All art is at once surface and symbol

Mom noticed that Freddie was looking pretty sad, so she put him on her lap and started petting him. She started talking about Amanda and reassured him how much Amanda loved him, and as she was doing that, Freddie started licking the pillow they were sitting on because he knew Amanda sat on it too. It's the closest he could get to kissing her. ;;

It's okay, Freddie. Soon we'll get another doggie and Amanda will be happy knowing you won't be lonely anymore. ;;

Things My Mother is Allergic To

• Dogs


• Cats


• Happiness


• Making comments without the slightest hint of criticism


• Going five seconds in Dad's presence without nagging and hen-pecking him


• Not showing off her "gratitude" by reminding Dad of something he's forgotten or a mistake he's made whenever he goes out on errands for her or buys her a gift


• Good memories (but she's more than happy to remember some insignificant fight Dad or I had with her just to criticize us even more)

If Mom doesn't want me to get another pet, she should outright say so. That way, I wouldn't spend so much time going through Pet Finder and other adoption sites looking for chinchillas and dogs and whatnot. I go through all the trouble to look up hypoallergenic dogs for her and offer to bring helpful research articles and honest reviews of dog breeds, but she shuts me down every time. I suggest dogs like Shih-Tzus and Malteses, and she whines about how she'll only listen to what her allergist told her (whom she hasn't met in 18 years) which is Poodles or Bichon Frises or nothing. Since she considers Poodles to be too "high-strung" and smart, I look up Bichon Frises (and from Corpus Christi, the nearest Bichons up for adoption are in San Antonio) and manage to find a dog who looks just like Amanda. Rather than be fascinated like my Dad was, Mom goes on and on making up excuses how ZOMG HE LOOKS LIKE A MALTESE MIX (his Pet Finder page lists him as a purebred) and I WANT THE POOFY BICHON LOOK AND WE WERE NEVER ABLE TO GET THAT WITH AMANDA and nitpicking the living hell out of him like she does with Every. Single. Fucking. Thing.

She had the fucking gall to excuse me of being selfish because I wanted presents for my birthday. What the FUCK.

I told her that I wanted another dog for my birthday. I told her that Amanda would've wanted me and Freddie to move on. (And it's not like Mom is still grieving for Amanda, considering she explicitly told me that she'd think about having another dog in the family. She even told me she loved pugs and wished she could have one, but can't because she's allergic) I told her how therapeutic pets are for me and how important it was for me to be surrounded by animals for my mental health. I told her that I felt like she was finding excuses for why I can't get a dog though I did everything I could to accommodate her needs, and that I felt hurt by that. So she goes and digs up all the mistakes I've ever made with Freddie, saying how OMG YOU'RE NOT RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH and YOU DON'T BRUSH FREDDIE ENOUGH AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HIS COAT WHEN HE GOT TOO MATTED and YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A JOB and did her best to make me sound like the most neglectful parent in the universe. 'Cause you know, forget that I've been taking Freddie on various trips to the dog park and other places you're allowed to walk dogs. Forget that I gave him a bath before one particular dog event so he would look and smell nice. Forget that I realized shearing him was a mistake and that I've been brushing his fur to make sure I don't do something careless like that again (Hell, I'm the only one who brushes and bathes him, and he's supposed to be the family pet. I certainly don't see Mom taking the effort to brush him). Forget that I volunteer my ass off at the Cattery and Gulf Coast Humane Society. Forget that I clean Ryu's cage every week and give him his dust baths when needed. Nope, I'm just an irresponsible git who neglects the pets she already has. Oh yeah, and then Mom goes and grumbles and rants and stews what horrible and awful and nasty and illogical people Dad and I are to my brother. That's always fun.

No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to address her concerns, Mom is just going to keep making up excuses. Because she won't outright tell me that I can't have a new dog because she's allergic to happiness and any effort I try to reduce or escape the drama and misery of the household.

So once again, I'm left in a position I hate. I fucking hate arguing. So I either don't say anything and be passive and let troubles stew in my mind, or I call her out for her selfishness and it results in a screamfest. I fucking hate this and I feel like I'm turning into a horrible person because of all the fights I get stuck in with my Mom. I don't want to be a person who starts fights and yells all the time. But Mom's already made me into one.

It's not like I can discuss this with Dad either, because either Dad will shut down or make excuses for Mom and how I shouldn't treat her like a bad person.

I think at this point I can pretty much say goodbye to going to Portland this year. Jimmy barely has enough money to get by and so does Aspen. Unless I get a job that makes me millions of dollars, I'm fucked. I get the feeling I probably won't be able to go to Portland at all. And I have absolutely nowhere else to go.

I was clearly too optimistic last post. 'Cause now I remember WHY we've never succeeded in making our house look "normal" and clean enough to invite neighbors over.

Me: *dumps a bunch of garbage-looking papers in a bag*
Dad: OMG THOSE PAPERS MIGHT BE IMPORTANT DON'T MIX THEM NOW I HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE ENTIRE BAG
Bag: *sits there and is never checked, so it becomes a part of the house's mess*

And he yells at me if I've already thrown the bag out.

What's the fucking point? Every little scrap of paper is apparently of ~*~enormous significance~*~ and something important will be OMG LOST FOREVER if it's thrown out. So if I'm sorting papers the "wrong way" by mixing what could be "important" papers with "garbage," I'll just get lectured and yelled at by Dad. Mom does the same thing, and her room is the most impossible place to clean in our garbage heap of a home.

