soul. Music always makes things better, unless it's Justin Bieber... About halfway through the inking, Eric sprayed something cool on my foot and began to rub it in. Then he began inking again. This time, though, I didn't feel anything. Anything. I figured I'd either achieved a Zen state from the first 45 minutes or so, and was now channeling the Tattoo Buddha, or I had had a stroke. It was neither. That spray Eric had used could probably be used to help women, or Brian Quinn, in labour!

Here's a picture of the tat without my fish-white foot and rotated for a better look.
skin ink )



Why did I want a lizard? Not for the reason some might think. My first experience with a wild animal was with a garter snake at the age of five. I was walking in the woods next to our house with the Mother Unit, when we came upon a green garter snake. It was young, around a foot long. Mama picked it up and let me hold it for a few minutes before we placed it back down and carried on. I fell in love with the feel of cool, soft, reptilian skin on that day. That experience was what set me on the road to respecting, honouring, and adoring the natural world around us. As I got older, I began to feel a particular kinship to reptiles, because of their typical relationship with humans. They are unfairly judged as ugly, dangerous, slimy and, in some cases like the story of Genesis, downright demonic. Given my lifetime experience with humans, I've often felt like I was playing the role of the reptile - outcast and misunderstood, based mainly on my appearance. When I decided on getting five tattoos in 2000, I was determined to make the lizard on the foot happen as soon as I could.

Matt didn't get his tat yesterday, because he didn't have the image he was keen on getting. I helped him this morning collect a variety of African Greys in different shades and position for Eric to reference in creating the image Matt wants. He went over to EC Tattoos about an hour ago. As for me, I have to go to the dentist at 3 o'clock, wearing the Mother Unit's pink bedslippers, since I was instructed not to wear shoes for at least five days. It's kind of ironic that the only shoes I can safely wear are the colour to which I strongly objected in the original lizard image.



So yeah, the 47th birthday was full of surprises and an overall atmosphere of camaraderie I would never have expected in a million years. At the end of the day, I hugged both Mama and Matt, and thanked them for the good company, good food, and awesome gifts.

I also spent the rest of my night thanking everyone online who had sent me birthday wishes. Sometimes acknowledgement is the only thing a person needs to feel good. Everyone made me feel like a ridiculously special person yesterday and, for that, I'm grateful beyond my capacity to accurately verbalise.

47, Part 1

Sep. 11th, 2014 01:50 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (Elton_Tin)

When I was a kid, when my birthday rolled around, I was usually thrown a party with all adults, 'cos that's kind of what happens when you're an unpopular only child. But I loved them all the same, and was always thrilled and grateful for any presents. I was pretty low maintenance. When the family would ask me what I wanted for my birthday, as I got older, the answer was usually music, first in the forms of 45s and 33.3 RPMs, then later in CD format. But I was never one to really expect anything.

So yesterday happened. It got to a kind of shitty start with a visit to the doctor to find out I have some sort of mystery mass on my liver, and more tests need to be taken to discern if it's a danger. After that, though, the Mother Unit and Matt went into full-on "Let's surprise the flying fuck out of Tin for her birthday!" mode.

We got home from the doctor, and Matt came from upstairs to meet us, carrying a box wrapped in tinfoil. When I opened it, this was inside.



imagery, and more imagery! )

So I got a lot of learnin' to do, Lucy!

It wasn't over yet, though. They then took me to D.Z. Akin's so I could wallow around in the best omelette I've ever eaten - a three-egg lox and cream cheese omelette, with extra cream cheese. Holy fuck, that is so good! Of course, I couldn't eat all of it then. I still have about half of it, so it should all be gone by tonight. Seriously, if you ever get a chance to have a lox and cream cheese omelette, don't pass it up. It could be a mortal sin.

A couple of hours later, we got back to the house and I figured the rest of the day would be pretty mellow. I reached out to everyone who wished me a happy birthday, and began to play around with an upcoming scene from the Work In Progress.

I was wrong.

