Itami

Sorry I've been a shit blogfriend over the last while. I'll try to be better.

There is a huge pit of pain in my chest and it's been a full-time job trying to stay out of it.

Work hasn't helped much.

When I handed in my medical certificate for the two days off I told Buttinski it was because I haven't been able to take the on-shift breaks to do exercises that the physio advised.

She claimed I dan't told her and that she knew nothing about the accident.

I know I didn't hallucinate the conversation where we talked motorbikes and the accident and she implied the whole thing was MY fault for not wearing high-vis.

Unfortunately the only way I know to deal with the entire situation that is in any way remotely 'healthy' is to run screaming so deep into distraction-aided denial that when the protective walls eventually break and crumble the monsters I've been avoiding are bigger and nastier than they were to begin with.

I had hoped that the two days off work on Monday and Tuesday would let me get my feet under myself enough to keep from being flattened, but that didn't work.

Miles had designated those two days for working on Folk Festival stuff, so instead of 'me-time' I got an extra 2 days of dealing with people and having Miles watch me all the fucking time.

And now he's gone all touchy-feely and clingy which is making things WORSE.

When I try to ask him to please NOT he gets all sulky and mopey because he STILL DOESN'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND.

The person who was renting his place got arrested, so he's over there cleaning the place up today.

I'm trying to vent with controlled crying sessions so that if I get interrupted it's not too bad.

I can just say I re-watched a horrible episode of Doctor Who or something.

I just want other people to not be around so I don't have to constantly be on guard and monitor myself and not be watched all the time.

I just want it to stop fucking hurting.

It won't.

It never will as long as I'm alive.

I will be able to forget it for a time, but it always comes back.

Cancer would be preferable.

At least normal people don't quite blame you for getting cancer.

Yet.

Turning old clothes and skungy old sheets into winter motorbike covers, and came across some of Grandpa's thermals and PJs that were bought during his last year, when he was in the Old Folk's home.

They still smell like him.

Like 'safe' and 'cared for' and 'fed' and 'loved'.

I can't use them right now.

I just can't.

Little things rip my heart out over and over again and I can't continue to function around it AND put on a face for others at the same time.

Let me run away into the mountains for the winter so I make it past Christmas.

~Peri

The doctor weighed me without warning.

I have 2 days off work.

Right now it feels like I'm wrestling a greased anaconda and Buttinski keeps hitting me with a stick.

Snow and hail today.

I swear to fuck if I have to frog this mitten cuff ONE MORE TIME I'm burning the yarn.

~Peri

Family Gossip

Ok, so this is the Family Gossip I promised.

Youngest Bro has moved out of the Parental Units' place, and Dropkick Bro has moved in with them instead.

Kinda glad they're not co-habitating, after the last time they got into a punch-up.

When I talked with Dad last week he was singing the praises of Dropkick Bro's choice in Polytech courses, how it's doing wonders for him and he's really turned over a new leaf and turning his life around.

After having my Baby Brother turn around and steal from me and try to bash me, I'm naturally more cynical.

And we've seen this before.

When Sia got pregnant.

And again when HopeSpawn was born.

Fatherhood changed him. Becoming a Dad was the best thing that could happen to him. It's the hard wake-up call he needed. He's really getting his life on track.

Be the time she was four he was going through hundreds of dollars of weed a week.

Ultimately he chose drugs over his kids.

He places more value on getting high than on the young lives he started to destroy.

Just like Mum.

I'm so glad Sia has full custody.

When I talk to Dropkick he acts EXACTLY the same way Kirk did when he was high as a kite and coming up with all these grandiose plans about starting a business, patenting inventions, doing a sponsored walk with a big wild grin on his face and a hard manic gleam in his eye.

Even though you know they're full of shit you can't help by hope this time they're actually going to do it.

Oh yeah: I finally out what happened to Kirk.

That sponsored walk he was doing to raise money for charity?

He took the money people had given him ran with it all the way back up North.

Jaq was the last person he was in contact with, and even she hasn't heard from him in months.

Probably because he still owes her several hundred dollars in rent :/

For now, while Dropkick Bro gets to pull a Student Loan and only show up to class on days they do rock climbing and kayaking, things will be all sunshine and daffodils.

