Oh. Fuck.


July 31, 2021 :: 9:38 AM

all I need is a 16 minute mile… and to NOT die

Soooooooooooooooo

Assuming the new wave of Coronavirus doesn’t cancel the races, I’m running both Wine and Dine and Marathon weekends.

Yes.

THE FUCKING DOPEY CHALLENGE. #DOPEY2021 IS REAL (although a year late)

I have no idea what I’m doing - I had planned on skipping the race this year. But it’s the 50th anniversary of the House of Mouse and I plan to be one and done, so why not?

My newsfeed was packed full of people wanting to register so I didn’t think I had a hope in hell of making it in.

Yeah… my luck is never that good. LOL

One more time for those not obsessing over these races with me:

Wine & Dine - 5K, 10K, Half Marathon - 4 medals - one for each race and one for the two course challenge (10K + half). That’s 22.4 miles over three days. The 5K is optional, but why the fuck not? It’s a practice run for January.

Dopey kicks it up a notch - 5K, 10K, Half, Full Marathon - 6 medals - SIX! - one for each race, then the Goofy Challenge (half + full), and then the Dopey medal. None of the races are optional. That’s 48.6 miles over four days.

There is something wrong with me.

Speaking of things that are wrong with me…

I get lost in video games when I can’t get lost in my head. There’s too much noise in there right now as I start to approach being stable.

The mood swings are lessening. The depression is no longer such a heavy weight on my shoulders. (Still there, still affecting the day-to-day, but there is finally - FINALLY!!!!! - a light at the end of the tunnel. AND it’s not a train!)

All because we hired an AP person…. and now I don’t know what to do on the weekends.

But, anyhoo, all that to say, I’m addicted to the Sims 4 again. (I’m also oddly into watching speed builds on YouTube and I still can’t wrap my brain around how that’s a valid form of income…)

One of the Simmers uses two mods that I was really interested in and I decided to try them. (MC Command Centre and UI Cheats) Then I fell down the rabbit hole of custom content and other mods.

There is a bipolar mod. A BIPOLAR MOD.

And one that brings drugs into the Sims. You want to grow weed in your place? OK. You want to sell weed? MMDA? Coke? Heroin? Yup. All of it.

You can even make your sim an alcoholic / stoner / addict. It shows the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ of a chemically altered life.

Of course, I had to check that shit out.

So… I made a sim that highlighted the “best” parts of my mother:

Bipolar? Check

Smokes weed from time to time? Check

Constantly drunk? Check check

Yeah… that sim didn’t last too long before I cheated to get rid of the bipolar and and make them sober.

Plus, you know, I play to escape reality… not live it in a virtual world.

I haven’t looked too deeply into the 18+ mods and custom content because… I don’t know… they feel too dirty for the Sims. But if I were into that… my sims could be a prostitute, run a strip club, be a porn star, make sex tapes, and leave dildos and condoms all over the bedroom. Like seriously… if that’s your cup of tea, you’ll find everything you want and more.

Yeah… that’s not really for me.

It was kind of eye opening to see just how much content is out there, though. I’ve never been into mods and custom content, but I downloaded a bunch of “safe” things - just boring, vanilla, game play modifications.

I’ve got a bunch of things to do this weekend, so I’m going to end it here.

(Besides, there are cows and llamas and chickens to buy after I build my country house in Henford-on-Bagley!!!) MOOOOOOOOO!

(and holy shit - this entire post is textbook mania in a written form. whoops)

Bork bork bork


July 02, 2021 :: 4:24 PM

just some adorable #otayuri because I can

Oh. My. Fuck.

Please, someone, make sure my tombstone reads “... and she went off into the sunset shouting, NO BETA! WE DIE LIKE MEN!

Life does not need to take direction from some stupid question asked by a stupid teenager on a stupid Facebook group.

Besides, didn’t I say I was the deadest of doves?

A few nights ago, I decided to do Camp NaNoWriMo, because why the fuck not? I’m not working weekends any more and torturing myself sounds like a perfectly good idea.

I set a lofty goal of 500 words during the month of July. Not a typo. 500 words. That’s a whopping 17 words a day.

Why such a low, totally achievable in one day goal?

Because. Ukrainian.

I am going to blog a minimum of 20 words a day in Ukrainian and NOT rely on Google Translate. I’m hoping that I can remember more words than I need to look up, but it’s already day two and I’m out of ideas.

Blogging. In Ukrainian.

Nope. This isn’t a bad idea in the slightest. (The fuck-it factor comes back to haunt me…)

There’s one teeny, tiny, little issue.

