“Christian” Person: “You like skulls? Why are you into such dark things?” 



Just Marketing

You know what’s wonderful about all these new reboots they’ve been making lately? No one took the originals away from us. Isn’t that great? 

Try telling that to the rest of my geek community. 

Lately I have seen a great deal of hate towards reboots. Ghost Busters got tons of hate. PokemonGo is getting smashed on by former Gameboy Pokemon players here and there. I just don’t get all the hating, because they didn’t take away the originals from the geek community. All they did was make something new with an old name.

I mean, no one has to like anything if they don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean you attempt to ruin the enjoyment for someone else. 

It isn’t like they took the old one away and said it was dead or obsolete. Or that it somehow was mysteriously and completely eradicated from the face of the Earth. Or that it was completely replacing the originals and suddenly all our VHSs and DVDs are playing the new version by some kind of unknown technological sorcery. They just used a name from a franchise to make something new and diffrent for the new and diffrent generation. 

Why is the Geekdom getting so hyped up about it? Because they’re passionate. That’s exactly what drives most of a franchise: the fans dedication to their brand. SPOILER ALERT: franchises need to update as their former fans get older. Why? To make more money and continue to be relevant as their former fans die off. (Yes, even geeks die…unless their published.) That’s the way it’s always been. They don’t need to cater to you anymore, you’re old hat. You’ve been enculturated into the former fandom. They had you and they’re over you. Now they’re moving on. Usually to your children (assuming some of our geeky friends have found fellow geeky companions to procreate with). That’s just marketing folks and it’s okay. Why? Because some former fans might actually like the new stuff too, and they’re allowed to, but it’s still okay for original fans because the original still exists and it meant something to them and continues to. 

So quit hating on the reboot culture so much, and let other people enjoy stuff in their own unique and geeky way. 


I’ve slept so much the past few days that I find I’m super hungry today. Probably from the meal skipping, but it could be because of boredom. I’m not sure. All I know is I keep throwing frozen veggies into condensed cream of soups in hopes of making them feel more filling.

Part of my problem isn’t just the missing meals. It’s that I really don’t have many groceries, and to be perfectly frank, I can’t afford them right now. Which makes me get more creative in hopes of filling my stomach and giving me enough energy to get through the days ahead. 

Money problems are not new for me, but recently I had a bit of an issue with some tax forms, and my guy and I realized that we had made a mistake on my taxes. It was a nerve wracking day when he called me to go over some things and we realized the mistake. After getting off the phone and pretending all was calm, I broke down and had a panic attack. People go to jail for this kind of thing. I freaked out. Like really freaked out. 

There are few things that trigger my anxiety like money does. Actually only one other thing does: my irrational fear of alligators. Money is my primary anxiety. Do I have enough? Did I save enough? What did I spend money on that I probably shouldn’t have? Did I need it? Really need it? Sometimes it gets so bad I’ll sit and contemplate the ethics of using toilet paper or needing soaps to bathe (I mean the pioneers didn’t have it so why do I?). I only go grocery shopping once a month and can live pretty well off $150 worth of foods if I get family size packages of pork and chicken, sale prices frozen veggies, bag of apples, bag of onions, bag of baby reds, condensed soups, cereal, milk, and sandwich stuff. I do pretty well. If I have money to spare I’ll buy some bags of bagels occasionally…or booze.

Thankfully I was able to get the right tax amendment paperwork together and everything paid straight away. It didn’t leave me much though, and took a good chunk out of my buffer fund, which had been looking sad enough as I found myself taking nibbles out of it here and there without reimbursement. Several hundred dollars later I’m living of buttered noodles and cream of condensed soups mixed with frozen veggies. Soon it’ll all be noodles and a bunch of flours (like rye and soy stuff) my mom gave me when my dad was diagnosed with Celiacs disease (made in factory’s that have wheat in them apparently and that’s just as bad as eating wheat I’m told). Better than living off dollar store food, which is basically candy, cookies, and crackers. Occasionally Raman, but our local branch has a hard time keeping that in stock for some reason, and it’s not worth driving to the far side of town to get stuff. All of course are wonderful foods to snack on occasionally, but only temporarily filling. 

I suppose skipping meals because I’m tired in a bit of a blessing in disguise since I don’t have much food in the first place and having missed my thyroid pills earlier this week I’m sleeping more instead of eating. Thus, I don’t need the food as badly. Tonight I managed to put noodles and mixed veggies in tomato soup for dinner. It was kind of like spagettios. I have half of it left for lunch at work tomorrow. I had a couple handfuls of some trail mix (which should just be called reason mix because it’s seriously just reasons with an occasional nut, banana chip, or dried pineapple piece in it) and a huge 20oz Tervis full of water a while ago to quell my hunger. Tomorrow morning will be a cup of coffee. That will hold me until lunch, and thankfully tomorrow is pay day, and I can go grocery shopping after work. 

