OK, OK, so maybe not. I am still very much a beginner. But I think I am getting it. I have been having a blast trying out different things and getting them to work. I almost forgot to post because of all the work I have been doing. :LOL: Any of you using the Lara Croft skin might have noticed my little sidebar testing, that’s where I have been keeping everything for right now, but soon I will implement MOST of the new features, like random blog links and listing most recent comments, throughout the rest of the skins. Merci beaucoups to The Scripty Goddesses for their expertise and infinite patience with my “beginner’s bumblings.”
Today was a beautiful day. I didn’t get to enjoy too much of it, because I spent a total of 14 hours of my day watching other people’s children. You know, I have been discovering something about myself lately. I don’t really LIKE doing daycare. I mean, I love children, don’t get me wrong. I even love caring for them on occasion. But this is taking over my life. I don’t speak to any adults. I don’t even get to enjoy my OWN children. I know that most parents go through this when they go outside of the home to work, and perhaps I should just stop complaining, but I am at HOME, and I feel MORE burnt out then I did when I WAS going outside the home to work. This just doesn’t feel right to me.
I feel like people expect me to be at their beck and call to watch their children at any time, yet NO ONE has offered to watch MY children, or said yes to the total of TWO times in the past YEAR I have asked them to watch my kids. When do I get a break? I actually was asked to go out with the girls this coming Saturday, and I asked H, whose children I have watched after school just about every day for the past 4 years, plus done whatever little errands she asks or given her whatever thing I have in my house that she forgot to get at the store. All I want is for the kids to be able to fall asleep over there WHILE I AM STILL THERE, then I can go out for a few hours.
Her answer? “Well, we’ll see.” Basically, this is a “I don’t really feel like it.” I’ve been through this before. Her kids go to their father’s house every weekend, so she always has a break from them, and she can go out whenever she pleases. She is ALWAYS more tired than me, ALWAYS has done more than me, NEVER lets me get a word in edgewise. Yes, she works, and she works hard, and I admire her. But I think, in a way, she doens’t think much of me because I stay at home. And I am expected to ALWAYS be at home. She doesn’t even bother to call and see if I am home anymore before she sends the kids over to ask if she can borrow some coffee, or some eggs. And when I am not there, she leaves a message on my machine (“Tricia, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone!”) like I should have been there because she needed something. I mean, I love her to bits, and she does do things for me, but I just feel like she has put me into a role and there she expects me to stay. She even tells me not to leave C. Says I should just stay and not worry about him and let him pay the rent (which, by the way, he hasn’t even bothered paying this month yet). I think she tells me that so that I won’t go and leave her without a babysitter that she only pays $30 a week, and sometimes she “forgets” to give me that.
Holy cow. I didn’t mean for this to turn into such a ranting post. I guess I had more held inside than I thought. My main point was, really, that I just need a BREAK. I want to be able to go out with ADULTS, I want to HAVE friends and not be made to feel guilty because I am not doing something for someone else at all times, I want to sit down and sip my coffee without someone hanging off my leg screaming, or throwing a paper football into my cup. Is this NEVER going to be a possibility for me? I am not sure I can survive. I feel like the most horribly selfish person that ever existed. :huh:

Penned by: Tricia
5 Comments »

