*Sigh*

May. 7th, 2008 05:11 pm
The cycle is over. Grandma passed away last night. Pray/light a candle for her and for my family. This was my Dad's last parent - he's taking this pretty hard. I've only ever seen him cry a little once: when Matt died. This morning I could tell he'd been sobbing when he called me. He was barely under control...

As for me, I'm o-kay. Sad, yes, but more relieved that anything. Grandma was really suffering the last couple of weeks, and I'm glad it's ended.

Milestones

Apr. 20th, 2008 11:08 am
singerinthedark: (The ring)
I am now the owner of a "mystic blue" (that's deep blue, but not quite midnight blue for us laypeople) 2008 Ford Focus.

While cleaning out my old car, Madeline, it occurred to me how much time I've spent in her. (This wasn't just because of the accumulation of junk I had in the car.) I learned to drive in her. I hit a sapling in her while learning to drive. She took me to Matt's bedside. She drove me back and forth from the Bay Area to Davis when I couldn't figure out what to do with myself and was living in both places at once. She's been to a couple of fairs and at least one memorable road trip.

Yeah, I cried a little. It was the good kind of crying. This was another milestone for letting go. And while last night I felt a little odd, today I feel a little more free.

Pictures to come.
singerinthedark: (Matthew Looking out)
I broke down today. I didn't realize how much it might worry me that a friend might take up motorcycle riding. It wasn't too long ago that I felt like I should get a class M. license myself. But, when two friend both pranked LJ about learning to ride, well...

Let's say I couldn't tell you what we went over in my credential class today. Let' also say that, when I finally got it into my head that I should voice my concerns to one of these two friends, they told me it was an April Fool's joke.

I hung up on him. I was angry and hurt and needed to start breathing again.

It was a dumb reaction to a simple prank. Intellectually, I knew that a)if said person wanted to ride, I wasn't going to stop him, b)it wasn't intended to freak me out, and c)there was no reason that such a prank should freak me out. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I knew I was overreacting, but couldn't convince my brain to stop.

As I left campus, I started sobbing. I realized part of what was wrong: while I am prepared for my grandmother' death, I would be an utter wreck if one more of my good friends died suddenly. I don't want to be the last one standing. Instead of continuing to sob and potentially cause a wreck, I got a hold of myself and drove over to Dearbhail and [livejournal.com profile] ribbin's place for hugs and chamomile tea.

After hugs and during tea, [livejournal.com profile] ribbin brought up an interesting point, one that I've been mulling over most of this evening. He said, "when I heard you on the phone, I thought, 'She's not quite through with him yet." [That's paraphrased. Feel free to correct me.] He went on to mention how vehemently I've been saying that I'm over Matt. The unspoken inference was that I am denying too much - masking how I really feel.

The truth is no, I'm not completely over him. No matter how much I profess to be moving on and to have had closure, I still ache from his loss. That ache will always be there. Nothing will take away the trauma of watching my other half die. Nothing. I will always worry when friends talk about getting their class M license. I will always have a fear of late-night calls and the sickly-sweet smell of the injured in a hospital room. Heaven help the man who can keep me long enough to move in with me; it will take a long time for me to settle into being able to sleep restfully when he's away from my bed.

But, I am at a point where I feel I have enough room in my heart for someone new. Maybe not a relationship just yet, but there's room for love to grow. Dating is not something I have to do to prove to myself that I'm normal - it's something I want to do to make a little room for something new.

I can live with pain. That doesn't mean it won't get to me from time to time.

And please, no more motorcycle pranks for a while. Apparently I can't handle it.

Enjoy!

Mar. 10th, 2008 03:36 pm
Re-posted with thanks to [livejournal.com profile] crystal_rfox.

Growth

Feb. 28th, 2008 09:30 pm
singerinthedark: (Matthew Looking out)
March 7th is coming up. This year makes three years since I kissed Matt goodbye. It feels like a lifetime ago...

