blather
misstree's_rambling_regions
misstree is it a mountain? a plains area? a river valley, a geyser basin, a forest (deciduous or coniferous)?

it's somewhere, and the way that scenery has been shifting these past few weeks, well, it doesn't feel topsy turvey, just a bit disconnecting.

recent adventures included determining to put in two week's notice, leaving by getting myself fired a week later (so i could get my last paycheck), driving back to illinois (50+ hours on the road, including my car breaking down at a truck stop where i managed to beat a trucker, which is another_story), then a week in champaign (a week with my best, my species, *le_sigh*, then another 3 hours away to davenport, iowa to live in the back of a magic shop. there for 4 days, the boy and i both nearly penniless, then back to chicago, where i am in the middle of 5ish days before going back to davenport and scrambling for a job.

it exhausted me just writing that.

and i realize it sounds really jounaly, but that's just showing you what color the brain is that's about to start babbling in that very tree-like way. (and i must say, between the blue and clacking on keyboards, again with the *le_sigh*)

so i mentioned disconnection. i've been here before, different cities, different times, to quote meself. flat-ass broke, an reliable jalopy, in a city where i know no one, in a very strange situation. (i mean really, a magic/costume shop with a small theater attached is a pretty tripped out place to live.)

i've been here before. i've made it through every time, with different levels of hardship, and usually pretty hefty ones. but right now i'm just off the cliff, skating smaller drafts until i catch the big one. no idea how far i'll fall before i find it.

and you know what? it may be the detachment, but i'm not worried. these are actually relatively stable conditions compared to others in my past. and whatever's going to happen will happen whether i get an ulcer over it.

there's one thing that does almost cause me worry. caesar. we are Proper together; but we also need very specific conditions to flourish. and the tense desperation of living at the bottom is a bit contrary to it. we're both trying to find our footing; not a proper place for the intensity we flourish in to manifest.

so you see, while i believe in my ability to come through rough times intact, i don't want He and I to be poisoned with scraping grey days.

here and there and there and here. coming back to civilization felt like the first time i could breathe in three months, like i'd been underwater. first was beating the trucker, then a night at the bars (oh, to swoon for), then a hippie garden party where i got to beat and tussle with boys, then wicked afterparties and appropriate substances, then a night of rest, and my brain was back in the universe it belongs in. a little rusty, but i'll be quickly caught up and striving forward.

again with the hopes that the gusts carry me through bright paths.

that's enough drinking from this brain right now. in chicago for five days, i'll be flinging reflections like dogpoop. 		040805
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u24 missed ya, hun. 040806
...
misstree (*lick! missed you too, dahlink. was thinking of you the other night upon hearing the second-hand news that a hardcore atheist objectivist geek (in that genius kinda way) and all around bizarre folk got kinda bopped on the head by the "holy crap, there really *is* something going on!" bug... he's been picking a pagan friend's brain re wicca, i can't wait to start throwing things at his brain, and i think the ask_use24 stuff would be a good start... blargle blargle... hey, it's interesting to me, so any random blatherskite can hear me say "nyar!" once again.

by the way, "here, weirdfish weirdfish weirdfish!"

never mind.

what i came bounding over here to babble about was meat. see, me and my meat dropped connection at jellystone. 2 months of near-celibacy (did find one occasional meatling, but that's another_story), very occasional brutalism but most of it perpetrated on other people, constant abuse from waitressing, man, that was one of the last straws that sent me sreaming.

so i come back, and in those first few days, there was a whole lot of meat awakening. i mean, c'mon, i'm with my playmate. and tussling with boys, a cigarette burn (three of them, technically, though the wounds kind of melded together), and one seriously scraped knee and one seriously bruised.

picking up the scrape and the bruise was the beginning of my body's rebellion. the scrape and the burn both picked up minor infections, and all three wounds were pretty painful in normal movement and needed some extra loving care.

how's that for a loved one greeting you home.

and now, coming to one of the points in this ramble, my lower back is wrenched or sprained or something exceedingly uncomfortable. le_sigh, so my body's rebelling. i'll deal with it, it and i are going to be having some major conversations in the near future anyhow.

but the reason my back is wrenched. playing with a friend, erm, marius, the other night. having him show me joint locks, etc. nearly bit his head off because he was throwing locks into my wrists way too hard, after being warned not to (they's valuable and don't heal well, dammit!). grumbly, but whateva. but there were a couple of throws that he showed me which were sudden, wrenching, and proceeded right into a lock. nasty things. that he threw me into full-force.

