What Dreams May Come

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a baby doctor. I wanted to help all the little babies in the world. I had these huge dreams of being a wonderful doctor that saved lives and made people better. In time, that changed to being a Veterinarian. I loved animals, and I figured it would be the perfect job for me. I remember telling a teacher of mine that once. Rather than encouraging me to follow my dreams and shoot for the stars, she launched into a lecture about how much WORK Vet school was. About how few people ever get accepted into school. About how long I would be in school. In short - she completely discouraged me. I felt a little heart-broken. Looking back, I think she was telling me I was smart/dedicated/good enough to be a Veterinarian.

Then there was the year I auditioned for Mrs. Clause for the Christmas play. She got to sing a solo. I've always loved music more then anything, and I jumped at the chance to audition. I remember sitting with my dad, and we practiced that damn song over and over and over again. When it came time for the actual audition, I choked. We didn't have a piano at home and so while I could sing the song perfectly, I had no idea what the piano part was supposed to be. When I fumbled, the other girls auditioning laughed at me.

I didn't bother putting myself in a position where anyone could really hear me sing for another 7 years. In 8th grade, some of the girls in my class decided to sing Tears in Heaven for the spring concert. Somehow, I convinced them to let me shoo-wop in the background along with them. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Being on the stage, even being in the background, was amazing.

The following year, I asked our new music teacher if I could sing a solo for the Christmas concert. He was willing enough (we always had a shortage of people who wanted to perform) and I scurried about picking out my music. My mom asked me, several times, if I was sure I wanted to do it. Later, she told me that she was worried I would fail dramatically.

The concert came, and even without a mic I nailed that rendition of Rockin' around the Christmas tree. People were stunned, and multiple people came up to me after the concert, 'I had NO IDEA you could sing!' From that point forward, I performed whenever I could. Concerts, church...I always wanted to sing the National Anthem, but I was always intimidated by that song (oh, and I just KNEW that I would sing it when certain crushes of mine were in the crowd and I'd fail fantastically.)

I had this idea in my mind that I could be a singer. I could be famous, I could actually DO it for a living. I was encouraged by people telling me how amazing they thought I was. I embarked on creating an internet name for myself. I recorded songs, I had a website, I had a fan club, I had several interviews in various online magazines...it wasn't much, but it made me feel special. It made me feel like I was actually good at something. I won contests. I was...not great, but I was GOOD. I had talent.

My freshman year of college, there was a concert in Spokane. My parents ended up driving me there to it. The night before we took off to the concert (I was already in my dorm room, they were in a hotel) I spent the entire night making a demo cd. I had a free 8-track recorder I'd downloaded and a cheap ass microphone, a guitar, and a lot of excitement. I still have that cd, somewhere. It wasn't good...hell, a lot of it sucked...but I put a lot of heart and soul into it.

At the concert, I was able to make my way to the front of the stage, and the groups manager was out visiting with people. I handed him my demo cd, and I was THRILLED. I'm sure he never listened to it (I later discovered that they're not able to, or allowed to as a general rule) but I was over the moon. I was excited about it all, I was going to make a go of it. Hell, at one point, I was seriously considering Coyote Ugly'ing it and moving to New York City to make my life as a musician.

I auditioned for the campus choir. I knew without a doubt that they would welcome me with open arms, that I would find a home in the music department. They didn't. Sight reading has never been my strong point, without an accompaniment...and I pretty much bombed the audition.

I was discouraged and frustrated. Not long after, I started dating my ex. And while he never discouraged me...he also...made it clear, at points, that he didn't think I had a snowballs chance in hell.

So I gave up. I just quit. I stopped recording, I stopped singing, I stopped playing guitar. And like any tool that goes unused, my voice went away. I'm not a bad singer these days, but I'm no where near as good as I was.

Since then, I have not been able to recapture that excitement. There is nothing that I throw myself into the way I threw myself into that. Oh, there are things that I've been good at and things that I've enjoyed...but there has been a distinct lack of follow through. Look at my writing for example. I enjoy it, very much. Hell, people tell me I'm good at it. I'm still too damn afraid to do much more then think about how awesome it would be if I someday were good enough to say, publish a novel.

I have this fear that someone is going to read my novel - what I've got so far, anyway - and laugh at me. Tell me it's terrible, and tell me I shouldn't even bother. I think part of me wants to keep it to myself...that way I can at least pretend it doesn't totally suck.

At MisCon, there is a writers workshop. It would be enough for me to send about the first 2 chapters of my novel, along with a $15.00 fee. They'll all be published in an anthology. And there is a crew of professional authors who are going to be at MisCon who will be work shopping and critiquing with us. One of them will pick a manuscript to line edit. All in all, it should be a fabulous experience.

And...I am terrified. I am terrified of going in there and talking to the author who gets my piece and being given a look. I'm terrified that this one last thing that I am ok at might be taken away from me. I want so badly to do this, but I am scared. So many hopes and dreams have been dashed before this that I just want to cling to this last one, and hope that it will be my THING.

Everyone has something they are really good at. All their others friends look to them for advice on that one thing. I...don't have a 'thing.' I don't have anything. And part of me feels...empty? Less? Because I don't have anything.

So yeah. That's my dilemma, and something I've been thinking about a lot. Do I tell him yes, I want in on the writers workshop, and risk being totally discouraged...or do I just stay the course? From the outside this is an easy choice. From inside my head, not so much.

Surrealism and Line

This weeks poem was to be based off Surrealism. And using lines to create suspense. So, here is what we got!

'In a Moment

I met a man the other day, while walking home from work.

He was covered in (dirt, debris, filth of the streets) stars and

begged for a moment of my time. 'Can't talk (Mr. Beggar Man)

Sir, I am late (so late) for a (very important) date.'

There was sorrow in his eyes as he begged like a puppy

searching for a (cat, rope, throat) Milk Bone

'Please, (beautiful lady) Ma'am, just a moment (so busy, so busy, always rushing

towards death) of your time.'

His eyes were the most startling color, a shock of beauty

stuck in a miasma of pain

I should call them (amber, bronze, mahogany) cocoa

flecks of gold (his only wealth) floating along the iris.

I think I could not resist those eyes of his, so

(beautiful, stunning, terrifying, moving)

deep and inspiring. I felt myself falling (down, down the rabbit hole

little alice fell)

I stood so still and he so close, even the reek of his breath

(death, oh death, nothing but the rotting death)

couldn't break the spell. 'Oh beautiful lady

(madam, princess, queen of all I survey)

just a moment of your time?'

He touched me then and my world (collapsed, expanded, reacted) exploded

a kaleidoscope of colors, an avalanche of sensation

(pain, terror, anger, frustration, hate, misery)

as I fell into his eyes (such lovely eyes, such perfect peepers)

I met a man the other day (oh god, please no, please stop)

while walking home from work

He was a filthy beggar man (not that, never that, please...)

covered all in dirt

He begged (push, shove, hit, bite) me for a moment

of my oh so precious time

He gave me gifts (red, glisten, shine) and showed me things

and took my soul in kind.

I wonder where I am now (I never believed in heaven)

as I float along in space

and if they ever found me (pieces, shattered, scattered)

In that lonely, filthy place.

New York, New York

This was one of our first assignments for my Creative Writing class last semester. We were given a short story to read, and we were asked to imitate the story in writing our own. This is my Wharton Imitation piece.

“Amy? Amy Rhoades?” The voice held a tone of shock and amusement, the words carrying over the crowds.

She was a beautiful woman in her early 30's. Her strikingly good looks had mellowed some and her perfect figure had softened somewhat after three children, but she was still able to turn heads, especially when she took some care with her looks. She looked up at the name she hadn't gone by in a decade, her brilliant eyes widening in shock at the familiar face.

“James Anson...I...never thought to see you again...” She tried to keep her voice light and airy, tried to hide the jolt of shock and the momentary ripple of fear she felt.

Her husband Anthony slipped an easy arm around her waist. They had been married for 10 years, and the early jealousy he had often felt when another man greeted his lovely wife had faded like the summer heat. Now, he only felt a touch of amusement at the lengths some would go to try to entice her away. For all of her faults, Amy was unwaveringly loyal to him, as she had proven time and time again. She looked up and granted her husband a brief yet stunning smile, before looking back to her old friend.

