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EvenstarNikki
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Birthday: 6/26/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: Movies, Xanga, myself.
Expertise: Being depressed, being observant, anything involving movies, and trying to figure out how to bathe and post at the same time...
Occupation: Unemployed/Between Jobs
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
4/4/2003
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| Sites To Check Out |
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My Flixster reviews. It's a fun site for anybody who watches movies.
ARROW IN THE HEAD movie reviews. One of the best movie sites out there.
THE CAVALCADE OF SCHLOCK movie reviews. Perhaps the site I've been visiting longer than any other. I think I've been going there for almost seven years. Great stuff.
MADDOX's site. Yes, he makes me laugh. If only he updated more often. |
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| And we're back to not seeing the point in posting anymore.  No wonder my average on b77 has stayed the same throughout the years - my mood is as regularly up as it is down. While there are times I stay away from the boards, there are as many times that I'm writing all over it. There really is a corrolation between how I feel and how much I post. I'm never stable, of course, but when I'm not posting here or on the boards, that means I'm really not handling it well.
As for mood swings, well, let's take yesterday for example. I woke up feeling like a million bucks because the night before, I had taken a long, hot shower which actually made me feel good afterwards. That rarely happens. I plucked my eyebrows and put lotion on my face, so the skin felt really excellent. Usually I wake up sore and groggy, but yesterday my back didn't hurt, my neck was fine, I wasn't tired, etc. Yay! It was about two in the afternoon, but I guess it's better than three in the afternoon. Anyway, I made a delicious spaghetti meal and just started to eat it when Krystle called to ask if I wanted to visit the SPCA shelter with her again. Sure, but I had just woken up and couldn't finish my meal in ten minutes, let alone change and brush my hair, etc. But I tried. And then I am ready with time to spare and start packing my bag... to discover the camera is missing. With growing frustration, I realize that Scott must have it, meaning that he went through my fucking room again to get it, meaning that I couldn't take pictures of the animals. No worry, right? It's not like they'll be adopted or put down. I don't mind at all, Scott, take your time with it. Help yourself to my piggybank while you're at it! I won't need the money or anything.
I was put at ease once we got to the shelter, thankfully, because it's just so nice to see all those cats and dogs. I undid my shoelaces so the kittens could play with them, and then some of the others laid on my shoulder or in my arms. Off topic, but what made me most sad about the film GRIZZLY MAN was knowing that this guy simply couldn't relate to human beings and I guess found what he was looking for in wild bears. I don't have that much of a deathwish, but could still see a lot of myself in him, even the embarrassingly psycho parts. I feel more comfortable being around my dog than I do most people, and can project any thought or feeling I want, even though she probably isn't capable of it with such a tiny brain. For this reason, I think I would be happier with lots of pets around me. Humans, I can't deal with.
Earlier in the day, I had bashed my head with a car door, so that started to make me feel sick. It's right at the hairline and not immediately recognizeable, but definitely there. Especially when I touch it (ouch). Swollen, too. Krystle and I picked up some drinks at Tim Horton's on the way home, which burned my tongue and still hurts. I go online and read a post that makes me so mad I want to punch someone in their fucking face. It wasn't even directed at me, I just get worked up by certain attitudes in general. Would like to control it, but sometimes, depending on my mood or what is said/who says it, I find myself harping on their assholery for the rest of the night. Lastly, I sign into Yahoo IM for a quick read and find out some news that I still haven't been able to grasp fifteen hours later. All I'll say is this: I doubt I'll ever again believe any of you when you say you're going through a rough time. It'll work out, and good things are around the corner. For you. And like everyone else, you'll be too happy to bother with twats like me and I'll be sad about having lost another friend.
So let's cut to the chase: everybody leave me alone. You have lives, I don't. You'll either hurt me now or later on. I'm not interested in getting my hopes up, so just forget about me. After years of conflicting feelings, there is just no other answer. If someone puts me down, I'm upset. If they say something nice about me, I think they're lying. If I'm openly crying and my family ignores me, I'm angry with them. But if they talk to me I don't even know what to say. They would just talk about themselves or say something useless anyway. If I'm happy about something, no one else cares. If something good happens to another person, I usually can't feel happy for them. So what's the point? Nothing's ever going to work. I can't stop having stupid feelings, and that's way worse than appearing like a functional member of society.
Enough. Just enough.
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| There are more and more days in between entries lately, but again it wasn't intentional. I'll get into my reason further down.