When it comes time for exams, we'll see if he's actually in this for real.

Yes, I sound like a cold bitch.

I mourned the death of my baby brother years ago.

The boy I hid behind the couch with, wrestled with, walked to school and protected from Mum's rages is dead.

In his place I got another angry, violent, unpredictable druggie who hurls abuse at me and has said on many occasions he'd be quite happy to see me dead.

I'll never get my baby brother back and part of me feels like it's my fault, because I couldn't protect them both. I couldn't save them from Mum.

When we were having tea Dad said that he felt like Dropkick Bro could never get a handle on life. I contemplated asking him if he knew what Mum did to us when he wasn't there, but I've been gaslit on it so often that it takes an effort to realize that yes it was real and no it wasn't normal.

After one failed run-away attempt and one failed suicide attempt I kept my head down and lived in books until I could escape from them.

There are huge holes in my memory that I don't ever want filled. What I do remember is bad enough.

Dropkick Bro obviously turned to drugs to deal.

He's turning into a half-arsed copy of Mum and THAT is what fucks me off.

Speaking of Mum, I did manage to socialise with her briefly on Saturday without ripping her face off.

I made the mistake of letting her cut my hair while stoned off her tits to avoid one of her tantrums.

NEVER AGAIN.

She brushed it straight down my back and cut unevenly across at shoulderblade-height.

Six inches gone and it looks like it was done with a weedeater.

Chatterbox nearly cried when she saw it and Jaq was mortified.

She is half-trained as a hairdresser and has been cutting hair for friends and family for decades. This has NEVER happened before!

I can't even look at it. I'm going to ask Lia if she can fix it up for me. I don't care if I have to babysit her spawns for a week so long as she fixes it.

Every time I see the utter dogs breakfast she made of my hair I want to cry.

At least I don't have to look at it very often.

Oh yeah, I started playing Candy Crush out of morbid curiosity.

The game designers picked all the key elements of addictive first-person games, threw them on an interesting twist on your traditional match-three puzzler setup and seasoned it the fucking frustrating cockblocking you get from Facebook's pay-to-plays. (I'm Vienn Peridot. Will send you lives)

So basically it's the kind of game I'll dabble in for a few weeks then get really frustrated with and give up on.

Ok, bedtime.

~Peri

I Survived The Zombie Apocalypse

Vlogging it for you.



ODT article Link. That is my first group of wood-ducks right there ^.^

May or may not be me in the background.

The Gasping Slugs also got pics up on the Facebook Page.

Someone's Picasa Album.

Me and my first group of Wood-ducks

Yes. I ran in my gardening jeans.

I'm not fucking galloping through the bush in spandex leggings. I like having my skin in one piece!

THIS GUY WAS FUCKING TERRIFYING AND I HAD NO PACK TO RUN WITH.

AND THEN I WENT AND MADE HIM ANGRY.

BECAUSE I'M A FUCKING DUMBASS.

RUN SLUGS, RUN!

This particular zombie.

The redhead.

Holy shit.

I've never wanted a zombie to rip my clothes off and ravish me before. Was it the intense stare? The snarling? The I-will-have-your-submission,-my-slave vibe she was putting out? I don't know, but I liked it in a terrified and definitely turned-on kind of way.

Yes, oh fuck yes I would submit to her

By the time I met this one I was sweating so much I don't know if I peed myself a little when he staggered out from behind the fence.

I'm going to re-head my wheatbag now. My legs are fucking sore.

Fucking Ross Creek. Fucking hills.

20/10, AM SO DOING THIS AGAIN

~Peri

Recap of Events

Most of this week has disappeared into a haze of work and pain.

The trip to pick up the Savage was a fucking endurance test.

On the way up I was pillion ballast behind Dad on his Harley.

It makes a truly obnoxious level of noise because he removed the baffles from the exhaust.

Earplugs are essential equipment on that bike.

My ass was killing me before we hit Timaru.

The ride back was an utter nightmare of cold, pain and the usual stunning BOREDOM of the Canterbury Plains.

I swear my brain was actually running little circles around the inside of my skull and yipping at one point, before it tried to shut down.

That wasn't cool.