He practically drug a young woman behind him, a plain waifish thing Amy could only surmise was his wife. She was not unattractive, but her plain face, bored expression and dowdy dress made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the glamor and glitz that surrounded them. 'We're in New York City,' Amy thought, 'I don't know how anyone can be bored in this place...' She quickly turned her attention towards the couple, pasting on her best dazzling smile.

“Good lord, Amy...you look exactly the same as you did in College!” She saw his eyes traverse her body, and she felt slightly uncomfortable being encased in the clingy dress she had bought specifically for their outing to the theater. She leaned closer to her husband, using his presence to fend off her own feelings of anxiety at being eyed by him in such a manner.

She pushed aside her fears, and the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. 'Be polite, Amelia. You can hate him, but for gods-sake, be polite! His father is still your parents' Pastor. The last thing you need is a frantic mother, wondering why you are so uncouth.' She shook her head and gave a soft, tingling laugh, her eyes looking up and away from him, admiring the sparkling lights of Broadway, “I suppose the years have been kind to me.”

He leered and his wife gave a little sad sigh, pointedly looking away from Amy and finding some item of great interest in the gutter. She could feel his eyes undressing her, slowly stripping her out of the slinky dress and down to the unmentionables that even Anthony hadn't seen yet. “Yeah, they definitely have been. What have you been doing? I haven't seen you since school. I've asked your parents, but they say you don't come home very often.”

“No, I don't get home much these days. I left town after we graduated, and I did some traveling. That's where I met Anthony...” she smiled and looked up at her husband, feeling her heart constrict in her chest, “This is my husband, Anthony. Anthony, this is James. An old... acquaintance from college.”

James' face wrinkled in a frown and he looked at Amy, “Acquaintance? We were more then that, Amy!” he glanced up at Anthony and smirked, “What she doesn't tell you is that we dated for a year and a half.” James winked, trying to share some manly bonding moment with her husband. His wife looked up sharply, looking at Amy and narrowing her eyes just slightly.

Amy looked away, and her face colored. The perfect evening, her ten year anniversary gift from her husband had quickly turned into a nightmare. She could feel her mind turning, trying desperately to find the words that would make it all end. Her husband, her very own hero in a fine-cut Armani suit, swooped in, his voice holding just the slightest edge that she knew meant business. “No, but Amelia and I never discussed our past relationships overly much. We never had the need to compare our lives together to those who came before.”

James let out a raucous laugh, and she could tell that he had been drinking. Heavily. She shot a furtive glance towards his wife, who only continued to look at her like she was the Whore of Babylon reborn. The wife finally spoke up, her voice little and tinny, “James – we have to get back to the hotel. Mother will want to get some sleep, and the boys have terrorized her long enough.”

James finally tore his eyes away from Amy long enough to give his wife a disdainful look before giving his crows laugh again, “That's my boys for you, always out terrorizing the ladies.” He gave Amy one last lustful wink and then turned with his wife, weaving down the street.

Amy watched after them for a long moment, her eyes filling with tears. Anthony turned her and looked down at her, his nut-brown eyes filled with concern, “Amy, what was all of that?” Reaching forward, he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, “Who was that?”

She sighed uncomfortably and looked away, her eyes drifting towards the New York City skyline. She had always longed to come here, to see the lights and to lose herself in the throngs of beautiful people. He rested a hand on her lower back comfortingly, rubbing small circles there. She took a moment to ruminate on how lucky she had been in life – she had landed herself an amazing job, an amazing husband, and three amazing children. The few low points were far outweighed by the bright ones.

Turning back to him, she looked up into his eyes, his face ablaze with the bright lights of Broadway, “That man...we dated, for some time.” She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes, gathering her own inner strength. The downside of having a life blessed like hers, is no one thinks you should have your darkness. No one realizes that every bright star has it's heartbreak. Her mind drifted towards her children, her oldest daughter in particular. The star of her life, that brought with her more darkness and pain then most could imagine.

He nodded and frowned slightly, and she knew him well enough to practically read his thoughts. He was trying to puzzle out why she would let herself be weighed down by a man like that. He looked at her with a piercing gaze, “And?”

“He raped me, in a drunken stupor, shortly before we graduated. He always drank too much, I could never get him to stop...I broke up with him the next day but...I had a reputation, and I thought no one would believe me...” As her words trailed off, she felt her husbands rage ignite as he turned, moving to take a step after the man.

She sighed heavily, leaning out to rest a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, his brows knit together in fury. Her voice was soft, but she knew that her words would reach him on the wind, just as she knew how they would cut to his heart. “Anthony...he's Marissa's father.”

Tipping the Velvet

Oh! I remember what I was going to talk about!

One of the books we've been assigned in my Intro to Lit class is Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters. It is an absolutely beautifully written novel based in Victorian England. Here, this tells you a bit about it... WooHoo Wiki!

Anyway. One of the things about this novel is that it does have sex scenes. As far as literary sex scenes go, these are very tame. There is no 'throbbing man meat' to be found anywhere. Well...of course not...it's about a young lesbian...anyway. You get the idea. I've read some very racy books - the Kushiel series is one of my favorites, and I have a healthy love for the Sookie Stackhouse books as well as the Merry Gentry series. Don't judge me, sometimes I just like smut! So yes. The scenes in Tipping the Velvet...not bad at all. They aren't nasty, they aren't overly explicit...they are tame, and pretty sweet (well, for the most part.)

Several of the students in the class have expressed their utter disgust in the book. One student went so far as to say, 'I am so disgusted in the sex scenes in this book that I'm not going to finish reading it.' Unfortunately, many of those who have said they were disgusted or repulsed by these scenes have also made it very clear that their disgust really comes from them being lesbian sex scenes.

Oh Noes! We can't take a literary piece and enjoy it, despite portions that make us feel uncomfortable! We can't stretch our imaginations and our comfort zones to find the amazing themes and the beautifully crafted story!

Earlier today, there was a post by a classmate who made the comment that, 'I find it hard to believe that the strongest connection in a lesbian relationship would be the sex...' He essentially said he hated that Waters made all lesbian relationships seem like they are all about sex.

Hey! I read a book once about a husband who abused his wife. That means that all heterosexual relationships are abusive, right? Uh no. Wrong!

So, I called him on it. One of my comments made mention of the fact that it didn't matter that the characters were lesbians - that this story could have very well been about a heterosexual couple who experienced the same issues. Another classmate asked why she wouldn't have just written about a heterosexual couple instead...

All in all - I've been very amused by my classmates responses to this novel. Some of them loved it, some of them were ambivalent, and a few of them absolutely hated it. I keep trying to ask them why, to poke at their brains and make them actually step back and examine what makes them hate the book. I've gotten a few responses, which have been very interesting. Though now that I think about it, I wonder if I shouldn't leave those thought provoking questions to the professor to ask...

At the end of the day, I highly recommend this novel. It is amazingly well written. The characters are robust and believable, and it made me tear up at the end. All in all - it gets 7 out of 10 stars on April's Scale of Novels.

A snippet of the crazy

Today, for the most part, was a pretty fantastic day.

On Tuesday, we start our Cam/Anarch game. This would be awesome, except for the fact that I was convinced to storytell for the game. EEEP! I have never run a game in the Camarilla. I've never even been an aVST (well, except for Colin's Forsaken game, but that was mostly cause it was in my living room.) Needless to say - I'm a bit terrified by all of it. I don't know the rules as well as I should, and I am worried my stories will all be boring. Good thing I know my players, and I know they'll make their own plot.

Anyway, I got a lot of work done on the game today. News articles, some information about Missoula in the World of Darkness, some plot ideas, and IC justification for game on Tuesday. I don't really feel much better about it...I'm still nervous as hell. Oh well, I'm sure it will be ok, right?

Tomorrow, Colin has an interview at St. Pat's for a position that would be PERFECT for him. Chaplain. Wait, a job where he gets to use his master's degree? NO WAY! YES WAY! It's a phone interview, the first step, and hopefully it will go well. Keep your fingers and toes crossed.