I was talking with Dearbhail and [livejournal.com profile] ribbin last night, saying how this is not my favorite time of year. As I was talking about dreading March 7th, I realized that it almost felt like an act at this point - like I was dreading something because I am supposed to dread it. I was anticipating being a wreck, but this year just doesn't phase me. Three years and a lifetime ago I was in love. And now:

Oh, goddess! I still miss him. Sometimes his place in my heart still aches from the loss. I don't think I'll ever really get over that ache, but I don't feel like I'm bleeding to death anymore. I don't feel like the void is going to swallow me up. There's just an empty place where Matt should physically be. In a way, with all the death I've lived through, my life is starting to resemble Swiss cheese - lots of holes where one would expect substance.

I like my Swiss cheese life. I have been fortunate to know and love many, many wonderful people. I will always miss those people, but I can't cry for them anymore. You can't miss what you haven't really lost.

I haven't lost him, but I'm not Matt's girl anymore. You can't cheat on the dead. Love is partially based on the instinctual urge to mate. It's gooey, corporeal, visceral stuff. It's blood and flesh and mingling fluids. Yes, that's right. I said mingling fluids. That's not to say you can't love the dead. I do love him, but it's not the same. I just can't live my life waiting for the wedding that never came, the life that died on the vine. I want to get out and try to find a piece of that visceral, gooey happiness again.

Watching "Practical Magic" last night, it struck me how much I have always related to the character Sally Owens. I saw myself in her long before Matt ever walked into my life. However, unlike Sally, I know that there's something else out there for me. He's the King of Swords. (Tarot geek, me? Nah!) He's the prince in a dream I had. He's the promise to be kept. Some days I am afraid that he's just the carrot dangled at me so that I'll keep going. Other days I'm just certain he's out there...

I'm not counting my eggs. I have no illusions that I need to grow a little more, let go a little more, and stretch a little more before we'll actually find each other.

So where to next? Well, I'm going to shred Matt's old robe. Then, I am going to work on coming to terms with the fact that I am an adult, and I get to figure out what that means to me. I'm going to figure out how to make sure that I'm taking care of my own needs so that I don't burn out as a new teacher. I am going to delve deeper into my spirituality, practice my energy work, and work on really getting a good barrier between me and the world that I can throw up at will. (I think this will help with the craziness of dealing with pre-teen angst.) And you know what? I am finally going to organize my CD collection so that it feels like all my stuff, not the stuff that was Matt's, the stuff that is mine, and the stuff that was ours. Oh yeah, and somewhere in the next couple months I'm buying a car.

It's going to be an interesting few months.
re-posted for those of you who do not have [livejournal.com profile] phantomdancer friended.

This rocks! As a music geek/singer this made me go *squee!*

These gave me the giggles:

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Battymaiden sent to me...
Twelve elissalis swimming
Eleven psmtthenardiers writing
Ten terpsichoros a-crafting
Nine friends backpacking
Eight mysteries a-reading
Seven books a-teaching
Six mouths a-hiking
Five adve-e-e-entures
Four words
Three merrie pryanksters
Two role-playing games
...and a love in an ecology.
Get your own Twelve Days:


In 2008, Battymaiden resolves to...
Take evening classes in tarot.
Go to nature every Sunday.
Give some words to charity.
Overcome my secret fear of books.
Start a guitar fund.
Backup my sci-fi regularly.






Get your own New Year's Resolutions:
Drove up to Yreka, CA on Wednesday with my Dad and siblings. Mom had an unchangeable flight out to Chicago for work on Friday, and so could not have Thanksgiving with us for the first time, well, ever. It was sad.

Thursday - Saturday Morning was mostly spent at my aunt and uncle's cattle ranch. They have an amazing small set-up. Their cows are natural - they are grass fed, have lots of room to roam, are well-taken care of, and only get antibiotics when the cows are sick, not as a preventative measure. It was neat to hear all of my uncle's stories about why he started the ranch, how he runs it, why he is a natural farmer vs. an organic farmer, and about things that have happened to him as he learned the trade.

Friday we went out to some forest land that a friend of my uncle owns to cut Christmas trees. It's kept mostly pristine, though parts of it are harvested for lumber in a (7-year?) cycle to pay for land tax and such. We cut trees, sat around a bonfire, talked, ate minestrone soup, and generally spent most of the daylight hours in the prettiest country-side you ever could have seen. Did I mention it was cold? Yeah, it was 65 degrees in the sun - maybe. Probably more like 50 degrees, which was warm compared to the evening's 15 degrees. I have a dead tree that will probably make it to my apartment sometime this week. Yea tree!