I realize this post is not  at all exciting so I’ll end it with “and then I killed a man” to add interest. How I allegedly killed said man and why will remain unsaid because, of course, it never happened, but feel free to leave your speculations or imaginings of such an event in the comments below if you feel so inclined. That is all. 

Missed My Meds

I had forgotten to refill my prescription in the hustle and bustle of the week. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. My thyroid has had problems for a while now, and though I would be tired from forgetting to take the pill, I could usually push through the week pretty well. So I ordered more pills, picked them up the next day (of course I was exhausted as usual) and began the regiment all over again. No big deal. 

Apparently my body decided it was a big deal. 

Monday had been hard. I woke up feeling heavy and achy, almost like I was having the highest blood sugar of my life, but I wasn’t. I was at 97. Pretty much ideal. I felt horrible though. A whole new level of tired. I couldn’t afford to call into work though. Corporate had asked for pictures of a big floor move to send to the board. I wasn’t quite ready because all of the posters and wall decals for it hadn’t come in yet. So I went to work. Cleaned up and organized the area to prepare it for the images (due on Tuesday) and waited. It wasn’t until an hour and a half before I was supposed to clock out that the collateral showed up (it was actually meant to arrive on the previous Friday, but as in most companies Friday means the following Monday). I grabbed the dock manager and a few ladders and in that time we had managed to get things pretty well set. At least photo suitable, with the exception of a few posters I could hang myself the next morning. Things were rushed, but complete, but exhaustion was hitting pretty hard, and I ended up in bed an hour after I came home…at 4 pm. 

Tursday I woke up feeling heavy as a large boulder, but knew I had too much to do. I drank 3 cups of coffee and went to work as if I hadn’t had any coffee at all. I was that tired. I finished the project, got all the posters hung. Took the photos I needed, and proceeded to attempt to send them from my phone via e-mail. It wasn’t working. The wifi in our store was bad and I couldn’t use my 3G in the building. So I sat in the parking lot for 20 min, and finally got the pictures sent. I returned to my computer to check out daily calendar to be greeted by a mass e-mail saying something in our written instructions was wrong, and that we had to retake our images of it was completed in correctly. Deja Vu set in as I sat in the parking lot , this time for about 25 min, sending updated images.

That afternoon was slow, and because of short staffing, I was stuck in the slowest of all departments: cosmetics. I had a total of two customers in 4 hours, and thankfully they all bought over $200 worth of makeup, because otherwise I’d have thrown myself off the building. At least it had been worth it. 

Today, I hit a wall. I went to work. Set up for the sale, and by 9am I knew I wouldn’t make it through the day. I have only called off work (in the last three years) twice. I don’t like missing work. I like being busy and really can’t afford to be off. However, today I couldn’t make it. I left two hours early, and have slept for the last three hours. I could sleep more, but my insulin pump went off informing me that I was out of insulin, so I answered to that call. Yet, I am a whole new level of exhausted. It’s something else for real, a whole other sense of tired, and I can’t wait for my meds to kick back in. Hopefully next Monday I’ll feel better. 

Brutal Depression

As I got into my car, the heartache I was keeping at bay finally spilled over. I had never felt so completely broken apart, though I’ve said that to myself before, and the worst thing was, that nothing had actually happened to cause it. I went from feeling amazing that I accomplished so much at work today, to suddenly being overcome with a deep sense of hopelessness, and wishing I was dead. 

Mental illness is something very difficult to figure out. For the longest time I had never actually identified myself as depressed. You see, that word had been handed to me when I was much older, but while I was younger I recognized that there was something within me that was changing, and wasn’t quite right. When I was diagnosed with diabetes at age 9, “depressed” was a word used to describe chemical imbalances that could very well be caused by my diabetes. I accepted this truth, and as it got worse and worse as I got older, I began to wish the term had never been handed to me. That I could just call it being sad. That it didn’t even exist. 

Today I laid in bed after work. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t do anything. Eventually I got up and took some Saint Johns Wort. Then I laid on the couch. My boyfriend called. Asked if I was okay. Then and only then did the tears start flowing. It was embarrassing. How do you tell someone who loves you that out of nowhere you found yourself wishing you were dead? How do you explain further that there is absolutely no reason for it in your life? How do you tell them it’s not because you don’t love them, that it’s nothing they did, and that you don’t think you can be cheered up today? How? How the fuck do you tell them that they’re amazing, but you just wish you weren’t alive anymore? 

How do you tell them when you suddenly feel better, and go back to moments of normal? How do you reconcile those emotions and problem to them? How do you tell them it isn’t lashing out for attention, that it ligit happens this way? That it passes sometimes. How do you tell them that sometimes it doesn’t pass for a long time and it’s not their fault? How do you get them to understand? 

None of it makes sense. None of it.