Despite wearing polar fleece pants, wool socks, lambswool turtleneck, fingerless gloves, polarfleece cowl/scarf beast, gloves, helmet and big red Michelin Man suit I was STILL fucking cold enough to lose bloodflow to my hands for most of the trip back.

Dad (The swanky bastard) has heated handgrips, fucking electric pants to keep himself warm and a windshield to cut the wind.

Just. . . UGH, FUCK YOU.

Poncy git.

Holy shit but having the ability to actually overtake landcrabs on the motorway is SO FUCKING WORTH IT.

OUTTA MY WAY, BITCHES!!!

Thursday was an agony of sore muscles.

Not just my poor mangled ass.

I shit you not, every single major muscle group was sore.

Some still are, but hot baths and gentle stretching and lizarding in the sun helped.

I didn't want to go to MHS on Friday, so I kinda sorta mighta bullshat a bit.

I mean; I went. I just lead Kerys a little dance of "Oh look at how well Peri is doing! Yay another successful cure!"

Didn't mention the nightmares, lied through my teeth when the subject of training came up (You're not doing this for your weight, are you? Oh hell no! I'm doing it to get stronger), skipped neatly around how shitty sleep has been and shone the biggest floodlight I could on the 'positive' steps I'm taking regarding the situation at work and the one with the Maternal Unit.

I gave Kerys a little subtle hint about what I was doing\ when she said that writing the letter to Human Resources might be "emotional" for me.

"I'm going to take the 'clinical essay' tone instead of the 'emotional hysteria' one. I know how to manipulate my audience."

I 'Officially' know about the situation with Mum and Glamour Nana now.

Dad told me when we were having dinner in Oamaru.

I fucking well TOLD him that I had been the one to tell Glamour Nana that Nana.M had died, and that she WOULD have sent a card.

Dad reckons that since nothing arrived; nothing was sent.

WITH EXAMPLES I reminded him that the post at that point in time was still fucked up and that several things Uncle.B sent to Glamour Nana never made it through, so it is entirely plausible that a simple card wouldn't have made it out of Canterbury.

He seems to have taken Mum's side in this.

I can't go round and sponge off their hot water for hot soaks, no matter how much I ache.

I just can't fucking deal with Mum's shit right now.

The instant she says one word about it I will have a go about her appalling and immature behaviour regarding the whole fiasco.

Giving someone the silent treatment for years with no explanation, then verbally abusing them when they had NO IDEA what was going on is fucking pathetic.

Knowing my mother I wouldn't put it past her to have thrown the card out and not told anyone it arrived.

It seems my patient work of carrying a small knitting project wherever I go and working on it in downtime has paid off.

After seeing me sitting in the waiting room working on various projects for the last year-and-a-bit, one of the receptionists at MHS has taken up knitting.

Today she very excitedly showed off her first ever handknitted hat, so I fangirled appropriately.

I put her on to Ravelry, and she will be looking up a pattern for her next beanie project on Rav.

Lol, another convert to the fiber crafts.

I'm just that good.

~Peri

What Is This Place?

Got a heads-up from Chatterbox on Sunday night that Buttinski "might have to have a word with me" about "always taking Tuesdays off".

Game on, bitches.

I cross-checked my own records against what has been made in the "Communications Book" regarding my sick days for the last 3 months.

Only 2 of them are Tuesdays. They were over 4 weeks apart.

Game

Fucking

ON.

Have preemptively polished an opener so I don't freeze up and let myself be abused the way I'm trained to. (Thanks for nothing, Mum.)

"[Buttinski], we all know what your memory is like. I'd like to see what evidence you have for making these allegations."

Jeri didn't say hello to me today, despite LOUDLY greeting everyone else. I figured out what was going on and giggled to myself as she didn't say a single word to me and blatantly ignored anything I said to her for six straight hours.

Then  BOOM! suddenly she was all buddy-buddy about how she was going to work my Saturday.

I told her the leave form has been up there for over a month and Buttinski's really left it to the last minute to get cover.

I really need to make an Infographic for "How to know when Jeri has fucked you Over"

XD

Hmm 'Legal Highs' are no longer legal in Dunners and some of the Low Bloodpressure and Brainspaz Funtimes I had to deal with today resemble some of the withdrawal symptoms.

If that little maggot starts spreading shit about me being on drugs the same what she spread shit about someone else supposedly being on Meth I WILL FUCKING SKIN HER.