Got home late Saturday night.

Today I have (Inhales):Mostly here to remind myself that I've done more than I think I have. )

Update

Nov. 3rd, 2007 09:16 pm
Grandma is downright chipper. She says she's got her house in order, and all she wants to do is go home so that she can play bridge with her friends. I mean, if you didn't know that her blood pressure was all wonky, she had come in to get a blood transfusion, and that her kidneys weren't doing so well, you'd say she was a moderately healthy old lady.

The doctor gave my Grandma a more long-term prognosis than we'd thought. He said months to a year, and not the dire news we'd expected. Now whether this is doctor b.s. just to make sure she lives her last days as she'd like or the honest-to-God truth is irrelevant. It sounds like, perhaps, we might have her for at least one more Thanksgiving.

All I really care about is that she seems content, she's not in any pain whatsoever, and is thoroughly enjoying the attention her last days are getting her.


edit: It was a cool name. It just won't display. It's been long enough I can't remember all of it, but it was Mad Mary (something-er-other) Grrrr...

Jobbiness

Aug. 23rd, 2007 05:59 pm
I. Hate. Applying. For. Jobs.

I think that the application process for teachers is distinctly designed to discourage people from applying. I have six different applications for six different districts/organizations. Only one uses the EdJoin application, and that's the one I was hoping not to intern in (Oakland - I just want to intern at a mostly functioning school. I can tilt at windmills after I get the skills to be an effective teacher.) Three of the remaining are their own online entities (I HATE filling in online forms - even when it's just cut and paste). The others are print only applications, of which I need to call about turning in certain forms as an intern, or not turning them in, as the case may be.

*Sigh* I want a magic wand of application-filling. I want one of "letter of interest" writing, too.

The only thing motivating me right now is the fact that most schools start on Monday and my basic needs cannot be met with just my financial aid.
borrowed from Satyr and Serendipity:

Pay It Forward : I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment here on my LJ. I don’t know what that gift will be yet, but you will receive it within 365 days of this post.

The only thing you have to do in return is "pay it forward" by making a similar agreement on your blog.

P.S. if you have already posted this Meme in your blog than you have to choose the next 3 people who responded to your original post and send them a handmade gift too. :P

If you live a long way away, you'll have to provide your mailing address, ok?
singerinthedark: (Sleepy Me)
Deeply satisfying.

(Finished it faster than I thought I would...)

Meme

Jul. 8th, 2007 05:34 pm
singerinthedark: (Sleepy Me)
Three names you go by:
1. Teryn
2. Emma (faire name)
3. Her grand High Muckety-Muck Childlike Empress of the Whimsies

Three Parts of Your Heritage
1. Bohemian (possibly Romani)
2. Slavic (possibly from the Ukraine, but the borders have changed so much)
3. Old-west sheriff

Three Things That Scare You
1. Fundamentalists
2. The idea of ever getting the kind of brain damage where I'm fully aware but unable to communicate with the outside world
3. Bugs that dive-bomb my face. Ick.

Three of Your Everyday Essentials
1. Music
2. Some sort of bag with stuff in it (half of which I never use while I have it with me)
3. Breathing

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now
1. Underwear
2. Red shirt with gold stars that looks like a halter and a short-sleeved hoodie, but isn't really either.
3. Jean skirt with built-in shorts

Three of Your Favorite Bands or Musical Artists:
1. Pearl Jam
2. Tool
3. Dead Can Dance

Three Things You Want in a Relationship (other than Real Love)
1. Physical intimacy with low P.D.A. but plenty of fire.
2. A guy who is both in good enough shape and willing when I get a wild idea to go exploring all day with nothing but a power bar and a bottle of water, and who won't whine too much while we're out there. Bonus points for a guy who also gets wild ideas for adventures.
3. Someone who still has a sense of wonder with the world, or at least won't roll his eyes at me when I shout "OOoooOOOH! Lookie! A lizard!"

Physical characteristics that appeal to you
1. Proportional. Soft is fine as long as he meets criteria #2 above.
2. Good mouth. I know I can date someone if I think I can kiss their mouth. (Weird, but it's worked so far.)
3. Long hair. It's not a necessary characteristic, but I am definitely attracted to it.