I start training tomorrow afternoon as well. I head down for a few hours of NextGen training. NextGen is the program we'll be using for all of the data entry and chart imaging. While I've never used it, I've seen it in use...it's not hard. Then again, after working in two different hospitals that had VASTLY different systems...they are all similar enough that I can figure it out. I've got two hands, a good brain, and an innate understanding of how medical records stuff WORKS. If I were more passionate about it, I could totally make this my life's work. Alas, I am not...English however, that I am passionate about.

Game tonight was awesome. Pathfinder is always fun. It's like DnD, but better. I totally approve of better.

So that is pretty much what is going on with me. How about you?

Memory and Image Poem

I am having a lot of difficulties in my Creative Writing: Poetry class. I think that I'm going to be talking to the dean, because this is just ridiculous. I'm not going to go into it right now...but needless to say, I am a frustrated panda.

The poem we had to write this week had to include memory and images. One of the problems I'm having with the teacher is lack of feedback of ANY kind. It's difficult to write and write and write - and not know if any of it is good.

Anyway. Here is my offering for the week.

'Coming Home'

I left Montana at 20, looking for a new great adventure.

Drove off into the mountains with my boyfriend

and my life, all loaded up into a U-Haul.

I left, hoping I could run away from our past,

thinking maybe that if we left Montana, he would love me.

He never did.

Colorado was beautiful, even when my heart ached.

The mountains were stunning and soothed my soul,

but it wasn’t home and they couldn’t fix it all.

I left him at 22, hoping that a break would finally make me happy.

It didn’t.

I found some happiness in Colorado,

but my heart never fully healed.

I limped home at 24,

with a broken heart and an empty bank account.

Montana welcomed me with open arms,

bringing me back to the farm where I had spent my childhood.

I was so afraid my family would be angry,

turn me away for the things I had done and the life I’d lived.

They didn’t.

The moment I turned down that hard-pack dirt road,

I felt my eyes start to well up,

and I had to will myself not to cry.

My parents embraced me, my dad eyed my piercing,

“What the hell did you do to your face?”

It was all good-natured, as I teased him right back about

the hippy hair he’d let grow down his back.

My baby brother was thrilled that he would have me home,

someone else he could beat at board games.

He had been so young when I’d first left,

he’d gone from an obnoxious kid to an all right teenager.

It hurt that I had missed so much of his life.

I thought he wouldn’t remember his big sister,

who had been like a second mother to him for so many years.

He did.

I was gone for 4 years, only visiting home twice

and in four years, nothing changed.

The house was still a home, filled with knick-knacks

and do-dads and various junk acquired over the years.

I wandered a lot the first days of my arrival,

reacquainting myself with the hidey holes of my childhood.

It was early October, the fields were in for the year,

the equipment all put away for the season.

They never asked for the details.

Why I left, what I did, where the pain came from,

and I was happy to leave them in the dark.

All Montana cared about was that I was home,

that I was safe, and that I was happy.

And I was.

As an aside...

I imported my other blog here. So not only will there be actually bloggyness...but there will also be various creative writing endeavors. So, HAH! Take that! Like it or not!

Muwahahahahahahahaha!

Who says you can't go back?

I've spent a lot of time over the past few weeks really thinking back about the past.

When Colin and I decided we were moving back to Missoula, I was thrilled. I called everyone and sent them messages on Facebook, and I started getting ready to go home. I didn't grow up here, but it has always been 'home' for me. Eventually, that initial euphoria started to fade and was replaced by fear.

It had been almost 8 years since I had left...and I'd only been back to visit a few times. And then, of course, I started to worry about the social structure.

You see, in the long long ago, in the before times...Adrienne and I met 'The Guys.' We met them LARP'ing. We went from LARP'ing with them to table top gaming with them to just generally hanging out. And then she started dating her husband and I started dating my ex. For the most part - it was really awesome.

And then the ex went to a convention, and cheated. Even though I was upset and unhappy, I stuck with the relationship. See, I was afraid that if I left, I would never find someone else who wanted me. I had this ridiculous romanticized ideal of love that said that since he was my first, we would eventually get married. And have children. And live the picture-perfect cookie-cutter life. So I stayed. Even being a little unhappy was better than being totally alone, right?

After a trip to Colorado, I had a brilliant idea. We'd move to Colorado! It would make everything all better. We'd have a new start and a new life and I would finally be able to forget the past. And it had the added benefit of getting me out of Montana and satisfying my silly roamer blood.

No one tried overly hard to talk us out of it. I think they all knew that I was set on it. I told him then, 'I'm going, even if you don't come with me.' He did, and I figured it would all be ok. I thought it would fix the issues I had with trusting him and that it would fix the issues he had with commitment.

Yeah...I was very, very wrong.

Needless to say, things in Colorado didn't go quite the way I had expected them to. We made some friends (some of them are still very dear to my heart, and will be my friends forever.) Things were great, at first. I don't really know when they started going south, but they did. We both lost all contact with our friends in Montana...to the point where we'd talk to them MAYBE once a year. Maybe. Hell, I totally lost contact with my parents. I would go for months without talking to my mom. Sure, I had freedom...but I was horribly lonely.

The break up was inevitable. I'll go into that later...but it was a long time coming. I realize now that we were both using each other. I didn't have a car and I was terrified of being alone. So I stayed until I just couldn't stay anymore. I'm not proud of it...but I stayed until I found someone else who showed me and told me that they were willing to be in a relationship with me...and that they were willing to love me.

I visited Missoula once after the break up. It wasn't bad, but I kept waiting for things to be awkward. I talked about the break up in passing, but I tried not to dwell on it. At that point, even a year later, everything was still pretty difficult for me to talk about without crying.

Fast Forward to current day. We were preparing for the move, and I started freaking out. What if everyone was as different as I am, and we didn't get along anymore? What if they were all disgusted by the choices I've made in my life and didn't want to associate with me? What if they all blamed me for taking their good buddy away, and wouldn't give my husband a chance? What if the person they expected to return was the person I was 10 years ago - not the person I am today? In short - I was terrified. Colin did a very good job reassuring me...he just kept reminding me that everyone in Missoula had been nothing but excited when we said we were coming back. And that even if everyone else didn't want to associate with me, our roommates still would.

It was still kind of a scary thing. Returning to a place after being gone for so many years. But the first night we were in town, we went to the New Years party...and it really was like coming home. There were a few new faces and a lot of old ones...and everyone was friendly and welcoming. We're still adjusting, but I think it's going really well.

Long story short...it's been amazing coming home. It isn't the same as it was when I was 19, but I didn't really expect it to be. I am a very different person, but we all are. On one hand, it makes me sad that I left and missed so many memories with my friends - my chosen family. On the other hand, at least now I have a massive repertoire of stories that no one here has heard yet.

And while Colin isn't my ex...and won't ever take his place...I think he's been accepted as well. At least no one has kicked him yet. :)

10-Minute Spill

Our assignment this week - well, the first one, I don't know if there will be more - was a little...strange. I'm not sure that I cared for it, at all. So here is what our assignment was -

THE TEN-MINUTE SPILL (original lesson by Rita Dove, former US Poet Laureate)

In this exercise, you will be asked to take an adage or proverb ("a penny saved is a penny earned," "a stitch in time saves nine," etc.) that you have changed in some way ("a penny saved is a rat's fortune," "a stitch in time saves Biggie from the bullet," etc.), and combine it with five of the following words in a ten-line poem: blackberry; cloud; mother; nick; whir; needle; cliff; spell; run; thought; will.

The hitch: You have ten-minutes. Go.

Of note: trust the music of the language; trust improvisation; don't worry if it makes sense at first; look at how many of the words can be either nouns or verbs; have fun!

Please email your results to me by close of day Tuesday.

Yeah, it was a little odd. Oh well. Here was my response, using the proverb, 'Familiarity breeds Contempt'

"Family breeds contempt." Nine years old and in a school for the first time. Children are unforgiving, and I hear the titters before I finish the phrase.

The hated 'tsk' from our teacher cuts through the air, casting an eerie spell over the room. A thousand eyes bore into me like needles.