OK, here, finally, is my part of the Story-Go-Round. Don’t cheat, go read the whole thing from the beginning. I hope it was worth the wait.
Mya Spencer stood in the shower stall, the hot, steamy water barely beginning stem the tide of rage, shame, and disgust she felt. She could still remember how her skin crawled as she talked to Jeb/Jared at the bar, committed to her mission to engage him and lead him to believe he was ensnaring HER so that Jeb could be returned to Infernus.
Mya hated Infernus. Hated what it had made of her. Hated what it was making of innocent people like Jared. At 35, Mya had lived at Infernus all her life. Had been born there. Or, in more succinct terminology, she had been created there. Conceived in a test tube without even the benefit of genuine human DNA, spawned from genetically enhanced sperm and a laboratory-manufactured egg. Raised among other such children in a sterile environment with nurses and doctors coming and going. And Mya and her brothers and sisters were the lucky ones. “Alpha Prime,” as they were called, the first batch, the prototypes. Just to prove it could be done. Possessed of superior strength, razor-sharp reflexes, and high intelligence. Yet nothing overdone, nothing to draw suspicion to the experiment. That was saved for when the money started rolling in.
It wasn’t long before greed took over, and experimental batches were being created left and right, genes manipulated for appearance, intelligence, and many other attributes. And finally the money offered was great enough to completely destroy any remaining moral sense or sanity that those who ran Infernus had ever possessed. Those scientists who were not willing to participate discreetly disappeared, and those remaining learned their lesson. So came into being the “Omega” batch. The killers. Engineered to be military devices, killing machines with no conscience and no remorse.
But something went wrong with this batch. And the worst thing about it was, no one knew exactly WHAT was wrong. This batch could not be controlled with the internal microchips as the other batches were. They did not feel pain. And they would kill anyone. They did not differentiate allies from foes. They were damn near impossible to kill, and they healed with incredible swiftness when injured.
The entire batch had escaped together from the compound several months before, and was wreaking havoc throughout Infernus and beyond. Most of the other batches were put on assignment to capture all of the escapees, at whatever cost. Infernus had a lot of money on the line, and they would use any means to make sure they received it.
Then, several months earlier, one of the Omegas had been captured. He was called Jeb. On the way back to Infernus, Jeb attempted escape, and, mostly through sheer luck, was killed by one of the Betas.
That’s when it happened.
Instead of passing on along with his physical body, Jeb’s spirit rose from the ground with a flash of blinding white light, and disappeared just as suddenly right into the body of the Beta that had killed him. For about 30 seconds, none of them moved, then, quick as a snake, the Jeb/Beta proceeded to systematically massacre nearly the entire Beta batch without even breaking a sweat. Two Betas made it back to Infernus, and were taken away for questioning. That’s when it was discovered that the spiritual bodies of the Omegas were able to manifest themselves after physical death, and continue to live within the bodies of others, completely taking over their will. How long they could go on doing this, no one knew. They only knew that Jeb had to be stopped, and none of the other Betas could be allowed to die or be killed until some way of containing their spirits could be devised.
This is where Mya had come in. They had followed Jeb’s escapades for several months now, through two other bodies, and then Jared’s, the latest. It seemed that Jeb had a penchant for rape as well as murder. Infernus saw how this could be used to trap him once he started getting arrogant, which was inevitable with so many successful murders under his belt, with bumbling policemen only along for the ride. Mya was used as bait. And she had played her part well. And now they had Jeb, and they even had managed to keep poor Jared’s body alive so Jeb’s spirit would remain trapped within it.
So what the fuck did they want with her now? Mya reluctantly twisted the faucet, stopping the pounding flow of water. Her lissome body glistened as she stepped out onto the rug and grabbed the nearest towel She began to angrily rub herself dry, and her skin glowed pinkly. She pulled on an aqua bodysuit, regulation issue uniform provided by Infernus in different colors for each batch. She was supposed to meet Octurus in the laboratory, where Jeb was being kept. Apparently, Jeb was being quite hostile, and refusing to talk, and Octurus had had the brilliantly idiotic idea that seeing Mya again might break him, and they would finally get the information they needed.
Octurus was the brain behind the entire Infernus operation. Well into his 70s now, nonetheless he was extremely intimidating, and never was Mya so infuriated with what her life was than when she was being ordered about like a mere plaything, a valuable possession, by Octurus.
Mya entered the decontamination chamber and stood silently while the spray seemed to de-germ her forever. Then the green light came on, and the door to the laboratory slid open.
Octurus turned towards her, held his arms out and smiled broadly. Mya walked forward for the perfunctory kiss Octurus always insisted on bestowing upon his “children.” Then she turned to Jeb/Jared.
He was strapped down to the bed with a mind-boggling array of chains and tubes and locks and straps. If she weren’t so frightened of him herself, she would have laughed to see Octurus be afraid of something. She couldn’t fathom him escaping from those binds. But she could see the hatred shining out of those eyes.
“You bitch,” he snarled. “You think you can get away with this? I am going to take such pleasure in your killing that I don’t think I will ever be able to top it. I may even have to retire from killing after you.”
“I’d like to see you try,” scoffed Mya.
“I have been able to anytime I wanted. I have merely been waiting for you, you little cunt,” said Jeb/Jared in a deceptively quiet tone.
All of a sudden, Jeb/Jared got a look of concentration on his face, and not even a second later the bindings began breaking, making little popping sounds like rubber bands as he emerged from then, the chains clanging to the floor and scientists scattering like rats.
Mya stood frozen, and watched Jeb/Jared arise from the bed, and begin to walk towards her.
[edit] I think I must have been sleeping when I posted this, because I neglected to say that the story will be continued by Jared. [/edit]

