I'm sitting here in my living room trying to ignore the sharp throbbing stabbing pain that is traveling around my head and then back again over and over. This isn't an easy feat, due to the fact that Ruff is disgruntled with me and is laying down staring at me and doing this high pitched whistle/whine thing he does through his nose.

This all started (The weird headache, not Ruff being disgruntled) last night at some point. One second I'm fine, making Enchiladas and Quesadillas, having dinner and then after dinner dorking around (which included reading and listening to Depeche Mode....no, this is not the fault of my music choices).....next min, WHAMMO, feels as if someone is pressing an ice pick into my skull right above my left eyebrow.

Ice picks aside, I continued with my evening. I've gotten migraines off and on since I was a kid and since this was no where near migraine power-

oh wait, the pain has looped down to my left temple and around to the back of my head. Well shit.

I decide that now is the time to escape light and wakefulness and go to bed. Paul was kind enough to get me some Advil and I went to sleep, thinking I'd be able to escape the pain. This morning I woke up and yeah, it's still here. I'm hoping this isn't the warning signal that I'm about to have an aneurysm cause I'm drinking a monster right now in hopes that the caffeine will help, and I'm not all that sure that a Monster will help a maybe aneurysm.

As to why Ruff is disgruntled, in case inquiring minds want to know- he wants to go for a walk. He's just started to be able to venture out for walks a small amount at a time since his treatment and he takes this privilege very seriously. As much as I like giving him his small happiness', I'm still wary about walks due to the fact he has to avoid most activity like the plague if he doesn't want to give himself a blood clot. Also, he has the tendency to poop on other people's yards and I hate that- so I don't usually take him till he goes in our yard first. As of yet this morning, he hasn't gone and therefore I'm not taking him on a walk....hence his bitching at me.

Any advice on how to rid myself of this head pain?

You know, it's funny. When I opened this page, intent on writing a blog- I really had no idea whatsoever as to what I would be writing about. Jokers about that being the usual case with my blogs can keep quiet, thank you.

I was about to write a paragraph here about how while sitting here something dawned on me as to what to write- but I was distracted by Christian plopping down on the couch next to me and asking me to check out some video on YouTube. *Sigh* Alright, click type, click click... turned out to be some sort of over the top pro-republican video that involved country singers. I attempted to close the window and get back to this, and yep, another video was requested. Christian and his magical power of rabbit trailing was spreading.

Ok, so Christian and Jimmy left for work and here I am, able to get back to...what was I supposed to be writing about? Oh yeah, I remember- I was going to complain about my writers block. Doesn't make much sense does it, writing about a lack of the ability to do so. According to wikipedia, it is defined as:

Writer's block is a phenomenon involving temporary loss of ability to begin or continue writing, usually due to lack of inspiration or creativity.

My lack of inspiration seems to be an ongoing event. I can make you character after character, different in so many ways- I can tell you about how they feel about abstract things and what they may wear next tuesday if it rains- but plot? Plot? What's that? I'm being a bit harsh on myself, I usually have a beginning and a hazy ending bouncing around in my head- it's all that middle stuff that frankly, eludes me. What is there to do about it? I'm not sure. I know I'm a good writer, in fact, I can be excellent on some occasions- but my lack of finished product....it angers me.

Authorship is exhibitionism, and readers a species of voyeur. ~Carrie Latet

People don't want their lives fixed. Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas. Their distractions. Their stories resolved. Their messed cleaned up. Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown. -CP

And withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not. - 1 Timothy 13

He that covereth a transgression seeketh love: but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends. - Proverbs 17, 9

私は書くことを止めるか、または私が既に言ってしまったことを取除くことを断る。 あなたの1つはあなたの刺激を再考するべきである。 あなたの1つは誰かにそれについて話したら、問題はもはや私用ではなかったことを意識するべきである。

I woke up this morning (and by morning I mean afternoon) and nothing immediately struck me as being different. I was still about a foot from the ceiling in the insanity that I call a bed, I could hear my neighbors yelling, and my back was twinging with the threat of full on pain. Nothing new.

But yet...yes, there is a lot new. For those of you who haven't heard- I'm a married woman now. Yep, Paul made an honest women out of me- (that's a really weird phrase isn't it...isn't it just as honest before?)  I have yet to put wedding pictures up due to the fact that mein mutti has them and prying the camera out of her hands is a difficult task.