Her voice is dry, like the sour blackberries from the bush in our yard.

"Mae." she ignores the laughter from my classmates, and I will myself to look at her. "The word is familiarity, not family."

I nod and I feel my eyes cloud with tears as she continues, speaking slowly as though I am a child, "Do you understand me, Mae? FA-MIL-IAR-I-TY?"

I nod again and she sighs heavily, "Do we have to call your mother again, Mae?"

I shake my head and close my eyes. "Familiarity." I hear the laughter again, and the whispers, the harsh words of my classmates.

She nods once, satisfied with my answer, "You may sit, Mae. Nick, continue..."

I sit and sigh, looking out the window. I can hear their whispers all around me as they stare, wondering at my intelligence.

They all think I am stupid. I can't tell them I know the words in the book, and that my mistake was intentional. I can't tell them it was my only way I knew to cry for help.

(Note - I realized that I'm an idiot and screwed up some tenses in there. Fixed.)

How to piss off a Mad Woman

Saying I am frustrated is a massive understatement.

One of my biggest pet peeves is being lied to. If you tell me you are going to do something, then you had damn well better do it. And if you tell me you are going to do something? I expect it to be done in a timely manner. If you have no intention of doing something promptly, then tell me. If you tell me you'll do something just to appease me, you are just going to piss me off. I value honesty. If for some reason you really want to piss me off...just promise to do something and then never do it. I might threaten to run you over with a bus if you do it enough.

My poetry teacher is starting to piss me off. When he first posted our syllabus, I sent him an e-mail asking for something a little bit more...thorough. The syllabus he sent us is effectively, 'We're going to do this, and then maybe some of this, and then possibly some of this. You'll stay really busy! Oh, and you have to write a paper and do this and this.' And that was it. No dates when things would be due, no expectations for our papers, no guidelines on when we would be doing what.

I e-mailed him and asked for some clarification. For anyone who knows me, I don't really work well like that. I want firm deadlines. I don't need to be micro-managed, but I want to know what you WANT from me. I'm not a damn mind reader. He promised up and down he'd get something better to us.

That was 3 weeks ago. We still don't have anything.

One of our assignments several weeks ago was to write a poem on the purpose of poetry. I kinda liked mine. He said he'd be posting some of those on the discussion board for us to read and discuss. He still hasn't done that either. I mentioned it in an e-mail to him, but we'll see.

The assignments he gives us are oftentimes confusing. I feel like he is pulling shit out of his ass and just slapping it on the board. We've written one poem to this point. He is completely unorganized.

Oh and best yet? When we e-mail him we have to e-mail his personal hotmail account, because he has difficulties with his school e-mail.

I am massively frustrated. I don't really want to e-mail the Dean, because I'm concerned about shit rolling downhill. I know that means I have to just suck it up and deal with it. I know this is a Poetry class...but it is still a class. It's only a 200 level class...but it is still a college course. How in the world can this guy be a professor? It just feels so damn unprofessional. Or maybe I just need to pull the stick out of my ass, I don't know...

Gah. Just got to suck it up and deal and try to enjoy it, I guess.

I Live! Really!

What have I been up to? Well, I've been staying pretty damn busy.

First, and most exciting - I got a job! It's a pretty awesome job too, and one that I know I'm going to enjoy. I will be working at a local hospital here, in the clinics, transitioning them from paper charting to online charting. My job is going to consist of - go to work, take pile of charts, data enter the shit out of them, scan important stuff, and move on. At least, I think that is how it will go. I'm the first person of 3 they hired to do this in 11 clinics...they haven't worked with the EHR system yet, so no one really knows yet what/how this is going to happen. I'm going to be making $11.38 an hour, plus I'll get benefits! Not bad. Not bad at all. The job is technically only a temporary position, for 6 months, but I'll be doing it until the work is done.

So yeah. Very excited about the job. I had only wanted to work part-time, due to school and the rest of life. But thats ok. The money will be good, and we'll make it work. Colin also has a line on a really good job at St. Pats as a Chaplain. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he can land that...if he does, life will be good! I don't even know what we'll do with ourselves with both of us having jobs. Oh wait. I do. We'll pay off all our bills. :) WOOOHOO FINANCIAL FREEDOM!

Second, and almost as exciting. Earlier this week, I spent a few days in lovely Kalispell with my roommate. You see, she makes art for a living. And her art goes to 11! I went with her while she was working her super sekrit project... http://www.optimysticalstudios.com/product-lines/zombalert/. Ok, maybe not so sekrit. Anyway, the highschool there has some equipment she needed to use, so I came along as an extra set of hands, eyes, and brains. Let me tell you - they came out AWESOME. When they start selling these things commercially, I think they are going to fly off the shelves. They are just a lot of fun. Once the ordering system is up and running, I'll share it. They are going to be fuuuuun!

As a note, if I get bit in the Zombie Apocalypse...Double Tap is my death of choice. Quick and Clean, please!

Third, and not exciting at all. My laptop bit the dust. Like, hardcore death. A friend was fabulous and tried to help me bring it back to life, without any luck. He was unable to find out what was wrong with it. It had a virus, and I thought I got rid of it, and then it wouldn't boot up. We did a quick format of the hard drive using his external hard drive cool thingey bobber...but whenever we tried to load XP on it, it would say there wasn't a HD installed. But the BIOS was recognizing there was a HD there. Basically, something isn't working there, and we can't figure out how to fix it. :( One of my roommates has an old hd I'm going to pop in there, and we'll see if that works. If it does, eventually I'll get a new hd and turn it into a desk top machine for playing WoW. If not, well...then I guess I'll have something to bring to smashing day this year! The other roommate has an old laptop she is letting me borrow for a few weeks. Which is awesome...checking e-mail and such on my phone was getting frustrating! Now I can do homework and IRC until our taxes get back in a few weeks. And then - netbook, baby!

So yeah. I guess that is it for now. I know you all missed me desperately!

There are days, where I feel like I'm juggling a house of cards

Pulled in a million different directions

so much to do

not enough time to do any of it

Everyone wants a little piece of my soul

but I just don't have that much to give

What happens to me when I give it all away?

And have nothing left for myself.

The Purpose of Poetry

Our poetry assignment this week was to read a poem, and then write our own. Regarding what we feel the purpose of poetry is.

The purpose of poetry is to open our eyes

to the greater world surrounding us.

To remind us to stop and smell the roses,

to show us something we otherwise may have missed.

The purpose of poetry is to further our experiences,

to expand our horizons.

To remind us that some rules in our lives

really are meant to be broken.

The purpose of poetry is to force us to think,

to look past the surface and into the heart of the matter.

Words that seem so confusing at first

hold a universe of meaning beneath them.

The purpose of poetry is to paint us a picture

or sing us a song.

Without ever pulling forth the palette,

or uttering a single note.

The purpose of poetry is to tell a story

one that will pull at your heart and soul.

The story, often, is not in what you read,

but in all that is left unsaid.

The purpose of poetry is more than anyone can put into words,

it is joy and love, sorrow and anger, every emotion and none all at once.

The purpose of poetry is to capture life.

Wherever it may dwell.

Haiku

Our first assignment was to read through Robert Hass' essay Images and then answer some questions. One of them asked us to form images in our minds and then offer up a poem, if we were so inclined.

Everything so still
Lost in the white and quiet peace
Up where the giants walk

Poetry Class

Guess what I'm gonna do? Inflict my poetry on you all! muwahahaha!

For that matter, I think I'm going to post some of my creative writing pieces from last semester here as well. So there.

Eventually, I'll put more of the novel up. You'll just have to wait (I know you've all been waiting anxiously, but...tough.)

Wait, what?

Dear Professor,

I don't mind being assigned readings. I don't even mind if you have them as a .pdf that we have to read. I'm ok with that. No really, I am.

However.

If you are going to assign us a reading that is not in a book we've purchased, at least make sure the file we have is clear and legible. I am not going to sit and read 20 pages of a .pdf that is hard to read because someone scanned it (poorly) in from a book.

This is ridiculous! Oh, and I can't even download the file and read it because it is totally jacked up. When I download it, it downloads in a format that my computer DOES NOT read. So I have to view it on the web.