My current webhost HATES Cyrillic. For whatever reason, too much Ukrainian causes them to shut my site down. Some sort of protection against Russian bots, I guess.

Despite that, I decided that I would use a domain already set up on this host to blog from and use WordPress. I didn’t want to recreate the wheel, after all. Blogging in Ukrainian is going to be hard enough. No reason to drive myself crazier by needing a whole new blog.

I want to like WordPress. I really, really, do. Shit, I know the person who named it.

But I’ve been with ExpressionEngine since it was still pMachine… and now that it’s on version SIX(!!!) and FREE(!!!), I figured I would try to use EE instead of WP.

Well.

The EE install went bad. Terribly.

I had to update the PHP version and then this thingy wouldn’t work. I downgraded PHP and then that thingy wouldn’t work. The permissions wouldn’t stick.

It was a fucking nightmare.

I decided to go back to WP, because why not. A 1-step install. Even I couldn’t fuck that up.

NO BETA! WE DIE LIKE MEN!

I didn’t need to do a back up. How badly could I fuck up my site?

Badly, in fact.

So badly that I was in tears waiting for tech support to find a backup for me.

So. Yeah.

I ended up installing WP in the wrong directory.

Lost UGCU. Lost GA. Lost WAE.

I don’t even know how I took out Good Advices and With an E considering I installed WP in the UkieGirl directory…

WordPress overwrote my ExpressionEngine index.php file.

I uploaded the original one from the EE download folder.

I uploaded the one from Good Advices and fixed the one setting that I changed.

I uploaded the one from With an E.

*crickets*

They found a backup and GA came back to life. UkieGirl came back to life. With an E has never seen the light of day, but the test page loaded OK.

After that, I decided to move to a new webhost.

I did the 1-step WP install and began to hate life.

I still hate life, but there is no way in fuck that I am doing any of that again.

An apology isn’t worth shit


June 28, 2021 :: 8:31 PM

an apology isn’t worth shit if you don’t know what the fuck you’re apologising for, you asshole

I took my ugly mood the other day and obliterated a relationship it took me three drafts and over 100K words to build.

And I have no fucking idea how to put them back together.

The universe hates me.


June 23, 2021 :: 7:08 PM

How have you hurt me? Let me count the ways…

So… that was randomly fitting. Not amused that it showed up today, though.

Yesterday, I was talking to a coworker about a coworker that left. Former coworker once told me that I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was.

I never told him that the scar between my eyebrows is from a cigarette. I was five or six when my mother chose to use my forehead as an ashtray.

But. Yeah.

Just because I don’t talk about all those “that which doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger” moments, doesn’t mean I don’t have them.

Back to the scar through, because that was the trigger.

Current coworker said that he’d be willing to go back and fix his mistakes. I said I wouldn’t change a fucking thing.

When he asked why, I didn’t really have an answer.

I just wouldn’t.

All the shit I went through - the chance to fix things - to have my father live longer - all of it… nope. Wouldn’t change a goddamn thing.

(Which makes me question my mental health, but that’s nothing new.)

There’s no way I’d trade my scars for better ones

Yeah.

I had this dream last night about my mother. I NEVER dream about her. When I dream about family it’s always my father… and it’s always the nightmare of finding him dead in his apartment.

I can’t even remember all the details, but it was upsetting.

LIKE SUPER UPSETTING.

I am obviously not as tough as I think I am if that dream rocked my world… and not in a good way.

Other than the dad-mares, I’e never woken up crying before.

I was back to being young me, pre-divorce, pre-death…

I’ve been lost and I’ve been sinking / Broken, coming back together / I’ve been stalling, slipping, falling…

Fuck, dude. You have no idea.

She fucking broke me and I relieved some of her greatest hits (yup, I went there) last night.

It took moving out and her dying before I could finally start to heal.

I’ve been lost and I’ve been broken / Finally coming back together

I’ve never been suicidal, but I’ve gone to dark, dangerous, places. She sent me there. Often.

I don’t wanna be afraid of my thoughts / I don’t wanna be scared of my shadow

It’s taken a lot of work to put her behind me… but, of course, I’m not free of her. I doubt I’ll ever be.

The part that I always come back to, the part that I can’t shake, is who my mother was before she became a monster.

She graduated from UConn with a degree in something like Home Ec - child development or some such nonsense.

She was a social worker.

A perfect PTA mom.

Everybody looks for love where it’s not // Everybody wants to know they matter

I don’t think I was ever truly loved.

I don’t think I ever mattered.