Matt informed me that they were going out again in an hour or so, as he was going to get his tattoo. He and the Mother Unit insisted I go along, because I was going to get a tattoo as well. What? The Mother Unit had gone the day before and gotten a howling wolf tat on her shoulder (pictures will be forthcoming, when she'll let me take one and share it). They knew about my Living Tree idea, and that I wanted a lizard on one foot and an Ankh on the other, for a final total of five tattoos. I decided to go with the lizard on my right foot, and began hunting for pictures to give the artist an idea of what I wanted. This was the lizard I decided on.

David Icke's worst nightmare )
tinhuvielartanis: (Asthma Hound Chihuahua)

Matt fell ill yesterday, and he's still hacking and wheezing. And he's more subdued that I've ever before seen him! Honestly, it's rather disturbing. The Mother Unit started getting sick today. I think it's just a cold but, these days, who the fuck knows? So far, I'm okay. I went through Matt's vitamin/herb bag for him, and found his olive leaf and zinc pills. Also, I offered to go get him and Mama some food. He said they had soup for tonight, so I'll see what I can do to help tomorrow. I'm wondering if Costco carries hazmat suits...

In other news, I went back to the dentist today for another exam and to get my possibly last gum impression before I get my permanent teeth. On 11 September, I go back to get an adjustment on the final shape and placement of the actual teeth. After that, it won't be long until I get the finished product. Score! One crummy aspect about all this, though, is I seem to have extra bone protrusions that are essentially gum bunions. Until I build up some callouses in the affected parts, the dentures are gonna be painful. They aren't excruciating or anything like that; they're just really touchy, and get more so, the longer I wear them. I'm taking it in stride, thinking of it as the oral equivalent of breaking in a new pair of shoes.


Have a bubonic "totallylooksalike" piccie. [livejournal.com profile] missautopsy may get a kick out of this, since she collects these kinds of surreal comparisons.

New Doctor

Jul. 8th, 2013 08:55 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (Devil Smidge)
The doctor I chose for my PCP is one Dr. Krisberg. He's an older gent and he has the personality of a wet noodle. But he listened to everything I had to say regarding my health issues, and offered up referral suggestions, as well as some procedures I needed to go by in order to go forward with my getting my knee looked after, as well as maintaining neurological care.

He also wrote out all my prescriptions, whether I needed refills on some of them right now or not, so he was quite proactive in all those arenas.

I am well-pleased with him, and I think he's going to work out fine. I'll need to go back to him in a couple of months, at which time I will discuss getting a pap-smear and a mammogram. I have had neither in years and, since I have fibrocystic breast disease, not to mention the one irregular pap I got about a decade ago, I think it may be wise if I pursue an avenue of preventative care.


After the doctor office visit, the Mother Unit and I grabbed a bit, then went to the drug store so I could get my Wellbutrin.

We're in for the evening, soaking up some Defiance and babysitting the beasties. Smidgen has begun to show an interest in Buster. I don't think she would hurt him, or any of the birds, but it's better to err on the side of safety, so I'm keeping an eye on her. I'd never forgive myself if my baby ended up harming the Mother Unit's baby. That would just be...awkward.

Okay, that's it for now. I'm eating some leftover mac'n'cheese, and enjoying the rest of Defiance with the Unit. We may turn in a little early tonight, since neither of us really slept worth one single fuck last night.

There's a possibility we'll be taking Toblerone to a beach-side dog park tomorrow, so we both need our beauty sleep for when we end up on the local news on account of Toby's bad behaviour fucking up the neighbourhood.

Lazy Sunday

Jul. 7th, 2013 04:52 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (Dark Eyes)
After eating a gigantic piece of devil's food chocolate cake and drinking water for breakfast and lunch (the piece of cake was that huge, that I started it as breakfast and finished it as lunch), I got another load of laundry in to wash and am now up here in the Mother Unit's room, chillaxin' and watching Hoarding: Buried Alive.

While the laundry is going, I'm gonna try to get my medicine bottles together for my doctor visit tomorrow. I'm trying really hard to focus on the stuff I need to focus on, so I don't fail to do what needs doing. I want to be as professional with it as I possibly can be, so as to make a decent impression on the doctor and, hopefully, get the help I need.

