Tinhuviel Artanis

Voting day never fails to disappoint, demoralise, and de-motivate me. It's hard being a True Blue stuck in a staunch Red State. Voting seems like such a meaningless act when you know your vote is being canceled a thousandfold by herds of brainless Right Wing zombies. What's the point? Of course, that doesn't mean I don't vote. I still determinedly cast my ballot in desperation, hoping that, someday, my vote may actually count for something. I doubt it ever will here in South Carolina. The state is hopeless.

There's a cricket on our back porch. Its song is so loud, it's almost painful to the ear bones. If I remember correctly, crickets are supposed to be the bearers of good fortune. I could use a ton of that. Perhaps the cricket is foretelling a swift decision on my disability case. I should know about that by September of next year, or at least that's what the lawyer said. The cricket could be singing success with enthusiasm. That's my hope. Sing on, cricket! Sing on.

Aunt Tudi is talking about getting out the Christmas decorations. I responded typically which earned me my annual cognomen, The Grinch. Do I care? No. Aunt Tudi can celebrate and be festive all she wants to. I begrudge her nothing, just don't drag me into the fray. I'm not interested in $WINTERHOLIDAY. My reaction to the entire mess is a yawn at best, a dire glare and a few angry words at worst. I wish people would stop celebrating this holiday and send our controllers into a tailspin. Stop consuming like the good drones that you are and just say no, just for a year. What's it going to hurt to miss one year of so-called celebration? Happiness levels would go up and suicide rates go down the year the people refused to participate in the maze-running that is Christmas. I would bet anything I'm right. Too bad I'm in the minority, sort of like being a True Blue in a Red State. All I can say is bah humbug.

As of yesterday, I'm off the Zyprexa. It has made me gain an exorbitant amount of weight and doing nothing for my sleep, so I took my last pill on Sunday night. My sleep pattern is still screwy and I'm really not getting much sleep at all, especially now with a puppy that has a farmer's sleep schedule. I foresee me crashing from exhaustion soon, but I'm hoping I can get through this week before I give up the proverbial ghost for 24 hours, as I am wont to do after extended bouts of insomnia. I've got therapy tomorrow and Aunt Tudi has an MRI on Thursday. Friday is grocery day. I need to be able to function during all that and maybe I can succumb to the coming coma come Saturday.

Wow, an honest to goodness journal entry. I'm so proud.

I've gotten almost 2000 words down so far, and plan to write more because I'm keen on telling this part of the story. It's been a focal point for me for almost a decade now, but I've never told the full account of it. It's the tale in which Cadmus scalps Orphaeus Cygnus and, in The Chalice, it's told first person by Orphaeus himself. There are way too many odd coincidences about the Cadmus/Orphaeus relationship. Five years after creating Orphaeus and making him Cadmus' arch-nemesis, I stumbled upon B's trial website on which there was a link to a site called "The Head of Orpheus." Strange? Yes. Then I finally got to hear Illuminati's ne'er-released album, which featured a song called "Eurydice." All the songs were written by B, by the by. Oookay. Needless to say, I was fairly alarmed. Then, just recently, I was told about B's intense lack of enthusiasm for Danny Elfman, whose music helped to create Orphaeus.

Well. I would be lying if I didn't find all this insanely bizarre, enough so to make me bibble about and touch things just to make certain I'm still in reality, or at least my version of it.

Anyway, I broke the 100 page mark today and I'm keen on getting to at least 46500 words. I'm happy and petrified all at the same time.

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One thing I did not do today is go out in public. Todd was supposed to come over today so we could do something, but he bailed because he thinks he's gotten the flu. It may possibly be the Slobovian Death Plague. I guess it's for the best, but I still wish we could spend more time together before he heads back to Portland. I wasn't keen on getting out in the unholy mess that is Black Friday, though.

Why anyone would want to partake in this new tradition of holiday consumerism is beyond me. It's shit like this that turned me against the Winter horribledays in the first place. Aunt Tudi and I have just about decided not to do the gift thing with anyone this year. Everyone we know is in financial dire straits and, even though we aren't (yet ~ hopefully never), we don't want to make anyone feel bad by giving gifts to folks who can't reciprocate. I know it's not about that, but society has made it the underlying angst of the horribledays.

The only thing I like about the season is I get to drag out my big "Happy Hannukah" sweatshirt and wear it proudly for all the local yokels to ogle and wonder. Some have asked me if I'm Jewish. Well, yes, I am! The Mother Unit is Jewish, so that makes me Jewish. I tell them that my mom is Jewish and my dad is a Baptist so, naturally, I became a Pagan. What choice did I have? But I like to recognise Chanukah (I like that spelling better) in my own little way. I drag out the Klezmer music and sing along in Pigeon Yiddish. It's what I do.

As for the horribledays, I'll be glad when it's all over. Everything on the TV and radio is about Krimmus. I'm sick of it. When I was still in Quality Assurance, I was sick of the horribledays by the end of July, which is when all the new Krimmus albums are manufactured for public consumption starting in September. I had to listen to all of them. It truly was Christmas in July for me for many long years. It's the only thing I don't miss about QA.

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Aunt Tudi has a sleep study tomorrow night. I've invited Llew over to spend the night so I won't be alone and Aunt Tudi won't worry.

Instead of sleeping at the hospital like I had to when I had my sleep study, Aunt Tudi is getting a hotel room at the new Renaissance Marriott hotel in downtown Spartanburg. The hospital has a contract with the new hotel, which is the ultimate in luxury from what we've been told. So la-tee-damn-da for Aunt Tudi. I have to have her down there by 8:30 tomorrow night. Personally, I don't think they'll have to do the study to see if she has sleep apnea; rather, they need to do the test to see how many times she stops breathing thanks to her sleep apnea. I gaze into my crystal ball and foresee a C-PAP machine in Aunt Tudi's very near future. So it is written, so shall it be done.

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I would like to say that my friends list is comprised of some of the most attractive souls on Earth and I'm very honoured that you allow me to slum about on your journals. Just thought that should be said.

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In the next few days I want to write about Duke Scarpone. That man inspired so much unbridled lust and molten stirrings in my loins, I remember his name to this day. More on that later.

For now, it's time to get back to writing. This is the longest period of time ever that I've had Cadmus at the forefront of my mind and I'm actually more comfortable with him now that I've ever been. This does not bode well for my mental health.