Head, meet desk. Get well acquainted girls. It's gonna be a long semester.

Curses!

Damnit!

I want to download the Castle books (Heat Wave and Naked Head) onto my Nook. But I know I don't really have the time to read anything that isn't on my reading list this semester.

Curse you, school! Curse you!

Other people's children aren't so bad.

Remember the teacher that I didn't care for, and was pretty sure I wouldn't get along with? After the comment yesterday regarding religion and church planting and such, his response was this...

'I assigned the books that I did with the intent to wrench us outside our comfort zones. The point is, like John F. Kennedy said, we all breathe the same air -- we share this world, and we're required to learn to live alongside, and to love, others with whom we might not see eye-to-eye. Literature assists us in this like little else in our experiences. I'm not interested in censoring anyone; on the contrary, I want us all to listen to one another, to be open with one another, etc. For those of you who have been discussing your faith traditions, church planting, etc -- feel free to do so. The introductions board is for that very thing: introductions. And the subject of religion is invariably going to crop up with respect to our discussions of Blood Meridian and Blankets. One cannot speak intelligently about either book without speaking about the Bible. If a student leaves the class because he or she feels awkward or irritated by certain discussions, that's a shame, because we benefit from multiple world views. But it's also the way it goes sometimes.'

I'm really glad he stepped in and said anything. I was starting to feel like I had to speak up and defend myself. It's nice to know the Professor didn't side with this student (because honestly, I was a little worried about getting in trouble for it.) Also, I couldn't agree with him more. I feel bad for the student that is dropping the class...he's going to miss out on a good class, all because he refuses to keep an open mind.

As an aside, another student mentioned how uncomfortable she felt with one of the books. I'm assuming it is Tipping the Velvet. I'm really enjoying it thus far, and I'll be posting a review on it when I'm all done.

Oh, and I'm having a hell of a time settling in and doing my homework. Tomorrow, I'm going to sit at the table (or my new desk, if we get it put together) and actually get some of this hammered out. After I've done that, I'm going to sit and read for at least an hour or two. I'm already ahead of the reading, but I'd like to stay that way!

Pfft. Some people.

In my Introduction to Literature class, one of the things we've done this week is introductions. One of my other classmates mentioned that the Bible is her favorite book, and that her husband is in Missoula to church plant. Well, I of course wrote back to her, talking about my husband. We had a brief exchange and it was nice. Not a huge deal, nothing overwhelming, we weren't being preachy or anything.

Today, one of my other classmates said -

"A little put off by all the Bible and Denomination babble. That's all I'm going to say. Makes me feel a little uncomfortable... so have fun all. Don't worry, I will be dropping tomorrow."

I understand that sometimes religious talk makes people uncomfortable. However, it was a very brief exchange, and there was nothing pushy or rude or preachy in it. Do you really expect to take a literature class without some mentions of the Bible? I mean...seriously now.

And of course, now I feel bad about it. Like I ran this guy off. I realize he was probably just looking for a reason to drop the class...but yeah. I feel like one of THOSE people now.

And in Contrast...

The same duo from my last post, playing something a little more...classical.

Cellos, less duely

Holy Crap!

I've watched this video three times already this morning, and I just can't stop watching it. Even if you aren't a MJ fan (and really, if you aren't, what's wrong with you?) this is just...

Well, here. You watch it!

Dueling Cellists

Didja watch it? Well, didja?

Told you it was made of the awesome.

Oh yeah. It doesn't hurt that those boys are tasty. I love a musical man...

I can tell it's going to be a long semester

I was very much looking forward to classes this semester. I'm not so sure if I still feel that way.

At least one of my professors, so far, looks like he is going to be a total douche.

He started a thread on our online class forum, asking us to introduce ourselves. I started a new thread, with my name, introducing myself. He sent me an e-mail (which, to be fair, was mostly polite) explaining to me in detail how to properly post on Blackboard. Apparently, it was inappropriate for me to start a new thread. Rather, he expected me to respond to his original thread.

This is all fine and good. But it's messy and seems pointless. Ah well, what can you do, I guess?

Here's to hoping first impressions are wrong.

As for my Creative Writing: Poetry class...well...it is the professors first time using Blackboard and it shows. Nothing is really set up properly in the class yet. And his syllabus is horrible...it's fine and wonderful to give us a list of things we'll be doing during the semester, but he hasn't given us any dates. We have to write a technical study of a contemporary poet, for example. He doesn't say when it is due by, or give us any other guidelines...

I am sure all will be revealed in time. But damnit, I like knowing ahead of time what I am going to be doing. I really have to plan out my semester, to make sure I can get it all done. His syllabus? Not helping, not even a little!

Free time? HAH!

I got my syllabi for this semester. It's going to be rough, I think.

Why did I sign up to be an English Major? Shit.

School and stuff

Well, I get to start classes back up again tomorrow. I'm really anxious and excited. Of course, I have to call tech support first thing in the morning, because my classes STILL aren't showing up in BlackBoard. Ooops. Hard to take an online course if you can't access the course material.

Ah well. I'm sure it'll all get sorted in due time, right?

This semester, I'm taking Introduction to Literature and Creative Writing: Poetry. I'm glad I'm only taking two classes, otherwise I would be totally swamped. My book list for the class is pretty large...

The Secret Garden (which I have already re-read - woohoo Nook)

Blood Meridian

Great Expectations

Tipping the Velvet

Blankets (which is an interesting looking Graphic Novel)

Never Let Me Go (which I am reading right now...actually a really fascinating book)

Treasure Island

A Girl Named Zippy

I'm kind of anxious about the poetry class. I've never been very good at writing poetry...I really wish I could take Creative Writing again...over and over and over...

But yeah. I'm looking forward to classes starting back up. And finding a job. And getting the rest of our stuff here...

There are days where I get incredibly frustrated with myself. I look back at the past 9 years of my life, and all I feel is frustration and irritation that I haven't accomplished more. I escaped an abusive relationship, grew up a LOT and met my husband. Emotionally, I've grown in leaps and bounds. But that doesn't really count for much in the "real world" does it?

I just feel like I haven't done much to improve myself. It's frustrating and annoying. I know I don't have anyone to blame but myself...but that doesn't mean I don't sometimes take it out on everyone else.

I'm doing well for myself now. I'm back in school and working hard on that. I don't know. I'm just having a day...the kind of day that reminds me that I really need to get back on medication of one kind or another. Or at least start rocking the St. John's Wort more regularly.

Whew!

I've been busy.

Before moving back to Missoula, I contacted a bunch of the old crew, to try to convince them that The Camarilla was awesome, and that they should come play with me. I actually wasn't expecting much to happen with it. It's been years, and The World has Moved On, as they say. Much to my surprise and delight, there was enough interest that we decided to make a go of it.

Less than three weeks after moving back to Missoula, we have a chapter approved and we are busting our asses at getting stuff done. Don't believe me? Check out our website - Legion of Shadows - which is a pretty good indicator of all the stuff we've done over the past few weeks.

Honestly? I'm shocked and surprised, in a good way. Several old members from the Before Times have returned and have already renewed their memberships. There are others who are considering returning, and who definitely plan on coming to play with us to try it out. It's kind of overwhelming, in a way. And a little terrifying. All of these new people wanting to come play an awesome game...and they stick ME with ST'ing for Cam/Anarch. This could either be really good or really, really bad. Hopefully it'll be good though.

So yeah. I've spent a lot of time the last three weeks working on putting together a newsletter, rebuilding prestige logs, and brainstorming stuff to make the chapter go. On top of that, I've been asked to assist with the Membership Handbook Revisions. It's either an honor or a curse, and I haven't quite decided which yet. Of course, I've only read like 1,000 of the 10gajillion e-mails on there, so maybe my brain just isn't sufficiently mushy yet.

Needless to say...Cam stuff is going really well. At last nights meeting, we had 10 people show up...the 5 in the chapter, and 5 additional people! 2 signed up for their temp memberships last night. One of these days, I'll take a break and not do any cam stuff. But for now, off to work on rebuilding prestige logs more...whoooooo!