I've noticed that my ability to think in an organised manner is slowly returning. My thoughts aren't nearly as scattered as they used to be. I think it's a testament to how resilient the human mind can be. To have two years of nothing but steady decline not only cease, but to actually do a 180 and feel the stirrings of rejuvenation, is nothing short of momentous.

The Mother Unit, being so laid back, is more supportive than she may realise. Just her presence and acceptance of me and who I am is priceless to me.

Later on, I think the Mother Unit is going over to Jeanne's. They are planning on seeing a double feature at the local drive-in. Yes, there's a drive-in around here! She asked if I wanted to join them, but I declined. I figure the friends need to have some friend time, and the last thing I want to do is be all up in Mama's grill 24/7. Besides, after the financial obligations I had to meet, I'm already almost broke for the month.

I hope they have a hella good time at the movies. I think the two they're featuring is the new Lone Ranger movie and Monsters University. I've got my fingers crossed that they'll enjoy the flicks, and I'm sure I'll enjoy hanging out with Toby, Smidgen, and the boids. I've downloaded the Augury edit, and I'd very much like to continue working on that while the Unit is off with Jeanne. We'll see what the evening holds.

For now, though, I'm just going with the flow, having some quality time with Smidge, and savouring that mellow sensation you get when you're about to fade into a light sleep.
tinhuvielartanis: (Danny Orphaeus)
I had to ask the Mother Unit to take me to the drugstore to pick up my seizure meds. It only took about fifteen minutes or so. When I got back in the car, she asked if I wanted to go for a ride. I said sure. So she drove to Old Town San Diego, apparently the birthplace of California. It was quite pretty. We walked around a few spots and got a Tequila Sunrise, but our knees kept our visit short, so we headed back to the house.

I would have taken pictures, but I don't really have a good capability to do that right now. Hopefully, I will get to go back, when I have a charged camera.

I'm using one of my Danny icons, because I saw some beautifully-painted Dia de los Muertos skulls that I would die to bring home. :D
tinhuvielartanis: (PSA)
Even though there's a fenced in back yard here, that Toby relaxes in all day, I find myself compelled to walk him through the neighbourhood. Believe it or not, the hill back in the Armpit wasn't very conducive to walking, mainly because it had no sidewalks, and the road edges were uneven and pretty damned dangerous for anyone with knee issues.

So now I have a walking area, and lots of it, and Toby loves walking. Even though some people seem to alarm him, he's invariably always friendly with those he encounters, and he's just soaking up all the love.

I've actually walked so much, so far, that I've walked a godawful blister on the ball of my right foot. It hurts, but I've padded it nicely and I'm keeping on with the walking, despite the wonky knee on top of all that. If I keep this up, with the dinky amount of food I'm taking in, I'm going to be a freakin' bone by January. A muscular bone. With no knees. And callouses.

But it feels good to be able to walk, and to have a place to walk, and to have a dog that loves doing it. This neighbourhood reminds me of the quintessential Steven Spielberg movie 'hood. I expect a herd of kids on bikes with ET to round the corner when I'm out walking. It's all just so...Californian.

The Mother Unit has been gone for the majority of the day, off swimming I'm assuming with Jeanne, so I've spent the day chit-chatting with Matt, who seems to be a diehard conspiracy theorist. I do appreciate that! After a day of conspiracy, the Unit topped it off by coming home holding a gigantic cherry Slurpee, all for me. That was pretty damned spiffy of her.

Matt has built Toby a dog house. It's gorgeous. I think he was expecting the Tobes to stay out at night, too, but that's not gonna happen anytime soon, if I can help it. Once my room is set up, he'll definitely be in with me at night. Right now, though, the poor pooch is still too traumatised to be separate from me 24/7, so he's going to be in with me at least at night. I explained to Matt that Toby is a problem child who just went through a seriously horrid experience getting across country. So I think we have that settled for now. And it'll all be good, once the room is ready.