Penned by: Tricia
6 Comments »

Happy Mother’s Day to one and all. Yeah, I realize I was supposed to have posted on Friday night, and I was really surprised that no one decided to just kick me out of this round of the Story-Go-Round. Anyway, maybe if you hear what happened, you will better understand. I DO have the story half-written, and it will be up tomorrow. That is a promise, and thank you AGAIN for your patience.
Every other Friday morning, I do a few hours of childcare for a Grandparents group that they have up at the school. I bring both Donovan and the baby I care for, and it essentially becomes an extra playgroup, so the kids love it. So we are there this past Friday, and things are great, there is only one child with the grandparents that I need to care for, so with just the three of them it was pretty easy. I had to go change Donovan, so off we went to the bathroom. He is starting to get the hang of washing his hands afterwards every time, so he was up on the stool having a ball with the water. It was time to go, so I helped him dry his hands, then he started to almost leap off of the stool. I grabbed his hand to help him down, but his hand was still wet, and it slipped right out of mine. He went down off of the stool and onto the floor, hitting the side of his head on the tiles with a loud thud. He began crying immediately as I scooped him up, but it was a breathless, strange-sounding cry, and I don’t think I have ever run so fast as I booked it up the stairs to the nurse’s office.
By the time we got there, Donovan had stopped crying, but as the nurse was looking at his head, he wasn’t responding to any of us, just kind of staring off into space. He didn’t have any bleeding, but there was a nice lump right above his left ear. I was freaking out, trying to stay calm, but I have this thing whenever one of my kids is hurt and crying in pain, I cry. It’s like a bizarre trigger response that I have never been able to control. So I am trying to talk to Donovan, get him to say something, anything, smile, cry, just something. And at the same time I am giving the nurse our pediatrician’s number, and tears are streaming down my face. Because I had no way to get to the doctor’s office quickly, being without a car, and because of Donovan’s very dazed state, the doctor decided to have the nurse call an ambulance and have us go to the emergency oom. By this time I think I was bordering on hysterical, but I managed not to lose it completely, other than the steady stream of tears. But let me tell you, I have never been so scared in my life, not even when Gregory passed out at school, because, well, by the time I saw Gregory after that happened he was looking and acting fine. And Donovan wasn’t.
The ambulance and crew arrives, and still Donovan isn’t responding, not even when the woman who runs the playgroups, whom Donovan ADORES, came upstairs to see if everything was alright. I must have looked like some kind of crazed lunatic, clutching my child, face beet red, tears streaming, but at the time I didn’t give a crap. I just wanted them to help my baby. We get in the ambulance, and all the way to the hospital the EMT and I tried to engage Donovan. It finally began working a little, and we even got him to beep my nose, but he was still very lethargic. So we arrive, and we get triaged, and Donovan perks up bit by bit. Then we go out to the waiting room, and Donovan sees the video games they have there. Wouldn’t you know, the little bugger jumps down from my arms and RUNS to the games? And that was that, he was right back to normal, asking for some chips and juice from a little cart outside, charming the resident that came to see him, and smiling up a storm. I felt like the sun had opened up all of its rays upon my face at the same time. He was pronounced fine, no concussion, just understandably dazed, and probably a bit overwhelmed by everyone fawning over him.
The only thing that smudged my happy moment was when I decided to call C to let him know what had happened (someone PLEASE tell me why I bothered, when I knew how it would be?). He seemed all concerned, but he never asked which hospital, he never said he’d be right there. I told him I might have to catch the bus home because I didn’t have enough money on me for a cab, and he just said, “OK, I’ll meet you at home.” W T F? SHOULD I have to beg for a ride from this man? SHOULD I need to ASK him to come pick his only son up from the hospital? I didn’t think so. Anyway, we didn’t freaking need him for anything anyways, we found a ride, and when we got home he was sitting his ass right there on his computer closing up all of his porno windows. “Oh, sorry dear, I didn’t realize you were too busy getting your pathetic rocks off to come pick up your son from the ER and make sure he was OK.” Bleh.
‹/bitter rant›
So, after I came home Friday I was totally wiped and stressed, and I think I am just now recovering from it all. But the main thing is that my baby is OK, and that makes everything OK.