Three of Your Favorite Hobbies
1. Music
2. Exploring wild places
3. Dance

Three Things You want to do really badly right now
1. Be kissed properly and by someone who knows how.
2. Finish my work
3. Take a shower.

Three Places You Want to go on Vacation
1. Venice
2. Machu Picchu
3. The rainforest

Three Things You Want to Do/Be Before You Die
1. Visit everywhere on the previous list
2. Learn more than two languages
3. Be a positive force for good in the universe

Three Ways that you are stereotypically a boy/girl
1. I worry about my weight/appearance - and am on a diet.
2. Certain insects can cause me to run out of the room squealing (like when cockroaches fly).
3. I have been known to have "nothing to wear" 5 minutes before I am supposed to leave for an event, and get upset about it. This inevitably makes me late.

Three Ways that you are NOT stereotypically a boy/girl
1. Once the sqealing is over, 9 times out of 10 I go back in there and kill my own damn bug.
2. I have handled, and am willing to handle, some pretty disgusting things. In fact, I like getting dirty in the outdoors.
3. I can power through just about any injury when I put my mind to it. It's a matter of keeping myself from panicking. (I went back to school two days after I had been hit by a car in high school. I was out of school the rest of the week, but I was damn determined to be there that one day.)

Why yes,

Jul. 2nd, 2007 11:02 pm


I am a huge Eddie Izzard fan. How could you tell?


Lovingly ripped off from [livejournal.com profile] lolgaimans.

A meme...

Jun. 21st, 2007 04:17 pm
... because I need a break from writing my personal statement for a scholarship. (I can talk about myself a lot when it doesn't matter, but when it does, I'm never sure what to say...)

1. My username is _____ because ____.
2. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
3. My subtitle is ____ because ____.
4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.

1. My username is Battymaiden because it was my nickname when Matt and I would play Civilization or Heroes of Might and Magic. He was Nyarlathotep until I dubbed him the Brooding Hippie, and I was the Childlike Empress until I dubbed myself the Battymaiden. I kept it for this journal because I thought it fit my mental state after he died, and now I just think it fits my general outlook on life.

2. My journal is titled "Journal of a Batty Maiden" because I am not as rambly as I used to be and that's what this my journal is - a journal.

3. My subtitle is nothing because I can't come up with anything clever right now.

4. My friends page is called "Muttering in the Asylum" because we are *all* mad here.

5. My default userpic is the axelbird because it is the pictographical representation of my innermost me.

...

I'm feeling very childlike and silly today, as you can tell.
I don't know whether I want to laugh or cry...

Please read this before reading this post.

This will be my last post. I don't know what will become of me, or of the human race. All I know is that it would be near pitch black outside, if the world weren't burning.

Things were quiet here until about two hours ago. That's when the zombies managed to breach the blockade at the tube. Thousands of them. I can only hope my parents weren't caught in the surge...

Our fortress here has held up so far, but I can hear them trying to push through. We're going to torch the place and get out the fire escape. That, too, has its risks. There are a lot of them outside. Women. Kids. The kids are the worst. Young faces with soulless eyes.

And all through the neighborhood, all you can hear is sirens, gunshots, and screaming. The screaming always gets cut off.

I've got a backpack and enough supplies to make it for a few days without having to scrounge. I can make it to the Stone Maze and [livejournal.com profile] ribbin if I don't sleep. From there I'll start looking for Bay Area survivers. Hopefully [livejournal.com profile] josh_summit and dearbhail will be among them.

It's funny. Remember how in grade school they'd ask you what you would save if there was a fire and you could only save one material posession? I used to say I'd save the blanket my great-grandmother knit me, but now... I'm taking my ring and a small photo album. It's all I can afford to carry. The blanket is far too heavy.

Shit, they've breached the downstairs blockade. Whoever reads this, whoever survives, know that you are not alone. There are others out there. We will survive. Don't lose hope. Find us. There is safety in numbers.

The Bay Area burns tonight. That's partly [livejournal.com profile] ribbin's fault. And now it will be partially mine.
Please click here before continuing to read this post.

