saturday morning…

hey, ho there sports fans…  Kermit the frog here…

can you believe?  the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina…  it’s just awful.  and there are folks still living in FEMA trailers, with asbestos, black mold, and other things which are awful which I’m sure I don’t know about…

and Joe Fucking BIDEN, encouraging people to PRAY that Gustav doesn’t fuck the Gulf over again?   that the levees hold?;_ylt=AoQSUnpjts6pfJrxi7Fk0URh24cA

I don’t know about you, but that is just offensive to me.  people in a position of power, like two sitting US Senators who are running for P and VP, should be able to do a lot better than telling people to FUCKING PRAY.

Although I have long believed in the efficacy of prayer, both for the one who prays and the recipient of the prayer…  but this should not be national policy, nor encouragement from a US Senator who has enough power to push through emergency legislation which would do more than house people in the fucking Superdome for months, and then find them shitty-ass trailers.  and then give away the “surplus supplies” which were totally needed, things like water and soap and mops and brooms.  there was an article on democracy now a few weeks ago.  I’ll see if I can find it and link to it.

For a lovely, delicious, and well-thought out consideration of biblical responses to suffering, see Bart Ehrman’s wonderful book, God’s Problem:  How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question – Why we Suffer.

Really well done.  Not overly theological-language-pomposity, either.  I had quite enough $6 words in seminary, thank you very much.  It addresses prayer, God’s indifference to the weather, the Holocaust, and other horrible things which have happened in recent memory.

the Bush presidency’s response to Hurricane Katrina did no more than punish people for being black and poor.  and it proves, once again, that Compassionate Conservatism is morally bankrupt.

others have said this better than I ever could, but I sorta feel it’s worth saying.


in other news, I had…  well, for lack of better words, an anxiety episode this week.
-moving, packing,
-the uncertainty of whether or not the purchase of the house would go through (those assholes)
-dealing with my duct-tape ass broken glasses/getting headaches all the time (I finally got my new spectacles this wednesday)
-dealing with my mother (whole nother post…)
-being fired from one job and asked not to return to another, (see recent post about employment or lack therof)
-finally dealing with the other side of the story of two friends, one friend who accused the other of sexual assault…

yes, I lost my shit.  or, as whass-face said in Ya-Ya Sisterhood, “I dropped my basket.”  (the fuck does that mean?)

I’m not really sure what happened, with my two friends.  still.  I want to believe, really want to believe, that my one friend (the guy) wouldn’t coerce my other friend (the gal) into anything whatsoever.  but apparently pants were dropped and something happened after that, and I’m not really sure what it was.  whether or not it was coersion, whether or not it was forced, or even suggested without question.  the gal in this scenario has a long, undealt-with history of being sexually assaulted by multiple people.   and the guy, god bless him, does not have the sexual experience to be able to know, well, how to spot the kind of trouble he just got himself into, and therefore avoid it.

so after many long emails, I decided I couldn’t deal with that anymore, and put it on hold.  I’m pretty confident that it was not his intention to force a bj/handjob on this girl.  but I’m also pretty confident that she’s operating out of such dysfuntion that she would go into panic mode and go through with a bj/handjob, smile through it, and then go break down somewhere where she’s safe afterwards.

yeah, I too have a history of sexual assault, and I have enough savvy to tell if someone is trouble, and this whole episode makes my heart break for both of my friends, who are basically good people, though, as we all are, flawed.

well, I should have called the pharmacy to refill my meds earlier, but it was just all building up and happening too fast.  so I’m on anti-depressants, but probably should be one anti-anxiety as well, and with no health insurance, no job, and…  feeling like a helpless loser…

I finally broke down on Thursday, sobbing uncontrollably, and feeling pretty miserable.  then I went to the pharmacy, refilled my anti-d’s, had a chicken sandwich from Wendy’s with extra big soda and fries, and took a nap.

I woke up feeling much better, hung out with my dad, and went to play pool after, and I woke up both yesterday morning, and this morning feeling almost normal.

almost normal.

I should have recognized the warning signs:  I couldn’t eat anything Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday…  until later in the afternoon, when I had a sandwich or something.  I don’t have a history of eating disorders.  but I do have a history of not being able to eat, not wanting to eat, even though I know I’m hungry, or should be hungry, when things get bad.

so…. crisis averted.  crisis finished, more like.  any suggestions for avoiding future panic attacks?  comments welcome.

roommies bean and bella are looking at a new house, since the other one fell through.  (those JACKASSES at the LOAN THING WHICH I DON’T FULLY UNDERSTAND…)

soon-to-be roommie bunny is coming up from Wherever She’s Coming From (she’ll be comin’ round the mountain when she comes…)

and today I can:
-type stuff on bean’s computer cause mine is being pissy (stupid defrag)

go to therapy, (whoo-hooo)

find Mom’s cat Jack who I am supposed to be tending (Mom left for Nevada yesterday and took the dog Lucky)
xref Mom causing me anxiety…  with the 20 minute convo which should have been:
 Mom:  “anna are you still gonna take care of Jack?”
me:  “Yeah, mom, totally.   no biggy.”

Mom:  “Okay.”
but instead was a dithering, revolting anxiety-laden drama. which sent me over the edge… with the bawling and feeling out of control.

-play pool and look for jobs, and pack today.  which will be nice.

and.  gawd BUNNY YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE…  I have started a Simon/Firefly fanfic called “a different class of criminal,” which will be MADE OF AWESOME as soon as bella is done editing it…  and I am done revising it, and after bella is done editing that one… and bunny  you can help with the Action Sequences, cause I have trouble with that stuff.  I’m so introspective, I just can’t help it with my characters, because they just sit on their bums, thinking thinking, all the time…  then they do stuff.  What do they do?  I dunno.  I’m too busy thinking, thinking all the time.  maybe my characters should go to therapy.  that would be great.  🙂

okay.  that’s all for now.

mwah, anna

ps.  thnx for reading & have a super day!

2 thoughts on “saturday morning…”

  1. Postscript: apparently I can’t spell hurricanE…

    I guess there are worse things to not be able to spell. like syphilis.

    turns out withdrawal from anti-depressions is *really really* bad. you have to take them every day. and this is what over-anxious Anna does when she forgets to refill her anti-depressants on time.

    yes. and let’s *never* do that again *ever,* shall we? not?

    mwah, going to take a nap now. I completely forgot to add a nap to my to-do list. but it’s a saturday-afternoon given, really. a thing which reoccurs every week and therefore does not need scheduling…

    bye *snoooze*


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