After several straight days of frustration over the house and sleeping situations, things went pretty good on Monday. I think it was Monday, anyway. Might've been Sunday night/Monday morning. Hard to tell with the schedule I was keeping.  Scott didn't have friends over for the Superbowl, so I was free to hang out. Found a pizza in the freezer and got the idea to dress it up with ingredients that I like (not a fan of most non-delivery pizzas out there), which turned out to be a good suggestion, so *pats self on the back*. I chopped up far less meat & veggies than usual because on my last attempt, there was probably too much happening for any of it to cook properly. Then I threw on some cheddar cheese for good measure. Even better is that the stupid thing had absolutely no instructions, but I managed to put it in the oven for a certain time at a certain temperate that cooked it just perfectly. Wow, usually I can't even do that with precise directions. Go me. Anyway, it was very tasty, if a little more dough than toppings (but that's easy to get around - I just scrape them off and nibble at the dough to even the taste out).
With the sleeping, it took over a day, but I finally got back on track. Sunday night, I was up at 8:30 p.m., pushed myself through the night to 3:30 p.m. on Monday, slept until 11:30 p.m., went on the computer for a couple of hours and then back to bed at 4:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning, and managed to stay asleep until the respectable hour of 11:30 a.m., which I wanted to get up by to vacuum the top floor before mom got home from Fredericton. w00t!
Now, the unfortunate thing is that despite all the notes I'd written for Scott (empty the dishwasher, take the garbage out, or do the laundry), he hadn't done a single one of them. I could have tried harder to do these myself, but up to that point, I was the only one doing them at all, and I was really hoping he would help out. It was disappointing to wake up every night and see the dishwasher still full. At least they were clean (because I'd ran it on a previous day), but at some point on Monday night, I checked on it to discover bubbles all over the floor and inside of the dishwasher. It was still warm, so obviously he ran it recently, and there was a single dirty glass of chocolate milk. Yes, he finally decided to read half of my note about the dishwasher, but instead of EMPTYING it like I asked (or, you know, looking inside of it to realize there were actually dishes in there), he just threw his dirty dishes inside, thus dirtying all the dishes I had already cleaned, and running the washer with the wrong detergent in it, hence the bubbles everywhere staining the floor. Just when you think he can't get any worse, he fucks things up by trying to help (in his mind, this is helping).
I was tired and couldn't deal with his crap anymore, so I just left everything as is, which is why, yes, when mom got home there were some crumbs on the counter because I stopped cleaning up after my brother on the last day. Forget the first few times I ran the dishwasher, or did laundry, or all that vacuuming... mom notices the stains on the floor and the dirt on the counter. I can't excuse it, it's just upsetting that I really had been keeping things tidy before Monday and so that's the first impression she gets. So within minutes of arriving home, where she would've been cleaning up after my dad and Tom in Fredericton anyway, she's emptying the garbage and running the dishwasher and putting a new load of laundry in. Ugh. Sure enough, she was in such a bad mood because of that that she storms out for a drive.
Cue me having a tearful shower because hey, even when I cave in and play maid to that piece of shit brother of mine, it's still not good enough because he's just going to make a bigger mess. What poured salt in the wound was mom having told me earlier the things he was saying about me on the phone. Communicating through sticky notes is not my ideal situation, but he won't talk to me anymore, so what else am I supposed to do? I'm not saying he isn't good at conversations, I mean you ask him something and he just grunts, if he acknowledges you at all. It's almost hard to believe, at least for me, because I could never ignore someone like that. But it is second nature to him. Anyway, that's why I don't try talking to him anymore, but I don't know what his excuse is with me, as he does seem to speak up from time to time with mom. This past week, he actually had to gaul to complain to her that I was putting his dirty clothes on top of his clean clothes. Oh, so he noticed that he had clean clothes? It must have been magical creatures who did that, eh? How the fuck did he think his laundry was being done if not for me? And all he does is waddle into the laundry room, knock over the piles I had made until he found his own stuff, then walk out again. But no, apparently I am mixing up his dirty and clean clothes. What a prick.
Then he was going on about what a burden I am on him, because when teachers ask how I'm doing, he has nothing to tell them. Where do I even start with that one? How's about: 1) thanks for reducing my entire life to a story not worth telling 2) yes, I feel so sorry for you not being able to tell your teachers about me 3) I graduated on time. What's that? Oh yes, you're doing grade 12 over again, aren't you? 4) what a fair comparison to all your faults 5) whether I disappear for a day or a month, you don't even notice, so don't dare pretend I wasn't doing anything of note in Toronto or England or the U.S. I just can't believe he would say something like that. I was like a second mother to him growing up and then he went through his emo phase, he cut ties with all of us, so why would he act like I'm the problem? Especially when he still takes things from me without asking (when mom confronts him about it, he thought I was okay with it - yes, that must be why he had the balls to take instead of asking me to my face). There's a difference between me having valid complaints about how lack of help around the house (hi, I'm doing his fucking laundry?) and him being cruel for the sake of selfishness only with really stupid "complaints" that don't mean anything and are pretty much lies. I never thought he would stoop to that level, but it breaks my heart. This is worse than the time Tom used fake blood on his arm to say I had ripped him up in a fight, because Scott is 18 years old and should know better.