There will be Slander charges and a Personal Grievance laid so fast her skinny ass will implode.

GOOD BIKE NEWS

Going to Christchurch on Wednesday to pick it up.

This means leaving at 0800 and riding 700km total to be back in town before dark on Wednesday night.

5 hours each way may not seem like much to those who hail from Canadia or Continental 'Murrica, but it's a fairly large chunk of the country for us Kiwis.

SHITTY SEGUE TIME!

The Feelers come from Chch.

If you miss 90s soft-rock and lazy afternoon nostalgia grunge you might like them. Most of their stuff just makes me mopey but I adore 'Larger Than Life'





I'm going to rewatch the Battle of Blackwater Bay and go to bed.

~Peri

Rage. Rage Everywhere.

I am so far beyond fed up with Buttinski McBitchtits' games it's not funny.

It started with a conversation about tattoos, sparked by the Uniform Policy.

As of 2012 ours allows us to have tattoos visible so long as they aren't offensive in nature. (Eg. Nudity, gang signs, facial tattoos that aren't moko)

Buttinski said she found all tattoos offensive and that they shouldn't hire anyone with them.

I bit -.-;

I asked what she thought of our coworkers tattoos *Cites examples people with family members' names*

Those are 'cute' so they're fine. . .

So what about gang signs and swastika?

I shit you not, she went into some fucking half-cocked Nazi Apologist spiel about how she doesn't find them offensive because the people obviously got them "for personal reasons".

WHAT

THE

ACTUAL

BLEEDING

FUCK?!

I pointed out that the Swastika is the most widely recognized symbol of white supremacist assholes and the biggest fuck-off genocide in modern history.

Nope, she's still not offended.

Because personal reasons.

Her genius rebuttal was that TweedleEvil's English Rose could be just as offensive as a Swastika. . . If you were say, Irish.

Sorry Ruby, I laughed in her face and said you're infinitely more likely to get the bash in Ireland for being of the wrong religion or supporting the opposing sports team than for having a fucking English Rose tattoo.

I didn't say a fucking word to her for about an hour after that, trying to wrap my head around what I had just heard. Was her brain even engaged when she said that?!

It continued when she eavesdropped on a conversation I was having with ButcheryChick in the staffroom and brought it up when we were back in the Deli.

Bitch, it's none of your fucking business.

What REALLY fucked me off next was seeing her mark down stock that was 2 months past it's use-by date.

For staff.

Marking it down 90%?!?

That large a markdown -ESPECIALLY WHEN DONE SPECIFICALLY FOR STAFF- counts as theft.

Doesn't matter HOW far out of date it is.

(For the curious: It was a dozen or so boxes of expensive crackers that don't sell very well.)

Eventually she threw them in the skip and left the bloody thing open. This is a great big neon-lit invitation to seagulls and dumpster divers. (Seagulls are messier)

THE SKIP IS SUPPOSED TO BE KEPT LOCKED AT ALL TIMES.

I don't understand why anyone would want to go through our skip, though. All the expired stuff is covered in blood and liquid-hot chicken fat.

It's utterly beyond me.

What finally tore it was when I was explaining Spoon Theory and the extension of Social Spoons to Crystal (Our new transfer from up north).

Once again, Buttinski eavesdropped.

Then she had a go at me about working in a customer service department, asking why I wasn't working in Nightfiill and insinuating that I should transfer.

My employment choices of nine years ago are none of your fucking concern.

If they were, I would have discussed them with you.

I kindly explained the 'Customer Service' face I put on and that when I was hired I couldn't exactly work the old Nightfill hours of 10pm to 5,6,7am and then go to class from 8am-7pm.

Since she had no decent way to reply (And she NEVER admits that she's been in the wrong. Her memory is a miracle of revisionism and selective recall.) instead she decided to lay into me about how she can tell the difference and that there is a "marked difference" between my customer service at the start of the shift and at the end and that it "wasn't acceptable".

Peri: By the end of the shift I'm in significant pain from my shoulder, I'm severely dehydrated and I've spent 8 hours working my ass off with people telling me my best isn't good enough. (*Also: Putting up with YOU*)

Buttinski: Well; that's understandable, but who says that? "I've never said that to you."