Anyway, when I haven't been walking, I've been zoned out in a like this half-sleep state. I called it Road Lag over on Facebook. I'm sure, once I've gotten used to the difference in time, I'll be back to my old insomniac self. Oh joy.

But I'm not complaining, not even about the inevitable insomnia. I'm just glad to have some company. I'm glad to have noise around me that isn't produced by me. I'm glad to not be haunted.

I haven't had a moment of homesickness. But you have to have had a feeling of home in order to experience homesickness, but I've essentially been homeless for two years, so the transition has been seamless. Hopefully, I'll have my room ready this week, and can stop feeling like a barnacle on the household's arse. I am not fond of being in the way and, even though the Mother Unit says that's not the case, I can't help but feel like a bit of a transient, sacked out on the living room floor with my cat in a pen next to me, and my dog hiding underneath the covers.

If I heard correctly, Matt is making pasta for supper. That sounds munchalicious. He is an excellent chef.

El Move 7

Jun. 19th, 2013 07:46 am
tinhuvielartanis: (Elton_Tin)
19 June, 2013 2:07 AM Mountain Time

We’re right at 200 miles away from San Diego.

It’s been one hell of a trip. More fucked up than I would have hoped for, but there were some good bits, like beginning some good bonding with the Mother Unit, and the tourist-y part where we detoured to Tombstone.

And I made a new friend ~ Doug. I failed to get his Internet contact information, though. Crapola. I’ll have to ask the Unit if she could give that to me, with his permission of course. And I’ll definitely share my info with him. He’s a good guy.

The Moon is huge tonight. It’s as if she’s hovering a mere six feet above the ground, her partial body a rich orange. Being able to see heavenly bodies without trees as the usual obstacles they are in the East. (I refuse to start saying “back East.” That’s such a Western expression, and I’m still way too much of an Easterner to go there yet. Maybe in a year…and a day. HA) Don’t get me wrong; I am going to desperately miss the lush forests of the Southeast, but I’d be a fool not to appreciate the opportunity to commune with the stellar symphony the desert affords. It seems like an extremely Cadmusian pastime, considering I have him galaxy-gazing more often than not in so many written scenarios.

Like son, like mother.

After some serious hardships, dealing with Facebook not wanting to share Barry’s video file, to my initial uploading of “JUJU GRID (GO LIVE)” having a seriously skewed ratio, I finally resorted to sucking off a private Internet access port ~ yes, I kinda hacked into it ~ in order to achieve what I aimed, and finally got the video onto You Tube to Barry’s satisfaction. I told him what I’d done, and that I was probably going to prison. He found that amusing, but was glad I did it. If I end up in Virtual Prison, just rename me Anonymous, the Shriekback Agent. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I doubt I ever will again, unless I have to, and Shriekback is the only reason I’d be driven down that nefarious path again. Muahahaha!

Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] paisley_daze, with her brilliant idea of posting the video to Reddit, I am hoping I reached a lot more Shriek/Barry Andrews fans that I otherwise would not have. Why I never thought about Reddit earlier is one of those mysteries I may never solve. Oh wait, it’s because I’m a dink! Nevermind. And thank you again, Sweet Sophie.

Speaking of Shriekback, after I got my shower at Doug’s, I put on my last clean outfit that I’d kept out for the trip. I’d been saving it for last. I’m wearing one of the last good-fitting pairs of pants I own, so I won’t end up mooning San Diego trying to carry my booty into the new digs. And I’m also wearing the white Shriekback tee, with the multi-coloured logo on the front. It’s a small-cut large shirt that I bought on eBay aeons ago. When I got it, it was way too small for me, but I held on it with the thought of some day…some day. Well, that some day came just a handful of months ago after I lost all this weight, thanks to the grief and the ulcer. It’s now relatively loose on me.

So I’m rolling into the new town, sporting the Shriek logo on my torso. I can’t think of a more fitting way to announce my arrival, being Darth Shriek and all. I have no idea why I’ve always held some odd superstitions about clothes and what they may mean at certain times of wearing them, but there you go ~ that’s me. I intend to wear the ELO shirt that [livejournal.com profile] booraven22 sent me sometime in the first week of my abiding in San Diego. It’s a kind of unwritten rule that I must obey.