Suffice to say, I've had a lot of things to think about. As always, I guess. But I'm glad that when mom came home, she stressed that she wasn't upset with me, just that there was a mess at all, and that she doesn't know how to get through to Scott. I hate only being able to relate to her when we're trashing someone else. That's not a good basis for a relationship, even I know that. But argh, it's the only time we get along real well, feels like.
So here is my question for the day: what are you looking to get out of this weblog? I am mostly directing this towards LJ readers, but anyone can share if they want. For some reason, on a number of instances over the last two or three months, I am getting these comments on my sites or on the messageboards that are for lack of a better term, ragging on me. Sometimes out of the blue, sometimes inspired by a subject I'm writing about. But more and more, it is getting on my nerves or at least making me wonder what the deal is. I can understand any personal criticisms because duh, I've been trashing myself for long before I had a weblog. As for why folks feel the need to speak up now, I don't know. I'm not doing anything differently. That there could be a problem, but I don't see why it concerns them.
What worries me is that every time I write about my mom, you guys are going to think about that thread I started on b77. Every time I write about something frivolous or recreational, you guys are going to think I'm wasting my time and should be doing something important such as looking for work. And every time I write about family troubles, you guys are going to roll your eyes and tell me to get out of here. Without mentioning the obvious, that I bloody know, I am just reminded of how the majority of 2006 was spent off of my blogs and how unhappy that made me. I like to write. Sometimes I need to vent. It sucks when the same issues pop up time after time, but I suspect they will be with me all of my life, and so I'm not going to stop writing just because there's nothing new to report. That is the purpose behind many blog entries, but mostly it's that I want to keep in touch with people through something that I enjoy.
It's hard to know the right answer to even handle a situation like this because I don't want to give the impression that people can't share their opinion with me, nor do I want ya's to lie and sugarcoat things, but it's still awful weird to experience criticisms. This is probably why I never ask for advice outside of a few rhetorical questions. Honestly, I know what's wrong with my life and what I need to fix, but I get bogged down with hopelessness and don't see a real way out of it. Say I run away with a few bucks in my pocket and a change of clothes. I get a job in Australia. I've just solved two problems, yes? But wait, my boss takes advantage of me and has me run stupid errands like ironing his clothes or walking his dog. Same problem, different setting. Excuse me for not seeing the immediate solution here.
I'm torn between agreeing with people on principle, and being angry with them out of self-preservation. Each half is as wrong as it is right, I think, but neither makes me feel much better about anything, which is why I come back to the depression. I'm pretty sure that no matter what I do... ever... it's going to be wrong. If it's for my own good, it's going to hurt someone else, and I can't deal with that. If I sacrifice myself for others, which is often the case, I can live with that but then my life sucks and I'm judged for it. Still pretty sure it's better to go around not caring about anything. Whatever I'm doing now ain't exactly working. But it's at the point now where even if I get a job and accepted into university, I wouldn't tell anybody. What might've been a joy worth sharing at one time is now too much pressure and I just don't want any more attention with regards to it. I think about the friends I haven't been able to give special little gifts to for lack of money, and the friends who've told me they don't want to hang out with me because I have no money, and frankly, if I allow them back into my life after I get a steady income, it'd be like saying it was okay for them to dump me in the first place. I can't do that. Nor am I interested in suddenly becoming friends again with people who've tired of me already. I talk about my problems like anyone else, but there is more to me than that, so it upsets me to learn that I depress certain people just by existing. That's not fair. How I wish most of the people I was referring to read this website, but alas.
So tell me what you want out of this website. I've played around with it through all the years I've been with it, but I'm wondering if a new set of rules are required if I'm pissing people off that much. I promise nothing, but wanted to get some feedback.
While you think about that/ignore it/skim through it, here's my pictures for the day...