Oh my god I have no words for how hard it is not to lose my shit right now.

I'm just so utterly fucking done with her bullshit.

There will be a letter written and given to Human Resources.

If she gets the 2IC job there'll probably be a riot in the Deli or something.

IN OTHER NEWS:

Glamour Nana's knee replacement surgery has gone well.

Got some adorably misspelled texts from her. She's still pretty well doped on morphine right now.

Stoned Nana Texts. That could be a Memebase sub-site.

Despite being horribly tired I'm too scared to sleep.

The last three nights have been nonstop nightmares, including horrible ones of Mum shouting and D's hands cutting off blood and air while she stares me down and everyone eggs her on.

I've never dreamed about it before.

What the fuck has changed?!

Last night I tried to zopiclone myself so I would actually get some sleep, and ended up lying there fighting it for 2 hours because I was terrified of what dreams would come.

Danger. Running, hiding, fear. Stealth stealth stealth narrow escape.

At least it wasn't fighting off a horde of wights again with only a piss-tiny little gladius coz some fucking cunt ran off with my claymore right before the night got dangerous.

Beheading a thrashing ghoul with a gladius is a right pain in the ass.

It's about as bloody effective as felling a tree with a hatchet -.-;

So today's Kiwi Music is Salmonella Dub, best listened to while you have a nice hot milo and try not to think about scary things before bed.







~Peri

Motorbikes, Zombies And Lightsabers

Ok, the Flu Stab was definitely worse than the Cervical Smear.

The flu stab was painful, but less so than the Meningitis ones were.

I made the n00bish mistake of looking at the needle afterwards.

Nearly passed out sitting down, masked it putting my head between my knees by going for my bag and taking my time finding the drink bottle.

As for the smear, I was so distracted by how cool the new-generation speculum was that the awkwardness of being pants-less on the table with the nurse poking around my vadge was definitely lessened.

THEY HAVE A TORCH ATTACHMENT!

A BLUE-TINTED LED TORCH!

IT LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING LIGHTSABER!

I GOT STABBED IN THE CROTCH WITH A FUCKING LIGHTSABER!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

It has been 8 years since my last one, after all. Medical science doesn't fucking wait around. It's gotta stay at least 2 steps ahead of the foe at all times or we're fucked.

OH!

Since I've had bronchitis at least once in the past the Nurse able to file it under 'Respiratory Reasons' so I didn't have to pay for the stab.

The bike I looked at in Vietches was fucking SEXY. A bit taller and heftier than I'm used to but I'll still be able to move it around in the driveway.

I still hate singles though -.-;

The Trademe bike has an idling issue. That make apparently doesn't like to idle when the engine is hot.

Going to be researching about the issue and ways to circumvent it.

Fuck why didn't my school offer USEFUL shit like engineering instead of sodding 'Fabric Design'?!

Oh. Right.

All Girls School.

Because things like Classics and Engineering are not appropriate for girls Young Ladies.

The ONLY REASON there were boys in the Classics course offered at the neighbouring All Boys school was because 7th Formers from our school had to go over to theirs to take the class.

 Dierdre's daughter texted me back about the person she was lending the first dragon story to. Report was she thought is was good but needs tweaking (Tweaking?! More like a total overhaul!)

She said I would be able to talk to her at a Writer's Panel even on Saturday, but there is no way in hell I'm gonna be able to go.

Not only is cost an issue, but Jester has had to drop Saturday mornings.

His Ex lost custody of the kids. She's too fucked up on Legal Highs to be trusted to look after herself, let alone their kids. So he has full custody of all five until she gets clean.

Sooooooooo on Saturdays I'm now the only trained person until Chatterbox shows up at 2pm.

Add that to Buttinski McBitchtits playing favorites with time off and I'm fucked.

How do we know she's playing favourites?

Jeri and Buttinski are very buddy-buddy whenever they're on shift together. I'm never sure who is going to start humping whose leg :/

Jeri just had every Monday off for a month and is now getting Thursday off for 'Puppy School' for the next 6 weeks straight.

I've been waiting since the start of last month to hear about the 17th and 18th for the Zombie 5k.

Training for that has been going really shit, by the way.