We're in the middle of moving into Christian's half of the duplex that up until now, I was living (basically) illegally in. We're also in the middle of trying to find a house to rent. Which I think has the potential to be a sitcom or the plot of a hatecrime going somewhere to happen. It'll be a tattoo sporting, crazy hair white 22 year old woman with a good ole' boy 36 year old man and an 19 year old black woman moving in together. I'm sure the neighbors will be confused. In davie, they may just be angry. (Mental note: Brenna don't look at houses in Davie).

But yeah, as I was driving down 441 the other day listening to NIN I realized...wait a second, why am I not over identifying with every lyric right now to the point where hey- herion works for Trent, it may work for me? It was confusing, to say the least. Yep, I'll admit it. I'm happy. I'm really happy. And even past that, I think I'm slipping into the "content" area of the emotional spectrum. Weird, huh? Yeah, I never thought it would happen to me either. Of course all this lack of angst is weirding me out a bit...

;-)

What do you do when the only emotions you can muster are loss and confusion?

I just dropped my resume off at the Humane Society. Just driving into the parking lot was an accomplishment for me.

I can’t really tell you how many hours I spent in the Humane Society as a child, but I’ll make a guess that my parent brought me there at least twice a year every year from age five until they got divorced when I was ten. I don’t know why I was subjected to this torture, and when I’ve asked about it I get deflected. All I’ve ever wanted was a dog- it didn’t matter size, shape, color, age...all I wanted was a dog. I had dog books and dog stuffed animals and when I had friends who had dogs I spent quite a lot of time at their houses just playing with the animal.

My mom had, and has, asthma. When I was younger it was extremely bad and there would be no way I could have any sort of animal with fur. My parents knew this, and yet my dad continually tourtued me with talking about when I could get a dog. My mother for some reason indulged my obsession and my father’s lies and took me to the Humane Society....where I was paraded around the kennels and allowed to fall in love with so many desperate faces and then taken home crying inside (never outside because, if you recall, that was not allowed).

Ok, so I’m an adult now (according to the state and the government, maybe not an idea held by friends and family) and I’ve decided I want to work with animals (go figure.) The Humane Soceity, place of many a broken dream for Brenna, is hiring. I go, I fill out application and attach my resume. I decide that I’ll go tourture myself this time, instead of anyone else doing it- and I go look in the kennels.

Of course, there are several dogs that catch my attention...one in particular who’s personality just seemed....I dunno, he seemed like he ’got’ me, if that makes any sense. As I stood there petting him through the fencing door it struck me...I’m an adult. Yeah, I’m strapped for cash right now- but if I wanted I could walk into the next area and adopt him. It’s 90 bucks that I could easily waste on something else and here is a dream wagging it’s tail in front of me. Just like in my childhood, ideas flash through my head. Dog and myself going for long walks. Dog and I playing games. Taking Dog to dogpark and running around. Taking Dog for car rides. Having Dog to hug and cry on when I need him. Feeding Dog, Bathing Dog.

Doubt quickly invaded my mind. I’m not even really able to take care of myself financially. I may be masquerading as an adult, but I’m still very much dependant. And once again, I felt horribly crushed. I petted Dog, wished with all my heart someone kind would adopt him and walked out to my car, once again crying on the inside.

It’s amazing what just doesn’t change.

Sooooo...I’ve been trying (trying is the word to watch) to get on a normal sleeping schedule. Yeah, I thought that was funny too.

So I attempted to go to bed early-ish...but didn’t get crap done before one, so that’s when I went to bed. Needless to say I didn’t actually fall asleep till around quarter till 3.....and now I’m awake. In fact, I woke up around twenty after 8.

My body is obviously fucking with me. "Oh, so the brain wants to be on a ’normal’ sleeping schedule, we’ll give it normal! BWAHAHAHAHAH"

I have several things I need to do today, including go to a piercer and get my nostril screw taken out and replace it with a ring. The keilod is getting bigger next to my piercing and I need to get the pressure off it. I was reading that hydrocortisone cream will fix the issue, but I’m going to ask the piercer what they think.

Adam and Burn fly in today and I’m supposed to be going down to Miami with them and drinking. I’m excited about seeing them, but I have no clue as to what to do with them. I was supposed to find a goth night, but there are none on thursdays...so then I looked for clubs near their hotel, but they are all pretty far away and we had wanted to walk. Grrrrr. I suck.

Oh, and I think I decided on a variant of my next tattoo.

