Wednesday, October 25, 2017

I Was Out-Gothed So Hard

Gather ‘round, darklings, for it’s story time. Mama Bones’ gotta let this toner sit on my hair a spell so I’m a silvery platinum goth, not some golden-blonde normal person.
So I’m at the drug store with Bird and I’m buying last minute 50% off shit: black velvet fake stilleto nails, huge lashes, etc. Sahmain cometh, y’know? And I’m babbling about how much we love Halloween to the cashier.

I’ve seen her a lot here. Her ‘holler’ accent is mighty: It crushes my twang. That’s typical for these parts, but I admit that I’ve filed her in my mind as Sweet Older Country-Type Lady.

But y’all.

Heh. This woman... so, she tells me her fam is SUPER into it, too. They used to dress her brother as a scarecrow dummy and he’d be corpse-still until the perfect moment to spring up and scare the holy hillbilly Protestant JESUS out of trick-or-treat-ers. And their parents.
And probably some cats.
So she goes on to tell us they used to turn their lawn into a graveyard and she just casually as fuck drops the fact that her neighbors have a coffin they let her borrow, and even more stunningly casually she says, "They usually sleep in it," and blows right past that with no explanation whatsoever. There's no tone of joke delivery. Nothing at all to indicate that there is anything at all unusual about sleeping in a coffin. We finish our mutual celebration of Halloween anticipation and Birdy and I head to the car. 
Mollz says, "So I'm picturing 'What We Do in the Shadows'. You?"
I tell her "Yeah... or those goths that goth so hard they literally live like vampires."
We then in unison say, "What the fuh?" and "What the fuck?" and giggle all the way home.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Happy Gothtober!

You may remember my mentioning before that my friends at work mannnnyyy years ago and I always wore solid black on the first of October, to kick of what we insisted (I stand by this, obviously) was a month long High Holiday for Wiccans and general gothy witchy types.

Now I've seen that #Gothtober is a thing, and I rejoice.

So I went fucking crazy and did my regular platinum goth look and then a wardrobe/makeup change and popped on my new favorite wig. Also one contact lens, not in homage to the Weird Ass Uncle Marilyn of popgoth, but because I've weaponized my fingernails and I scratched one of the fucking lenses.

Can I tell you how much I love glitter tears?
Also NYX Stone Fox Liquid Lipstick.
Love that, too.

So hi, I'm back, and my nerves aren't attacking my skull every damn day.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

What Happened?

Where did the poems go?
Where have I been on Instagram/Facebook/Twitter?

I have been hiding in bed.

As you do.

I spun out into anxiety and some mild depression when some personal shit crashed down. Then I had a pain flare-up that has seriously grounded me. That triggers depression, understandably, so that mild depression slid into a fairly severe episode.

Happily, severe in my case doesn't mean I'm unsafe. I long ago learned that my SSRIs are not optional. As long as I'm steady on them I've never been in danger.

I'm fighting the stirrings of a migraine right now, which I'm afraid might be related to new, or rather worsening, spinal problems. When I saw a spinal and brain specialist years ago trying to diagnose my pain, he was surprised I didn't have migraines because of the location of a bulging disc in my neck.

I didn't then, but have started getting them semi-regularly. I'm also getting shooting nerve pain (like sciatica) in my arms and face, so my current neurologist is planning to CT scan my upper spine. I see him tomorrow. I'm anxious at the thought of having to address cervical vertebrae. Surgery on the neck is much scarier than the base of the spine.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, because my mood isn't quite levelled out yet.

So this is my 'Heidi is Alive & Coping-Ish But Don't Worry' post. And now? Back to bed. Glowing screen is becoming The Enemy.