More from Wal-Mart

This is getting ridiculous. I'm pretty much at the end of my rope with this entire situation. I didn't blog about it yesterday because, well, I had other stuff going on.

Anyway, I spoke with the disputes department at Green Dot. As expected, they've denied our dispute. Their reason, 'You made a charge on your card 2 hours after the charge in Bulgaria.' I am not sure at ALL how this proves that we made the charge, but that is their stance on it. Apparently, even though I explained to them time and time and time again that the cards never left our wallets didn't mean a thing.

I have been told I can start another dispute, and provide more information. It was suggested to me that I contact the bank in Bulgaria to get information from them. Funny, I assumed that was the job of the disputes department...since, you know, they said they would be doing that.

At this point, I will be contacting the student legal services to see what we can do from here. I am tired of dealing with Green Dot, and this is utterly ridiculous. I have been advised that I should take this to small claims court, which is definitely an option.

I sent this letter to Green Dot customer service last night. I wonder if they'll actually respond to me?

To Whom it May Concern,

My name is April Horinek, and I am writing you regarding a situation
that I have been dealing with regarding my Green Dot Pre-Paid Money
Card through Wal-Mart. This situation has left me bewildered and
frustrated, and has left me encouraging everyone I know to avoid your
service at all costs. I found your e-mail address through various
other websites detailing complaints with your service.

On December 7, 2010, an unauthorized charge was made on my account in
the amount of $272. This was discovered when my husband (Colin
Douglas, secondary card holder) went to purchase groceries and it was
declined. As we needed groceries on our house so my family could eat,
he purchased just the essentials for the amount of $7. When he got
home and told me what had happened, I immediately logged into my
account online to see what the problem was.

This unauthorized charge was made from an ATM in Sophia, Bulgaria. I
immediately contacted your customer service department regarding this
situation. Since then, I have had nothing but trouble from your
customer service department - representatives, supervisors, and people
in the disputes department.

As a note - this happened on December 7th. On December 17th, my
husband and I took off on a cross-country move. Not having nearly
$300 was crippling throughout the move. We have had to borrow money
from family members and put off paying bills and it has really caused
a lot of issues in our lives.

I was told when I contacted your customer service department, that
there was nothing that could be done until the charge had posted to my
account. This in and of itself was strange, and was incredibly
frustrated. Several of your supervisors who I spoke to at this time
told me very clearly that my case was cut and dry...that there was no
way I could have been in Bulgaria making a withdrawal and then in
Oklahoma making one the same day! I was assured, numerous times, that
the money would be returned to me in a timely fashion. I was told by
one of your supervisors that I should call the bank in Bulgaria, to
see if they would reverse the charges for me. I explained, as
patiently as I possibly could, that I didn't speak Bulgarian. That I
couldn't even find contact information for this bank.

I also was advised to cancel my card and have a new one sent to me.
As I was moving in a week and a half, I was concerned that it would
not get to me in time. At first, I was basically told, "Tough. Thats
just too bad. But you can pay extra and get it overnighted!" Which I
thought was ridiculous. Eventually, one of your supervisors did send
us new cards at no expedited charge. That was one of the few things
your company did right through this whole mess.

I did in fact file a police report with the Tulsa PD. Unfortunately,
due to moving from Oklahoma to Montana, I never received my paper copy
of the report.

After the charge had posted to my account, I called your company to
file the dispute. At that time, I was told that they would begin the
process. They would do all of the research and all of the leg work,
and all I had to do was send in a dispute letter. As I was in the
midst of moving, it took me several days to get the dispute letter
sent. However, I was assured that it would be 7-10 business days from
the time they opened the dispute - regardless of when I sent in my
letter.

That, again, was a blatant lie. When I sent the letter in, I was told
it would be 7-10 business days from the time they received my letter.
Again though, I was assured that my situation was cut and dry, and
taht there was nothing further required of me. I asked every one of
your supervisors that I spoke with if there was anything additional I
needed to send your company. I told them I did not have the paper
police report, and I was assured that it would be fine, that it was
just not needed for my case.

This morning, I spoke with Mary in your disputes department. She told
me my dispute had been resolved, although not in my favor. Their
reasoning? "Because you made a transaction 2 hours after the $272,
you obviously still had your cards." As I explained to her - as I had
explained to EVERY SINGLE person I spoke with - we still had the cards
in our possession. The cards were never stolen. We had them, up
until we cut them up. No one else had our cards. But someone
obviously was able to get our information and forge our card. Mary
told me that I should contact the bank - IN BULGARIA - and speak with
them about getting further information and documentation proving I did
not make the withdrawal. As I said to her - that was their job to
research. I was told THEY would gather all of that information while
they were reviewing my case.

I was told that if I can get a copy of the police report, they will
consider reopening my dispute, and will start the process all over
again.

I am less than pleased with this entire situation. I have spent hours
on the phone with representatives and supervisors trying to work this
out. I have been reassured time and time again that I would have my
money back in a timely fashion, only to be denied on a completely
ridiculous basis. When my husband and I went to Mexico earlier this
year, I called a week before we left to inform your company that we
would be out of the country, just so that there would be nothing
suspicious on our card. It is impossible for a charge to be made in
Bulgaria at an ATM and then another made in Tulsa within 2 hours of
one another. I could even show you my passport that OBVIOUSLY does
not have any stamps going to Bulgaria.

I will be filing complaints with the Better Business Bureau regarding
this situation. At this time, I am discussing my options with my
husband and looking for advice through our legal aid office. We did
everything we were asked to do, and yet we are still out nearly $300.
Our money was stolen in what was OBVIOUSLY a fraudulent act, and we
have had nothing but trouble from your company - the company that we
chose to use, on good faith. I feel as though we have been given the
run around for over a month, and it is absurd. I as the customer - as
a paying customer who has been with your company for 2 years - should
not be treated in such a manner.

Thank you for your time,

April Horinek & Colin Douglas

Annoyed and Ranty

In fact, I am so annoyed and ranty that I don't even know where I want to begin.

Grrrr! Arrrrgh! Rar! April-Hulk-Smash! Pink Valkyrie Needs Meat Badly! SMOOOSH!

On the plus side though, tonight is happy-fun-crafty time. I gets to make shiny jewelry. Wewt and yay.

Maybe I'll decide on a ranty topic later. Maybe not. We'll see. Maybe I'm just PMS'y, so the entire world pisses me off.

Ok, to be fair, I am PROBABLY PMS'y.

So don't piss me off, world! RAR!

Wal-Mart is the devil, you say? Surely not!

Or, maybe they are.
For those of you following along at home, I give you this -

So apparently I was in Bulgaria this afternoon. No, really, I was.

I am freaking out. This just might send me over the edge, here.

Colin went to get groceries. It was denied, said we were over on our card. Which is not true, since I checked it like 4 hours ago and we had nearly $300 on there.

Sometime between then and now, someone in FUCKING BULGARIA did an atm withdrawal for almost $300. Somehow they had my card and my ATM and were able to do that.

Of course, I called WalMart (it is a pre-paid debit card so we don't get ourselves into monetary trouble.) THERE IS NOTHING THEY CAN DO FOR ME. I screamed, a lot. It is the only time I've ever screamed and yelled like that on a call with someone. Apparently, at Borica Bulgaria RFB ATM, someone was able to take our money. It is pending at the moment, which means that the bank may or may not collect on it. If the bank collects on it? Then I have to write a dispute letter and we have to hope that the bank will give us the money back. If they don't, then it won't expire until the 17th. Which means I won't get the money until the 18th. A day after we are supposed to move.

I am completely freaking out right now. We SHOULD be ok without it...but that $300 was a buffer in case anything happened. That money was to make SURE that we would get to Montana safely.

Oh, even fucking better, I had to report the card as compromised. You know, so the dickwads can't take more money. Guess how long it takes to get a new card? 7-10 business days. Guess where I am SUPPOSED to be by that point? Fucking MONTANA! They can expadite it of course, but I had to pay an extra $20 to get my card in 3-5 business days!!!

I am so fucking furious I can't even see straight. I don't know what we're going to do if the money doesn't come through. I'm just thanking god that we didn't deposit the cash we have. Without the 300, we'll be OK...but...