“Cry of the Celts” by Ronan Hardiman just came on iTunes. The last time I heard that song at night, on the road, was on Midsummer’s Eve in 1997, as I followed the Harpist out into the South Carolina wilds to stargaze after having ritual at Lord Ariel’s on Parris Mountain. It was one of the most Magickal, romantic moments in my life, and I will never forget it or stop treasuring it, even though I carry with the memory some amount of pain, because of all that happened afterward.

I don’t believe in many things in this world anymore, but I will always believe in the existence of love at first sight, because it happened to me on Bealtainne of that same year, and the Celtic night of Magick a month and half later, only confirmed for me that even someone as cynical as I was capable of experiencing something so profound and devastating as such a love.

And I will always be grateful to Lord Ariel for his match-making attempts, which were above and beyond the call of duty on his part. If I didn’t love him for anything else, and I do ~ for many things, I will always love him for that.

We just crossed over into California, and iTunes switched over to “Cult of Personality” by Living Colour. Pretty kickass! :D

After spending a day and a half under a bed at Doug’s, not eating or drinking, or going to the bathroom, Smidgen is feeling her oats here in the back seat of the truck. The night is a cat’s time, anyway, and her self-imposed exile because of her trepidation of Doug’s gigantic dogs, have left her acting like a wild woman. She’s calm right now, lying beside me just outside her travel case, looking around with giant eyes. At any moment, though, she could spazz out again and try to roam the cab, and that’s why I keep the leash on her at all times when we’re on the road. I can’t have her acting the fool and getting in Jeanne’s way of driving. That’s the last bloody thing I need, but especially Smidgen. It’s bad enough I had to wrestle her from under the bed to get her in her case – it was the first time ever that I’d ever had to be rough with her. And it’ll be the last time. And no one else will be rough with her. That would be like someone taking my infant child and punching her. Just…NOT. GONNA. HAPPEN.

I got about two hours of fitful sleep last night, and finally gave up and got up a little before 6 AM. So I was already running on empty, and now I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours puttering about on the empty tank. By the time we reach our destination, I’m going to be a zombie. Brains!

“The River Sings” by Enya is now on. The iTunes is choosing odd and compelling music to score the last leg of this journey. I haven’t listened to Enya or anything Celt-related, except for Janet Russell and Talitha MacKenzie, in ages. Do I take it as a sign? I’m not certain I’m comfortable with that route just yet, if ever. We’ll see. I know that [livejournal.com profile] b_bopper55 is hoping that I recapture that flame. It’s too soon to even explore that possibility, though. If I’m able to, I did bring all my tools, so I’m not ruling out such a thing. Again, we’ll see.

I just took iTunes off shuffle, ‘cos it lighted on a Peter Gabriel song, and I want to hear more than one of his at the moment. “Come Talk to Me” is currently on. Next up is “Mercy Street,” which is my favourite song by him. When I first started fashioning the bones of what would eventually become The Chalice, a lot of music by Peter Gabriel was instrumental in creating the needed atmosphere. “Mercy Street” in particular is a deeply Vampiric song for me. So many of my Vampires having the inclination to be spiritual and religious creatures can be traced right back to this song. I always thought the harmonies had a particularly eerie church choir feel to them, and I still do. There’s a live performance of this song on You Tube that starts out with the chorus of the song being sung a capella by Peter and his singers. It’s a religious experience unto itself. If I can remember to hunt for it when I have Internet access again, I’ll be sure to post it here on The Cliffs. It’s one of those performances that, once you’ve seen it, you realise your life was pretty incomplete for having not witnessed it sooner. At least, that’s how I felt.

The time is now 3:10. I’ll write more later, if given the chance.