More food stuff, sorry. I'll get caught up on other piccies this week, I was just sidetracked with, well, thoughts. But I'm good now (even woke up before 8 a.m. this morning). Anyhoo, I was poking around AllRecipes.com (thanks, Trazzie!) for honey mustard chicken and got a result for a sandwhich version. Seeing as how we had all the ingredients on hand, I decided to go ahead with that instead of making it a big supper kind of deal. I was after the recipe because my high school used to make a divine honey mustard chicken, though I can't remember what was served with it. For once, I got a recipe that tasted exactly like what I was looking for. All the sweet & source sauces I've tried are nothing like what the local Chinese place makes, and it was starting to bother me. So while I keep searching for that one, it was great to throw ingredients together, wondering if they'd turn out, and having a taste to discover yes... they were delicious. *happy dance* These are my dry ingredients:
The honey mustard mixture was in the bowl and now slathered on the chicken in the oven. I'm using up leftover buns from my parents' Superbowl party, but forgot we no longer have the toaster oven and so I had to squish it into the normal toaster... one side at a time. Then I sliced up some tomatoe and lettuce, which amused me since it looked so professional (or at least what you see in restaurants, which is fancy enough for me).
The chicken with honey mustard sauce on it, obviously. Fresh out of the oven, yum yum.
Finished sammich. There's four slices of chicken here but I probably could have stuffed in more if the bread weren't as thick. I think it took about a half hour to prepare. Recipe here for those interested. Mom and I both loved it.
I'm too tired right now, so I'll probably just eat some leftover Kraft Dinner for supper and pass out when the new Lost episode is done. But tomorrow night, I'm doing a broccoli casserole. Peace.
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| Sorry, guys. I just ain't feelin' it these days. Between the hopeless sleeping patterns, sharing the house with Scott, and having nowhere to go, it's been a really frustrating week. The food is disgusting, the computer is slow, the movies are boring, and I'm sick of playing the same songs every damn day. I get breakfast for the dog because I'm asleep during the day, but I don't know if Scott's feeding her supper because she's acting kind of sluggish and needy. I'm taking care of all the laundry and dishwashing, as usual. And apparently tonight, he's having friends over for the Superbowl, so I won't even be able to walk around in my pj's as planned. The other night, I may have downed five sodas - I just had nothing to do nor felt like doing anything (including doing nothing) but I was thirsty and hungry and didn't have anything left to cook, so pops seemed like the easy answer. About the only thing that's worth noting is a few instant messenger conversations with peeps like Rach and Scroozle. Everything else just makes me want to break my head into the wall.
It's odd. I feel quite happy and self-sufficient away from home, whether it's in Fredericton or at a moot, but when either parent is away from home (especially mom), I quickly become depressed, moody, and irritable. Maybe it's the lack of options. Less of me going out to the movies and more of Scott disappearing without a trace nor any regard for the tasks he probably assumes he can do later on, if at all. I can do my own laundry. I love vacuuming. Caring for my own mess makes me feel refreshed, independant, and satisfied. But ask me (or put me in a situation where I must) to clean up after someone else, specifically one who would never do the same for me, and it's an effort to keep my blood pressure down. Same argument, different day. But it drives me up the fucking wall and I was already in bad shape thanks to the upside-down inside-out schedule. I'm sick of failing at all the little things that add up to big things.
Starting to fall behind with the 365 Project. These are two pictures I took on Friday morning when the temperatures took another huge drop. Everything glistened with ice and it was gloriously beautiful.
| You Are
52%
Slacker |  You are a bit of a slacker - though you can pull it
together and live a somewhat normal life.
If you're young,
this is probably phase you'll outgrow. And if you're already grown up,
you need to get off the couch a bit
more! |
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| "What the hell am I gonna do for an encore, though? All meals henceforth shall sucketh in comparison."
Well I hit that one on the nose. Last night, it took forever just to make mashed potatoes and frozen peas. They didn't really go with the reheated schnitzel & smidgeon of pasta, and then later on I made two pieces of French toast which kind of burned and were just okay anyway. Today, my Golden Grahams cereal went soggy in approximately five seconds, so I made a ham, cheese, mayo, tomato, & lettuce wrap. It was gross. Who the hell messes up something like that? Anyhoo, now I'm hungry for something that'll really satisfy me, but it hasn't been quite enough time since the wrap and I don't want to make myself full, so I'm just sitting here with the shakes and trying to conjure something delicious out of thin air. It's now midnight and everyone's asleep, so I don't want to make too much noise in the kitchen. Will probably just cave and make Kraft Dinner.
At least I made a damn good mcmuffin for breakfast yesterday. Take that, McDonald's.