Freaking out. Seriously. Don't know what to do. screams I don't need this!!!!!

For the past MONTH and some change, I have been battling with them. They have given me nothing but the run-around, and we still do not have our money back. I have sent them their dispute letter, I have waited patiently even though they give me conflicting information and I can hardly understand most of them. I have been incredibly patient.

Until today.

Today was a day where I nearly went through the phone and smacked someone.

Today is 10 business days from when they received my dispute letter and theoretically, they should have had a resolution for me. First call I make, I ask to speak with a manager and I am on hold for nearly 10 minutes - at which time the system automatically transfers me to the customer satisfaction survey. How do I know that is what happened? It's happened to me FIVE times through all of this.

Next I call back, and demand a manager right off the bat. Once again, on hold for too long, and I get the customer satisfaction survey. I actually DO the survey this time, and give them all crappy marks.

Third times a charm, right? I call and demand a manager off the bat, again. The guy must have realized I was incandescent with rage, as he promptly got me to a manager. This one was bright enough to check in with me every few minutes to make sure I didn't get shuffled off again.

Before I go any further, I must state that I am not mad at the supervisor I spoke to. He did everything in his power (as far as I can tell) to help me resolve my issue.

I spent another 15 minutes or so on hold, but he was very polite, and kept checking in with me. I tried very hard not to be pissy with him, he was being competent. So he gets back on the line, and tells me he has bad news for me.

He tells me they have denied our dispute. And the reason given is because 2 hours after the unauthorized charge was made, there was a $7.00 charge at a grocery store in Tulsa. So, because my husband bought groceries so we could eat, we would be penalized nearly $300? Oh hell no!

I started yelling. A lot. And crying. There were tears and a lot of incoherency. To his credit, he apologized profusely and commiserated. I explained to him in exact detail what had happened the day that the money was taken. Apparently, that was not quite what they had in the system...even though that was what I had described EVERY time I had talked to people there. And that was the exact information in my dispute letter. He offered to speak to the dispute department to see what else could be done. I told him that'd be a VERY good idea.

He told me he had sent my information along to to the dispute department with a high priority. He told me that they would review my information and they would call me back. I told him, as calmly as I possibly could, that I had been promised that before. I'd been told someone from disputes would call me, and no one had contacted me. I also impressed upon him that I wasn't angry at him, but that the situation was utterly ridiculous. That it is completely unacceptable to treat a customer the way I have been treated.

Not even 10 minutes later, I got a call from the dispute department. She assured me that the review was NOT completed yet. When I informed her that it was 10 business days, and I wanted a resolution, she told me that they had sent me an extension letter...so it would still take some time. I pretty much got the same run around from her, being told that they were still reviewing it and that it should be resolved by the end of the week. But she did promise to make sure someone called me back sometime this week.

We have to face the very real possibility that we will not be getting our money back from this little fun time. We discussed trying to go to Legal Aid if they won't give us the money back. But as Colin's dad told him, it is an international situation. So I'm guessing that is why it is taking Wal-Mart so long to do this. In fact, I am fairly certain they will not be able to get us our money back, and we're just going to be shit out of luck over it.

I can't really begin to describe how upset I am right now. I have been given the run around for over a month, and we STILL don't have our money back. God only knows when - if ever - we'll see that money again. Their customer service representatives are rude, they are IMPOSSIBLE to understand, and they obviously cannot take accurate notes. The supervisors are marginally better, but they promise things they can't deliver on.

When this is over, we will be closing down our Wal-Mart account, and we will not be using it again. If you have a Wal-Mart money card, I encourage you to do the same thing. This entire thing has been utterly ridiculous, and I feel like I've been treated horribly. In fact, at this point, I plan on avoiding Wal-Mart when at all possible. I realize there will be times when it is the only convenient option, but I will avoid it when I can. There will also be letters written to corporate and complaints written to the BBB.

So that is that. I should be getting my student loans in sometime in the next week or two, but we could REALLY use that money to live on until then. All in all, I am totally unimpressed, and pretty much furious.

The Cam Returns!

We had our first chapter meeting last night to hash out the details of the new Missoula chapter. All in all, it went amazingly well, and I'm feeling really excited about bringing the Cam back to Missoula.

Ryan will be our Chapter Coordinator, and he seems very excited about the position. I'll be doing the monthly newsletter, Colin will be acting as ACC Charities/Socials/Fundraisers, Mick will be getting the website up and running and then Adrienne will be maintaining it, Adrienne is going to run Lost, I'm going to run Cam/Anarch, and Colin will run Mage if there is enough interest in it. You may laugh now at me running a game.

Right now, we have our requisite 5 paid members. However, meeting with the Campus RP'er group this past weekend left me feeling very positive. Many of them are very excited about trying new games (especially Changeling) and I think we can easily get them to sign up with the Cam. Plus, we'll be able to work with the Campus Role Player club and get campus space for our games! This is a huge plus, and takes a big weight off my shoulders. Finding a gaming space is rarely easy, and oftentimes is not free. This is free, and we pretty much have our pick of space on campus, as long as it isn't in use. WooHoo!

At this point, I need to get on all of the domain lists in the region. For our newsletter, I want to show that even if you don't have ANY members who will contribute, you can still put out a lengthy and informative piece for the members of your domain/chapter/region/etc. I'll be lurking on as many lists as I possibly can and smooshing that information into our newsletters. Want to know what games are being run in Kansas City? Look at the Newsletter! Or on the calender on the website!

For those of you who might not know, I am a Geek. I role play. I play DnD, I LARP, I play MMOPRG's. Fully certified Geekitude. The Camarilla is a Global Role playing Organization. We do Live Action Role Play for White Wolf's World of Darkness line. Through it, I have met the vast majority of my friends, my husband, and I have found a social group and family that has been amazingly supportive of me over the years. We have our faults and we have our failings, but we're still a family. Live Action Role Play is a like like improvisational theater. You create a character with a background and a story and you interact with other characters. It's a lot of fun, and offers an amazing creative outlet - costuming, writing backgrounds, creating this amazing rich story with other players. It's just a lot of fun, and will likely always be one of my creative and social outlets.

I started gaming in Missoula, and this place feels like home for me. I was really worried that we wouldn't be able to get a chapter up and running when we got here, and I am happy to report that less than two weeks after arriving, we've already ironed out many of the kinks and we are ready to go!

Now I just have to finish a VSS and come up with a story that will keep my players excited. EEP!

And the Plot Thickens!

So, we got the car down the mountain today. It was a little bit dicey getting it down, but on Mick's suggestion, I took her down in 'L' gear and kept pumping the brakes. We made it down successfully and got the chains off - sure enough, one had broken.

Get the car into Tire Rama, and they tell me they are going to keep it for a few days. They have the part, but they want to try a few more things before they replace it. Namely, they want to check beneath the fuse box, because when this happens, sometimes there is something messed up under the fuse box that causes it.

So I get a call several hours, and the news is not good.

To fix the problem, they are going to have to completely replace the fuse box, as well as the bracket and clean everything up. Apparently, someone has taken the fuse box out before. And broke the bracket in the process. And then spilled...something...all over. With parts and labor, he estimated it would cost $950 to fix the lights.

Totally not fucking worth it.

Once this pos is paid off, we're going to be trading it in for a new vehicle. I am NOT willing to pay that much. I'll just have to live with having only one headlight.

But at least we have brakes! Yay for no more Death Mobile!

It just gets BETTER

Yesterday, my brakes started feeling a little squishy. I put brake fluid in them, and they seemed to be better. And the brake light went off, so I figured I'd be ok.

Then we tried to get up the goddamned mountain.

We got about half-way up, and it was pretty obvious we weren't going anywhere. The chains were working, and then they started clacking. I think we broke one, again. So, I took my foot off the brake slightly to start rolling back. And started rolling back at an alarming rate.

After several minutes of terror, I was able to ease the van mostly down the mountain. At least down the worst part. Keeping it in neutral and driving on the snow rather than the ice meant that we didn't die on the way down. Or hit our roommates car. Both of which were very serious concerns. It's a damn good thing I'm a snow and ice goddess.