San Diego, California
The time is now 7:30. The Mother Unit and I are spending the day at one of the local Motel 6’s in order to give Matt some extra time to clear up more space for my intrusive butt. It’s good, though, to finally be reunited with my Bald Boy Club-members. That’s a club Matt created a few years back, which is pretty much composed of anyone who owns one of his shirts. That would be four of us ~ haha. So yeah, he’s one of the roommates, and a pretty spiff dude, IMHO. Here’s pics of the new digs, one of the Mother Unit at the front door, and one of the founding member of the Bald Boy Club, resplendent in his members only tee.

”click )

Before we parted ways, Jeanne apologised for being an ass. I decided to be amenable about it because, really, I don't need to start new in a city with bad blood from the get-go. I'll definitely watch my fur-babies around her, but I'm not going to turn all rancid immediately. Biting back like I did Monday night seemed to put a different perspective in our relationship, so we'll see how it goes.

And so ends the week-long account of El Move, at least the journey section of it. In the next few days, I’ll be writing more about getting things rebooted in this new world. Today, though, will more than likely consist of getting some rest, getting my bearings, and making a couple of calls to settle some business in SC, like where my gas refund check from Freeman is ~ ‘cos I could really freakin’ use that money right now…

Peace, Froods.

El Move 1

Jun. 12th, 2013 10:35 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (PSA)
12 June 2013 3:30

The Mother Unit, Jeanne, and I hit the road just before 3 PM. I’m sitting in the back of the truck with Toby resting on my blown-out knee, and Smidgen chillaxin’ beside me in her travel case. The door is open so she can come and go as she pleases; she’s just more comfortable with the case right now.

I ended up packing more than I expected I would. Most of what I have are DVDs and electronics. Of course, the computer is taking up residence on my other knee. So far, I’ve been able to tap into two sources of free wi-fi. I’ll be posting what I’ve written when I come into another wi-fi spot.

That said, some of what I’m writing won’t be in synch with the time I post.

Right now, we’re in Anderson County in SC. Jeanne and the Mother Unit wanted to stop at Arby’s and grab a bite. I’m not eating. I’ve been nauseated and haven’t been able to eat anything but about a half cup of chicken & rice, courtesy of Janice. I’m nursing a frozen peach drink along with some water, so it’s all good.

I know I meant to write more about how the roles in the Vampire Relics changed over time, but I just haven’t had the time and capacity of thought to engage in such shenanigans. Maybe tonight, once we’re settled in a hotel room, I can finish that up in short order.

10:30 PM

So here we are in Bessemer, Alabama. Toby is trying to illicit pity and a bite of the Mother Unit’s sandwich, and Smidgen is chilling out in the bathroom. We’re waiting for her to finally venture out of her case, but she seems relatively unconcerned about that at the mo. She’ll change her arrangements when she’s ready.

As for me, I’m freakin’ POOPED. I’m hoping all the packing and travelling will help me get at least a little bit of sleep. We’ll see.

I’ve got some pictures to upload, but my connection here at the hotel isn’t the best in the world, so maybe I’ll get to share them tomorrow.

10,000

May. 12th, 2013 10:32 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (Farce)
So this is my 10,000th post. That boggles my mind. I'd been waiting to make the post completely Shriek-centric, sort of as a tribute to my band, and to make this particular post a special thing. But I believe I have written everything that can be written about Shriekback, at least for now, so that is why I have not posted. I've been waiting for something new to write, but it's not happening.

The new computer I got had a faulty screen, so it went into the shop three weeks ago. In the interim, I'm on a loaner computer from Best Buy, which I had to wait for a week to get. Given my state of mind and my emotional state, the people on Facebook went berserk because I suddenly fell silent. I know they were expecting the worst and, honestly, I have seriously considered living up to that bleak expectation.

I need to get out of here.

The Mother Unit is thinking about retiring (her birthday was 9 May) and moving out here, so we can combine our Wonder Twin powers. I also suggested that I pack up what few things I find important, and go out to San Diego, so her life wouldn't be turned so upside down. My life is already upside down, so it wouldn't be much of an issue. I should know something concrete by the end of the month.

I feel like if I could change my haunted situation, I would be able to write here more, and not be so depressing when I do post. Until that happens, the posts here will remain sporadic, as will my general visits to LJ. We'll see what the near future holds.

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