I simply don't have the right gear to run in pissing rain, and I can't afford to get sick from running in early winter rain in improper clothes.

So I'm only on Week 3 of the Couch to 5K podcast when I should at least be on Week 5.

I feel fat, lazy and pathetic.

I wanted to do well, to be able to run 3/4s of the way without puking or passing out.

I'm not going to be able to that now and I hate myself for it.

Going to look like a flabby idiot in front of all my mates who went to NewStore AND HotTrainer PLUS her (Undoubtedly extremely fit and very hot) mates.

Never going to live down the humiliation.

Do it perfectly or don't do it at all.

Don't let anyone see you fail.

You have to be perfect.

FUCK.

This is supposed to be FUN. The kind of fun shit I got to do as a kid but am not allowed to do as an adult because climbing trees and playing in the dirt for the fun of it isn't "mature".

This is what I don't want to do in the morning:



Shut up Aradhna.

Let me sleep so I don't have to think.

~Peri

May?! NOPE. DO NOT WANT

I didn't go to work today.

It was a bad idea financially, but no matter how screwed I'm going to be next week I'm just completely unable to deal with Buttinski McBitchtits and Jeri right now.

I hate my brain.

Made you a Vlog after work last night.

Unlisted because insults and sheer stupidity.



The gif(s) I spoke of:

Today I planned to weed the garden and plant the flower seeds I germinated (They sprouted nicely) buuuuuuut I got sidetracked.

While pulling out strawberry runners I realised I had nearly a dozen potential strawberry plants in my grubby paws. And there was a great big empty vegetable patch I could plant them in. . .

If they all take I'm gonna have a shitload of strawberries this summer ^.^

While planting the strawberries I also ran across some remarkably lively garlic cloves which survived the Great Neglect.

Final count: About a dozen strawberry plants and a positively unholy amount of garlic.

I did manage to get some of the alyssum and cornflowers in. Then I found a spider and noped the fuck back inside.

Phobias. Not exactly rational.

NZ Music Month; Che Fu.

Something to chill out your Monday since you guys are well behind me in time.





Time for me to go mentally prepare myself for tomorrow.

A Pap Smear AND a flu stab.

Because why the fuck not make my morning utterly horrific?!

I have no idea which I dread more.

Needle torture VS Duck-billed obscenity.

Stabbed or Scraped?

Just close your eyes and think of motorbike shopping on Thursday

Nope, doesn't help.

~Peri

May The Fourth Be With You

My words are mostly gone.

Not enough sleep, endless frustration and rage at work.

If TempBoss McBitchtits gets 2IC we're fucked.

She plays favourites with the available empty shifts, passes the buck on her responsibilities and constantly fucks up orders so we run out of things on special.

She left some Devilled Beef in the cabinet for 5 days.

Sliced meat gets 2 days, tops.

I left a rather angry message about this in the Communications Book, her response was to say "I know you're passionate, but" I need to  "watch [my] tone" because "things like that [angry notes] upset people"

I am utterly, inexpressibly, completely furious.

She made a very unprofessional remark which I am writing an Official Complaint about.

I feel like I deserve some kind of reward for making it through the weekend without committing an assault or murdering someone.

Can't think of anything I want besides a million years of sleep.

Have a doubleshot of Blindspott for NZ Music Month.





I'm going to go watch cartoons and knit.

Because fuck life.

~Peri

Kicking Off NZ Music Month

WOOT NZ MUSIC MONTH!

You know what this means, right?!

I'm gonna post random Kiwi songs every other day or so.

Because music.

MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Gonna try to stick to shit that hasn't made it big offshore. The likes of Shihad and Lourde have already 'Made It' in that regard and good old Aotearoa has produced a bit more than that.

So lets go back to the 90's to start, shall we?

 Awww yeah.

~Peri

I made you a vlog on Monday.



Gonna try to make these things shorter. It's mainly me talking a lot of garbage anyway.

Have to go see Kerys today and try to explain 2 weeks of crap I've been successfully avoiding about thinking of until now.

Joker can't work Saturdays anymore. He has custody of his kids since his Ex-Wife is a junkie and the legal highs she's been smoking have fucked her up at lightspeed.

(Legal highs are fucking awful. Just fucking awful)

I'll be working with Bitchtits.

Please kill me.

~Peri