I just heard from [livejournal.com profile] josh_summit. He's fine, but it may be that he is the last person left alive in Hayward. Things are worse than I thought. The carnage and sheer destruction he witnessed has left him raving mad. He is now utterly convinced that this is all just an elaborate livejournal hoax. I wish I weren't trapped on the this damned island. I'd try to get to him. I only hope he can hold out until I am able to get out of here.

There haven't been any more attacks on the house as of yet, though we've seen quite a few zombies shambling around the streets. The roar of sirens and the screaming have become like white noise, and we are starting to get used to the smell of burning houses and burning bodies.

I will continue to post until the power goes out or I am forced to leave. There must be a record.
Please click here before continuing to read this post.

The emergency sirens blared on the island. Jen quickly turned off the television and turned on the emergency station, AM 1290. The repeating broadcast, which is still looping for all to hear, runs like this:

This is a message from the Alameda Emergency Broadcast System. This is *not* a test. I repeat, this is *not* a test. Reports of animated corpses attacking living persons have been confirmed on the island. This is *not* a hoax. Authorities ask that all living persons barraiade themselves indoors until further notice. Authorities will be blocking the Webster and Posey tubes and lifting the drawbridges. People will not be allowed to enter or leave the island. This is *not* a test.

We had listened to this message twice when we heard it. A low moaning coming from outside. Jen stuck her head out the fire escape to see what was going on. When she pulled her head back inside, she was pale. "They're downstairs," she muttered. "About 5 of them." That's when the banging started.

Thinking quickly, I had everyone grab anything that could be used as a weapon - heavy pans, large objects, baseball bats, anything. The window on the front door of the complex broke with a resounding crash. The undead had made it into the building.

I will pause here to mention that the front door of my part of the complex is actually the second story of an old Victorian-esque home reachable by a large wooden staircase that is build over the door to the first-floor apartments. Goddess help our neighbors who lived on the first floor.

As those of us with enough bravery (or stupidity) charged ahead to fight off the small invasion, I yelled at the others to try to go for the head. It would either stop them or at least make it harder for them to attack. Those things are vicious. I narrowly escaped being bitten twice as I fought them off, though one managed to scratch my arm. I have since removed some of the flesh surrounding the wound and soaked it in Bactine. It still throbs. I hope I'm not infected.

The most frightening thing is that, though they looked human and quite fresh despite a few obvious wounds, there was nothing human about those eyes. They were blank, unfocused, un-dilating, emotionless eyes. It was like looking into a mirror in the near dark - nothing to see but the shadow of your own reflection. Before I knew it, we had dismembered them all. Luckily, we all escaped with minor wounds. No one was bitten - that time. Two of my neighbors volunteered to check in on our first-floor neighbors, as there were no more undead in sight. Our neighbors downstairs, those that were home, had been ravaged and were themselves shambling about in a daze. We lost two men fighting them off.

We took the dismembered pieces of zombie into the backyard and started a pyre in the dirt. One of the hands twitched as I picked it up. It still felt alive. I can't say I was sorry to throw it on the fire.

Those who were too scared to leave the building walked around to all of apartments and started to gather necessary supplies - filling buckets with fresh water and gathering both perishable and non-perishable items. It was decided that we would camp out on the top floor and barricade the doors downstairs as well as the top of the stairway. At least then we could use the stairs to our advantage. Our landlord took charge of building the barracade. Myself and one other watched the fire to make sure it burned thoughoughly.

Once the barracades were up, the waiting began. The police and fire departments were having a relatively easy time controlling the zombie outbreak in Alameda, owing to our not having a proper cemetary on the island. We could hear sirens and some commotion coming from the direction of Park St., but little else.

I heard from my family an hour ago. They are unable to get to the island because of the barracade. We set up a meeting place outside of the Bay. I also was able to get ahold of [livejournal.com profile] ribbin. He is heading for the hills and setting fires as he goes. I tried to talk him out of it, as he'll burn the innocent and the dead, but it is sounding more and more like there is only the dead. Still no word from dearbhail and [livejournal.com profile] josh_summit.

The wound I recieved in the fight is burning. I'd be tempted to removed the whole arm, but we'll see how things go. I'm sure that my neighbors will do what is necessary if the time comes.

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August 2010

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