After reading a comment on my LiveJournal, I realized what makes me such a useless cook: Harve was talking about perogies, which I always thought were characters on Star Trek. That's right, apparently
 ==  in my sorry excuse for grey matter. Aye carumba. Trekkies and food connoisseurs alike: please don't kill me. Thanks to wikipedia, I will never again mistake a Ferengi for edibles.
Got the new theatre listings for the weekend. CHILDREN OF MEN is playing in my town.  Hey, it first opened on Christmas, how was I to know it'd ever get here? I'll probably see it again anyway lmao. There is something nagging me about the fact that when mom and I caught it the other week, the stupid quiff at the box office gave us two tickets for ALPHA DOG. That means a crap-ass movie got twice as much money from us as it deserved, while CoM got none. It is the exact opposite result I was looking for in constantly promoting the film to you fine people.  I feel like I owe it to them to see again, even if I will be purchasing the DVD as soon as it's available. My excuse is fair: it's really something to see on the bigscreen. All my major loves are like that, whether they be LOTR, MOULIN ROUGE, PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, or TITANIC. It just feels wrong to see anything else. A little silly, but genuinely true. I always forget about that feeling because while I eventually see other good movies, honest-to-goodness fandom is quite rare.
I found some really old entries that'd been privatized so I could use the information when there was space for it.
Whoops.
It'll bulk up what are already long-enough entries, but I don't want my efforts to be completely for naught so over the next couple of months you'll probably see a sprinkling of memes and useless quizzes pop up.
| You Are From the
Sun |
Of
all your friends, you're the shining star. You're dramatic - loving
attention and the spotlight. You're a totally entertainer and the life
of the party. Watch out! The Sun can be stubborn, demanding, and
flirty. Overall, you're a great leader and great friend. The very
best! |
Not remotely like me in any way unless you want to stretch it a bit, in which case you could include the drama and stubborn parts. Oh well. I took this
from someone's* xanga who scored as Neptune, which is way more along my
lines. I tried it again (hey, things change in two years) and the results are still a bit iffy, but much closer: | You Are From Mercury |  You are talkative, clever, and knowledgeable - and it shows.
You probably never leave home without your cell phone!
You're witty, expressive, and aware of everything going on around you.
You love learning, playing, and taking in all of what life has to offer.
Be careful not to talk your friends' ears off, and temper your need to know everything. |
Just in case you're wondering, these are the results for Neptune...
| You Are From Neptune |  You are dreamy and mystical, with a natural psychic ability.
You love music, poetry, dance, and (most of all) the open sea.
Your soul is filled with possibilities, and your heart overflows with compassion.
You can be in a room full of friendly people and feel all alone.
If you don't get carried away with one idea, your spiritual nature will see you through anything. |
Definitely me, right? I bet Rach and Naomi would get something like that as well.
* Madochi, who is apparently no longer a member here. That's the sad part about looking up old notes because I had a lot of casual viewers who I've long since lost touch with. My track record with regular xangans is bad enough, let alone those who only dropped by because I ran my ass off around the blog community, commenting everywhere and trying to find those I had the slightest in common with. My life is a game of catch-up and I'm losing at it every minute. Le sigh.
Appologies for the no-show. This week has disappeared on me at rapid speed no matter how much I try to accomplish things. 14 hours of sleep every day and being constantly tired makes it hard to get anything done. It's pissing me off. But I march on.
| | |
| Ugh, I really need to get out of the house for some of these pics. But that requires getting the attention of either mom or Scott for a drive, so.....
Right now, I'm just so happy my supper was a complete success. I think my problem was always preparing too much food (to save time on cooking it later in the week) which possibly made it harder to cook if I didn't stir things around enough. Tonight, I had two plates of previously unfinished suppers to work with, so I picked the chicken from one and the peppers from another and decided to add more veggies. I love my mushrooms cooked in butter until they're somewhat burnt, so I put those on for a while and then tossed in one stem of broccoli and one chopped onion. Don't remember how long I cooked it for, but just kept at it until things were soft enough (my teeth suck - I need food to be either small or soft for me to chew and digest it right). No soy sauce or oil, but I did give it a spray of Pam and added water from time to time.
Sweet jeebus, even while taking the picture I wanted to eat it, and looking at it now, I wish I had some left.
 Now that is just gorgeous. A work of art. Aaaaaand I'm hungry again...
But at least I now know how easy it is. Not thrilled about the idea of cutting food and cooking every day as opposed to microwaving on some nights, but whatever, I'm sure I'll find some compromise. I mean, to have that every night, it's worth trying.
What the hell am I gonna do for an encore, though?  All meals henceforth shall sucketh in comparison.
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