I have a bit of a headache. Everything and nothing constantly changes around me which is both disconcerting and comforting. I spend the majority of my time with Paul, and I suppose you could say the rest I spend mostly alone. This is my choice. It's more than a bit lonely during the many hours Paul is away...but recently I've been lacking in people I trust enough to spend lengthy amounts of time with other than him.

Work is interesting and has actually taught me quite a bit about myself in the last three weeks. I meet new people continually.

As I said, I have a bit of a headache and I just sliced open my finger attempting to open a bottle of guinness stout. That'll teach me to invest in a bottle opener, aye?

The constant sick to my stomech feeling was apparently due to my birthcontrol, and since I've stopped taking it I've quickly gotten better. Of course this affords new and interesting issues, so I'm waiting for my next period to start using the nuvaring, which...in it's alien-ness, worries me.

I miss Heber City. I miss Utah. But at the very same time, I do love Florida. I just wish I could find my place here, hell- wish I could find my place anywhere. I am, however, very excited that Adam and Burn will be down here for two days before their cruise. It will be nice to be around real friends again, even if it's only for two days.

I'm not sure if he reads this anylonger, but I want to wish Jaison a very happy birthday. I hope he knows how much I love him.

I still have a headache, and my finger is trying to bleed on my keyboard. *sigh*

I woke up not knowing where I am.

Of course, this wasn't an all together alien feeling. (You can take from that what you will.)
But after a moment or two of *blinkblink* my location dawned on me and I smiled.

I'm in my apartment. I'd like to re-write that. I'm in MY apartment. Not my mothers. I'm not too sure yet as to why I'm so excessively excited about this. I've lived in apartments before, I've moved more than a few times in the last year or so- but there's just something different here....more of an overwhelming feeling over ownership? Does that make sense?

I feel obligated to say something about St. Valentine's day...but srs, it's never been that big of a deal to me. Paul's working late today and according to several people who acted aghast about this, they feel I should be disgruntled. Maybe I'm missing some sort of important female component that causes Feb. 14th to be a big stupid deal, but *shrug*. However, I WILL say, that despite what I've said above, I was really pleased with the earrings and nifty cast of a saber tooth tiger's skull P. gave me last night. lol, yeah despite all my trying to not be girlie, I still giggled like a kid with ADHD who found some unguarded chocolate.

A question that has been bothering me since yesterday is....Why does Ikea sell stuffed animals in the shape of a Bat, a Rat, and a Spider? They are life size (cept the spider). I would think these aren't normally the type of stuffed animals you give to kids and may just give normal kids nightmares....of course Paul got them for me.

And to wrap this rambling blog up...some PIG lyrics:

This is the good for my belief, this is the gun for my relief
This is the GOD
This is the GUN
One is for killing one is for fun... fun... FUN!

POW POW! easy come POW POW POW easy go
POW POW! easy come POW POW POW easy go
This is the good for my belief, this is the gun for my relief
This is the GOD
This is the GUN
One is for killing one is for fun

I could kill someone tonight, slip and slide to the hurt and high
Run around with a
Switchblade
Come with you in the morning light...

One of the nurses from the vet's office just called me to see if I was ok. How kind can you get?

~~

To let you know what's going on....

All week I had noticed Jack had been breathing a bit oddly, off and on....but I dissmissed it as him just running around and getting out of breath...

Yesterday he curled himself up under a chair outside, and wasn't going anywhere. He struggled to edge over so I could pet him. Of course, I started freaking out. Called the humane society, called the ASPCA...eventually I just took him over to the vet near my house. Mind you, I have no money for the vet- but what could I do?

They want to take x-rays for 120 bucks. The doctor then explains that most likely- even with the x-rays, it will have a bad result cause his bladder was swollen and he couldn't pee....and she could feel toumers inside of him.

Of course I'm bawling cause I'm a big looser and prob crying more over this rabbit then I'd cry over most humans. They say the best thing for me to do is to put him to sleep (which cost just as much as the x-ray) ....I'm glad I had already held him and petted him goodbye because she said it prob wouldn't be good for me to be with him because he had gotten much worse and was bleeding now.... I still feel badly that I wasn't there as he died, I feel like a coward and that the last words I said to the little guy were a lie,"You're going to be ok."

Of course, more crying insued as they gave me back his cage....and when I got home, full blown sobbing insued. Then later when I thought I was cried out, Paul and I were sitting in the back yard talking and more crying happened.

*sigh*