No wonder we never get anything fucking finished. No wonder this house will never get clean.

Ryu had quite a day today! ( tw: Eye Scream aka Puri's too squeamish to be a vet ) He's been calm throughout the whole thing and never tried to escape. He's such a good boy. ;; The vet said she was also impressed how old he is, since the oldest chinchilla she had evermcared for was around eight years old (Ryu is 10-11).

Ryu's like the Snow White of the pet world; everybody who meets him loves him. ♥ The people outside in the waiting room were curious about my chinchilla, and a lady asked me if she could pet him. She's so enchanted and amazed how soft he is! Then she asked if she could take a picture of him with her cell phone, which I said of course, haha. I talked to the other patients and visited their pets while waiting on Dad and Ryu, hehe. A lady had two rescue doggies, both mixed, and one of them is likely to have Chinese Crested in her. :o The poor things were so nervous. I saw a couple with a Siberian husky mix, and I talked to them about Ryu, but I couldn't let them pet him because I didn't want their dog to jump all over me and him. :o

Ryu's currently relaxing in his little house right now, occasionally running on his UFO wheel. I'm so glad he's doing okay. ;;

70% of his liver has cancer. Or his colon. I can't remember which. But Uncle Ricke can't get donated a new liver because his colon is too cancerous. The hospital is contacting other doctors to see what they can do. But at this point... part of me wants to hold on to hope that he'll be okay and they'll find a way. That he'll recover like Freddie did. That some sort of miracle would occur. But it's looking extremely unlikely.

The worst part is this all could have been prevented. If he had access to screenings when he was fifty, they would've caught it early and saved him. He doesn't even have health care.

My uncle has Stage 4 colon cancer. And he didn't find out about it until last Tuesday. The hospital can't do surgery on him because the tumors are too big. Chemotherapy is all they can do right now.

Please oh please oh please oh god please don't let him die.

Yay, feeling like a sack of garbage is fun. I've been struggling with sleep problems again, and it figures that the day I finally have enough energy to start my final paper for history class, Mom had to be super bitchy and get in a fight with me and Dad, so it made me feel too miserable to concentrate on even starting it. Fuck. I just went to talk to a counselor and managed to contact Dad, he says he might be able to help me with my essay. Guh. I just want the day to end and my paper to go poof.

Anyhoo, made my areyougame claims:

December 2 - Pokémon Conquest, Oichi: Karaoke – Occasionally, she and Jigglypuff liven things up with a bit of song.
December 6 - Pokémon, Any: legendary pokemon – unexpectedly loves ear scritches
December 17 - - Pokemon, Serena/Shauna: first kiss - feels like watching fireworks.
December 18 - Serena/Emma: affection - Emma has a crush on Serena, and tries to figure out how to tell her.
December 24 - Amnesia: The Dark Descent, Alexander/Daniel: fairytale au - the big bad wolf comes to feast on your heart.

I'm so rusty on Conquest, but thankfully, fic only needs to be at 100 words, so a quick overview shouldn't hurt. It's the Amnesia one that'll probably have me digging my own grave. :/ I have such a creepy plotbunny for that particular prompt though, and I couldn't resist. :o Hint: involves wine and meat.

I wonder if there'll be interesting treat prompts for Yuletide this year.

Ugh, back to feeling like crap.

Sadly, Sydney hasn't come home to us yet, and we don't know if he ever will. :( But the most unusual thing happened today! While I was at university, Dad was cleaning his car, and this large dog jumped into the back seat and wouldn't leave. :o We don't know what breed she is yet, but she's got a black and silver coat with brown eyes and she's very pretty. ;; She's got wounds around her neck though, like someone kept her tight on a leash or something. :( She seems really starved for affection; she's constantly kissing us and is very sweet. She doesn't even chase the chickens in the backyard like Freddie does. :o Usually she's sleeping or drinking a lot of water, but so far hasn't eaten much, even when given a doggie treat. She follows Mom into her room and doesn't ever want to leave her side. :o She's thin, but thankfully not emaciated. We have no idea if she's lost or escaped from a bad home or what. Either way, we're looking up suitable names for her. :o So far, we're considering Cosette, since she's a beautiful kindly doggie that we saved from the streets. ;;

Mom took a picture of her with Dad, so I hope I'll be able to upload it and share with everyone soon.

I don't know if I'll be joining Yuletide this year. Not a whole lot of fandoms interest me except Dynamite Headdy, Gender/Sexbent Disney by Ripushko, Madoka, and maybe Space Funeral and Candle Cove. And I don't feel like attempting Twisted Princesses again until Twisted Olivia exists. :P Wasn't there a lot of wank at Yuletide last year too? I dunno, but I heard stories. *shrug* I'm more interested in the Pokemon Exchange, which I'll link to next post, nom.

Back to improving my sleep patterns. I dunwanna study for my midterrrrm... *cries*

Me: "I finished cleaning the floor of the kids' bathroom last night. I'll take care of the sink tomorrow."

Optimist: "You're doing a great job! It looks beautiful!"
Pessimist: *waits until they think I'm asleep* "Well, the floor is clean, but she didn't do the toilet and the sink, whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine."

Guess which is Dad and which is Mom.

Yeah, thanks for the encouragement, Mom. I appreciate your gratitude. I could win the fucking lottery and all you'd think of is how careless I'd be and spend it all within a day.