Penned by: Tricia
11 Comments »

First off, let me apologize to those people awaiting my part of the Story-Go-Round. I realize I am behind, and I am working on it, and my next post WILL be my part of the story, no later than Friday evening, I promise. A lot of stuff has been going on with me which has not been conducive to thinking properly, but I will no longer allow myself to use that as an excuse.
So now, on to what I have been wanting to talk about. Today, it has officially been nine days since I totally weaned the baby. And yes, I am talking about weaning from the breast. l thought I would feel relief, feel a bit more free. Why, then, so I have this empty, BEREFT feeling? I know it was time to do this. Donovan is 20 months old, he is extremely healthy, he’s a total bruiser (currently 36 inches tall and almost 32 pounds – the size of an average THREE-year-old), and our nursing times were becoming much more infrequent even on their own, sometimes only once every 2-4 days.
In most ways, I feel I have done the best I could, and I feel like I should feel lucky I even got the chance to breastfeed him at all, considering all the troubles and the almost-giving-up we had in the beginning. But then another part of me feels like I am cruel and heartless when he looks up at me so sweetly with that little smile, trying to lift up my shirt and asking “Boo? Boo?” And I wonder if I should have just let the nursing take its course, let it progress to a more natural end. Since I am home right now, I could do that still. Maybe this, coupled with the fact that Gregory is going to be nine years old in a little over two weeks, has given me an acute case of “Mommy-itis,” with the added side affect of “Wanting-to-hold-back-time-ache.”
The events in my personal relationship over the past few months have led me to the conclusion that Donovan is most likely going to be my last child, whereas before I always thought I would have at least one more. So this ending is even more bittersweet in its very possible permanence. Or maybe, even though he still needs me a lot, I just feel jealous that he doesn’t need me for “everything” anymore. :huh: Is that awful?
I never thought I would enjoy nusing so much. I mean, I nursed Gregory, but I got really sick when he was 4 1/2 months old, and I had to wean out of necessity because I had to be on medication for several weeks. I never regretted stopping with him until several years later, when I think I first began to realize what a wonder breastfeeding is. I was SO determined to have that experience again that I worked day in and day out to help Donovan latch on properly when he was having troubles, even when his doctor was against us. And we succeeded so well. I guess this is just a pretty big change, in a time where ANY change to me is a scary thing, terrifyingly unknown, and endings are to be avoided at all costs. I just wish I knew how long I could expect this period of adjustment to last. :confused:

Penned by: Tricia
9 Comments »

Monday Mission 2.18
1. Do you have any tattoos? If no, why not and what would you get if you did get one. If you do have one or more, tell us how you came to get it, and why you chose the design you got inked with.
Yes, I have a small tattoo on my left outer calf of a yin/yang symbol with two dolphins swimming around it, all inked in just black. I would love to get another tattoo one day.
2. Has anything ever happened that caused you to believe, or disbelieve, in a Higher Power.
Lately, I go back and forth in my beliefs. But mostly, looking at my children, I feel there MUST be something in existence to create all of this wonderousness.
3. Have you ever seriously considered, or even attempted, suicide?
yes and yes
4. Has anyone you have known committed suicide?
no
5. This weekend you and I are going to the nature park for a picnic. I’ll bring the blanket and make all the arrangements. You pack the picnic basket. What’s inside?
A pretty plaid tablecloth, napkins, turkey-and-cheese and tuna-and-cheese sandwich selection on breads like marble rye and 7-grain, a chilled bottle of White Zinfandel, plenty of sodas (Cherry Pepsi, Sprite, and Coke), homemade macaroni salad, Doritos, and made-from-scratch still-warm brownies for dessert. (oh, man, I just made myself hungry. :LOL: )
6. Have you ever been mad at God for something that happened (or didn’t happen)?
Sometimes I do, but I believe for the most part mankind make it’s own destiny, so being angry at a creator being who gave us said destiny is kind of belaboring the point.
7. Post (or describe) an image of someone that is no longer with us. Tell us about that person.
This is my favorite author of all time, Marion Zimmer Bradley:

I was introduced to her books when I was around 10 years old, and I have been completely hooked ever since. I first read The Mists of Avalon, and then I started on her Darkover series, of which I have read every last book. It’s a cult, I tell you.
BONUS: Who are you?
Can I get back to you on that one?

Penned by: Tricia
1 Comment »

Wow, I am just remembering that I was supposed to come back and post some more on Friday. Well, I ended up taking the boys to see Spider-Man. We got to the theater at around 6:00pm, because I knew the place would be packed. Well, the 7:00pm movie was already sold out, so we bought tickets to the 7:30pm movie. We had to go into the theater around 6:40pm in order to get a decent seat. It is very hard keeping an 8-year-old and a 1-year-old busy for almost 45 minutes. :frazzled:
So anyway, it ended up being TOTALLY worth it. The movie was completely awesome, lots of action, an ALMOST plausible storyline (hey, it IS based on a comic book, after all ), and a bonus in that Donovan stayed seated in his stroller for the WHOLE movie, without screaming ONCE!
I was a bit annoyed by the reasons that Peter uses when he tells MJ they cannot be together. Honestly, you can tell men invented comic books. (*Deep, masculine, resigned voice* “I must save the world. You would only be in the way. We can never be together” *As he is thinking…”make way for a new chick in the next movie/issue/whatever” – no committment, no strings attached*) :LOL:
We didn’t end up getting home Friday night until around 10:00pm, and all of us went right to bed.
Then, yesterday, we went to visit Donovan’s grandmother (C’s mother). I think it is so funny how I am closer to her than her son ever has been or wanted to be, and, as she tells me over and over again, I treat her thousands of times better. I love that woman. She used to do drugs, live on the streets. Now, she is five years clean, has her own place, and pays her own bills. She is an inspiration. We had a great time, I stayed the night there with the boys, and she pampered all of us mercilessly.
Then today was BEAUTIFUL outside, so we left Grandma’s early, and went to the park for a few hours. It was so nice to be out of the house, and, at least for a few minutes, not think about who ISN’T in the house anymore.
Anyways, I am pretty tired, and I STILL need to get started on my part of the Story-Go-Round. UGH, I haven’t even looked at it…a few more days at the most, I promise, ok?
I kind of feel like plugging a bunch of people tonight, since I have been kind of missing in action in people’s comments lately. First, congratulations to Lynda on her engagement. Yeah, I know, I am all late, but better late than never.
How do I love you guys? Let me count the ways….
Rose and Kari and Branny and Alex and Lynn-Lynn and Su(zi)e and Romel and Mike and Gina and Sarah and Tashia and Shunda and Stacy and Lynn and Craig and Sue and if I forgot any of you, I love you too, ok? :kissy:

Penned by: Tricia
10 Comments »

…and plunge right in. OK, I think I am back up for the most part. NOT every page is finished yet, so please forgive any rash of 404 errors for the next few days, and I have a LOT of tweaking I still want to do in the sidebar and whatnot, but at least I have this back. I hope everyone likes the skins, and PLEASE PLEASE let me know if you have any problems with any of them?? I know there are a few known problems with the Eve skin and the Blue Flora skin, and I am working on them, so sorry about that. I will be back in a little bit with a bigger post, I have a few things I want to talk about, but for now, just have fun with the skins!
Oh, and one more thing…if any of you have me linked as /muse/index.html, please update your links, and either just link magickalmusings.net, or link /muse/ or /muse/index.php. Thanks!!

Penned by: Tricia
7 Comments »