Problem with this? We were half-way up the mountain, and still had to get home. And it was 12:30. It took Colin and I probably an hour or so to get up there. Not because it is very far, but because there was a shit-ton of snow and ice. Guess what my husband was wearing? His kilt. I was wearing jeans, but they don't help much when the snow can still get in your sneakers.

We got most of the way up, trudging through the snow, to the place where we would have to cross the ice to get the rest of the way up. The MOMENT I stepped onto the ice I went down. Hard. On both of my knees. I proceeded to lie on the ice and cry for 15 minutes, because it felt like I had broken something. I cried and I cursed the mountain and I cursed Montana and I generally felt miserable and horrible. I eventually drug my ass up and slowly made my way across.

Our roommate came down to rescue us, bringing snow shoes. Once I got across the ice I was ok, even though I was still in a lot of pain.

My knees are both awfully pretty colors today, and they are very tender. I have several other bruises and I am still incredibly sore. At this point, I'm not going down the mountain until a) I can get a ride from the roommates or maybe our landlords or b) things melt so I can walk down. I am NOT willing to go through pain like that again.

So at this point, I really don't know what to do. I might call Tire Rama tomorrow, and see if they would be able to tow my car and fix the brakes. Of course, I'll have to ask my parents first if they are willing to do that...god only knows how much THAT is going to cost. I don't want to put more money into this vehicle, but it'll be awhile before we can afford another one.

I have an idea that maybe we'll keep the van, and just buy a 4-wheel drive vehicle to supplement it. But I am not going to worry about that until we get our van fixed. Hopefully, I'll hurt less tomorrow and we can actually figure this out.

All in all - I'm just REALLY glad we made it down the mountain safely. That could have been so much worse...

The Cam Returns

One of the things that Colin and I are doing here in Missoula is starting the old Cam chapter back up. This is where I started gaming, and it just feels right to have a larp going again. Plus - I love the Cam. For all of it's faults (and there are many and more) I do love the organization. The ability to have a global chronicle and to travel to conventions is great. Plus? I like having set rules. I like having people above you in the chain who you can (theoretically) go to for advice and assistance. It's a good system. It has some kinks to work out with the NPFO changeover, but thats ok.

Tonight, after dinner with friends, we're heading off to our first meeting of the campus Role Players group. It should be fun to meet people and wine and dine them, so to speak. At this current moment, we have our 5 required players. One of them needs to be renewed, but that isn't a problem. I have the God of Storage sending me all of our old reports and logs he might have, so I can rebuild logs for people who have lost theirs. We have a coordinator, we have a storyteller. We need a VSS for the game, and we're pretty much set. Oh, and Colin and I need to be fully transferred, but that won't be too much of an issue, I hope. I've only been working on it for 2 months, so we'll see.

This should be interesting. I am hoping it doesn't crash and burn spectacularly. Oh, and by the way, I have been coerced into running Cam/Anarch. This should be fun and exciting!

The ongoing saga of a possessed car

Definitely better then being a repossessed car, this is true.

To give some background - several months ago, we noticed a horrendous grinding noise from one of our brakes. After much cursing and some fretting on my part (car things make me freak out like nobody's business) we took the van into Midas. They promised they'd fix it first thing in the morning.

Come the next morning, I get a call and they tell me that one of our headlights is burned out. This is...odd, to say the least, as I hadn't really noticed it beforehand. I tell them to change it, and that I'd be there in several hours to pick up my van.

I get to the shop, and I am told that there is more to the problem then they initially thought. After changing all of the bulbs in my van several times, and fussing about, they come to the conclusion that the modulator-convertor-alternator-computer thingy bobber is bad. They quote me a price of nearly $600 to get a new one, along with a wait of nearly two weeks. I'm not so keen on this idea, and decide to go the used route. They call around, and find no used ones, but assure me that a used part of this kind will work just fine.

They LIED!

We get the part, change it out. It doesn't work. I send it back to the company, get another one, and it works. For the first day. See, the funny thing about this particular problem is that it doesn't happen all the time. When my lights are on, my drivers side light is out. When my brights go on, my passenger side goes out. Every time I explain this to a mechanic, they look at me like I've grown a second head. This thing happens sporadically, sometimes even flashing off and on while we're driving down the highway. We get pulled over several times, but we always explain we are working on it, and we never get a ticket.

After last nights fun little adventure in super freak out mode, we took the car into Tire Rama. If you live in Missoula, go to the Tire Rama on Stephens. They are good people, and they've always taken good care of me. And the owner is from the hi-line. My parents are going to pay for this little fix, so I give him the information and my name.

I tell him my name, and I get, "So! Who do you belong to?" and we begin to discuss my family. It sure is nice being back in Montana and related to half the state. ;)

They find what they believe to be the cause of the flashing, honking, pea-soup-spewing antics of my van. There is a large amount of corrosion on my battery, and they feel that triggered the alarm system. Plausible cause, and as long as my car doesn't go all Linda Blair on me again, I am content to let it rest.

And then we begin to discuss the bizarre headlight issue we've experienced. And they tell me that Dodge has issued not one, not two, but FOUR new parts since my car was released in 2000. Which means that when we got those used parts? We were getting old ones. That didn't work, and still had this issue. Yeap. $400 or so in parts and labor down the damn drain.

The shop here quotes me $400 for the part. Ugh. I call Mommy, and she gives the green light. It's something that has to be fixed eventually and they tell me at the shop that if it doesn't work, of course they'll send it back and we'll be back to the drawing board.

So now, I have a car that (hopefully, knock on wood) will not decide to randomly beep and flash and murder Catholic priests. As long as THAT stays good, I really don't care if I only have one headlight.

Tonight? Off to a jewelry class while the husband heads off to a night of BASH with friends. I am feeling less anxious today, and less likely to stab things in the face. I don't feel like I need to curl up and cry, and I think that maybe - just maybe - everything is going to be ok.

Total Frustration!

You know what I really hate? Being the way I am. Being manic-depressive with a bad back and hips that like to pop out of place and a totally fucked up gastric thing. I hate the way I react to the world around me sometimes, and it really makes me wonder why I even bother leaving the house some day.

Every time I get like this, I remind myself it is just another downswing, eventually I'll get over it. I just have to soldier through a few days of wild mood swings and tears and frustration with everyone and everything around me. That doesn't help much.

Today was a BAD day. There were some bright points, this is true. We got a bed off Freecycle, that was definitely awesome. Not so awesome was trying to find a way to get it in the van, and my husband and I screaming at each other in the street as we fought with the damn thing. Eventually I caved and acquiesced to his plan to put it on the roof. It worked, which only fueled my frustration when I felt like I got my nose rubbed in it.

Then, we went to attempt our goddamn mountain...only to find out that one of the chains was broken. More screaming ensued, before trekking to WalMart to exchange them. First WalMart didn't have them, but the second one did. Success! Off to coffee to relax, because I knew if I went home, I'd go to sleep and that would be that. Met up with the roommates at coffee, had a lovely time, decided to partake of Five Guys burgers before heading home. Mmmm burgers.

On the way to the burger joint, my car decided it was possessed. Lights flashing, horn honking, and I kind of totally freaked out. Found our way to a side street, and commenced freaking out some more. Couldn't figure it out, called the roommates. Their suggestion was to unhook the battery...would be awesome if I knew how to do that (well, I do now, but I didn't then.) Some kindly man stopped, suggested I try a gas station down the way. So, I did just that. They removed the fuse for the horn, so at least that stopped honking, and told me the lights should go off on their own.

I proceed to call Mommy and Daddy and beg them to help us out. They agree to pay for it, and we'll pay them back. So now we at least have a payment method for the crap, just have to get it there and get them to fix it. We get home successfully, no death up the mountain (I'm always a little worried that I'm going to drive off and die...) We get the battery unplugged, and when we plug it back in, no more crazy flashing.

It's going in tomorrow to get looked at. I don't need my car to spaz out at me like that on a regular basis.

We have a bed. That is important.

I love Missoula, and I am VERY happy to be here. Today though, I am just completely fucking frustrated!