The pull of the bottle was stronger than the pull of her only child.

Sooooooooooo…

I’m already in this stupid bad headspace because of the fucking dream and my iPhone decides to play this during my commute.

 

I better dream of fucking puppies and unicorns tonight.

Don’t Panic! / Not Again!


June 12, 2021 :: 10:35 AM

And so, Don’t Panic - the most recent BotF winner - heads into the finals

I should have posted this AGES ago, but the last Battle of the Fandoms team I was on was Hitchhiker’s themed. It’s a bit of an odd book, one I don’t read often enough, but it was transformative when it came into my life. I can’t read it without thinking of the ex who forced it on me (and who I almost stole it from.) We are still friendly and I’m glad… he was such a huge part of my life.

I digress.

Right now, I’m running for another Hitchhiker’s team in the ‘season finale’. This team will most definitely lose. (There are a LOT of miles between us and first place. Possible, but highly unlikely. I mean, ANYTHING is possible during Racery.)

Normally, I let it bother me… but after a bunch of low milage Racery events, I’m done.

D.O.N.E.

Done.

I’ve gotten to the point where work is almost manageable. I’ve been working half weekends instead of full ones, so that’s progress.

I ran my first miles for Not Again last night. A 10K. The first long run in a while.

And…

Fuck me.

It felt good.

Running hasn’t felt that good in ages. Probably since COVID shut the world down.

Bipolar is a random bitch… some days I’m on top of the world and some days, the Ick is so bad, I want to dig a hole and hide.

Not going to lie, self-care hasn’t been high on my priority list. Surviving has been. Which includes getting the disaster that is the accounting department under control. (It’s been a year-long process…)

My new AR person is finding five figure mistakes - invoices there weren’t collected in a timely fashion. We still haven’t collected all the receivables from Hurricane Laura. That was 9 months ago. Most of that is the fault of the insurance company we worked for, but still. Then there’s the two guys who owed $20K+ - she never followed up on either, even though all the insurance proceeds went to the homeowner. Her replacement hunted one of them down - turns out the homeowner opened a claim, but the job contact was the tenant. We went after both of them until they finally paid us in full. In MAY.

Then, there’s still the small matter that I can’t get the books cleaned up. Every time I try, I seem to fail. Still haven’t closed January 2021.

Or the fact that I’m trying to squeeze HR and IT into already overflowing days.

I’m on my second AP person in a month and so far I think it’s love.

Better than the first one, at least.

So, yeah. I’m back to running. Back to training for Dopey, even though runDisney has been radio silent regarding the future. I’m not even sure I want to run Dopey any more, but I think that’s the depression talking.

I’ve signed up for ALL the Boston races since they’re offering all of them as virtual. No time requirements. I’ve already run the 5K. The 10K is at the end of this month, the half is in mid-September, and the marathon is in October.

This means that I will have my first marathon under my belt in 5 months. FIVE MONTHS.

That also means that I could upgrade my entry into the Palm Beach Marathon to the Marathon. It also means that I might run Miami, too.

I don’t know.

I have motivation again.

SERIOUS motivation.

OH! I almost forgot! We were watching some documentary on BBCAmerica and there is a fucking festival for people who like to watch cat videos on the internet.

Let that sink in for a moment.

The talking head said that people who watch cat videos find their anxiety lessening, they seem to be less depressed…

I HAVE FOUND THE PERFECT CURE FOR MY DEPRESSION AND IT IS NOT MEDS.

IT IS FUCKING CAT VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE.

My shrinky-dink is going to fucking love that. Especially since I can’t take anti-depressants.

It might also explain my desire to own a cat again.

Of course, we can’t because the dog hates them.

He just turned ten and knowing him, he has another full decade or two before he leaves us. So, there might not be a cat in our house for a long time.

But that’s OK. I have YouTube to get me though the dark days.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

The Battle Fish is improbable, yellow, prone to winning, and definitely the oddest thing in the universe. It feeds on the miles logged by other teams and transforms that energy into miles for Don’t Panic. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from each member of the team. It then excretes into the minds of every runner a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with an insatiable desire to win. The practical upshot of all of this is that if you stick a battle fish into your Racery team you can win Battle of the Fandoms. The miles you log are fed into the Racery application and designate the Don’t Panic team as the Season Two, Episode Three victors.  Possible side effects may include extreme giddiness, a desire to compete in all Racery events, the overwhelming need to translate English hashtags into German, fatigue, and some blisters.

Page 2 of 173 pages  < 1 2 3 4 >  Last ›