(/begin rant) mother fucker. when you're teaching someone, first off, you have to show them how it's done, and especially someone like me, usually show a few times and have me work it until i get it right. nope, he was racing from one thing to the other, even brushing off most questions on theory. and you do it gentle. if a move can hurt someone, fucking do it light. (/end rant)

i guess i had less of a rant in that than i thought. i'm just grumpy because my back hurts.

anyway, there were other blarglings i wanted to get out. the tussling.

the boys i tussled with in the basement both asked me a bit about my brainspace on it, as did the trucker. lots of it i didn't know quite how to answer right off the bat. "does this get you excited?" the trucker asked as i paused to watch some welts come up. "not in the 'i want to fuck you,' kind of way," i told him. "in what way then?" that paused me. "heart pumping. big grin. feeling alive. that kind of excited. like an electron." the moment that the first boy's eyes buggeed out and spittle flew from his lips before he roared and head-butted me into the floor. (i'd been head butting him the entire time, pushing him. he was fabulous, we got up and giggled and drank together afterwards.)

that kind of shit, i don't know what it is that's the draw for me... my throat hurt from having teeth clamped around it, cutting off air, and i was still wheezing and growling words. moments like that, those are the real ones.

there are rules. i meant to ramble on codes of behavior, shite like that, but the stink in here is getting thick, and i have housework to do (meow meow). *curtsey* *scamper* 		040806
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misstree is drunk again yeah, i told you it would get thick in here. lots of pent up stuff.

i mean to say something under drugs_and_alcochol_are_fierce, (likely misquoted) and i may yet, but i'm sorry if i'm loping along like a bison that stepped in a hotpot right now.

guess what? misstree_is_drunk_again! yay.

so she rambles on booze. if she wanted to, she could scrape a piece and ramble on both, but that's effort, and i have vokka.

it occured to me to tell my parents, "i'm a bit chemically imbalanced, and i self_medicate with alcohol," but with a borderline aloholic as a stepfather, i don't think that would fly well.

so, what do i say when i want to tell the truth? the above is a good start. there are various references to waking up from a dream in tears. that was just the beginning of the day.

parents, neh? i spent the night in clothes that aren't mine, because me mum wanted me to wear stuff that was "normal" (c'mon, mom, i'm not *that* much of a goth). nothing like having your identity assailed to really lift your spirites, neh?

and i'm so drunk i'm being sponsored by the backspace key, and everything hurts a little less. that is why i drink. so things hurt a little less. somewhere along the line, i denied myself the right to hurt. much like the u.n., it did nothing. so now i just hurts quietly. until i drink.

i'm sorry, is this chatty bullshit? suck the big latex cock that i will purchase any day now. in the meantime, meet ace, who still intimidates me.

i drink until i can pass out. is it a problem? do i care? whatever gets you through each moment, neh?

and why does it hurt? oh fucking boy.

my meat is rebelling. my Family is a million miles away. i have no job, no true home, and an 81 dodge aries (anyone remember k_cars? chances are, if you do, i lurve you) as my freedom. my meat is rebelling; if i knew a good way to saw off hunks of it and turn a profit, i would. (spleen, auction starts at $20.) a headache is starting, even though i have a rather large drink to finish. my brain is spinning in bad bad circles re caesar. i want more grappa, not this asshole vokka.

and i'm babbling. there's a million things i want to say, but saying anything would make it hurt, and see above for the unacceptability of that. so. i'll say this.

.fallen, i need a dose of you, i cried for a dream version of you being taken away. blue, i love you, and need some serious cuddle time. caesar, make me not doubt. miss tree, dear god girl, find your footing quick, if you fall much further it'll turn ugly. run away from that familial home, it has never held more than two days' worth of nutrients.

fuckit. none of it matters anymore. i'm going to go be depressed at neopets and then (hopefully) at a real bed. if anyone gives a flying fuck, wish me luck surviving first the rest of the stay here, then the joblessness/ poverty/ uncertainty/ desperate need and associated stifling of said need back home.

adios, mis amores. 		040808
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realistic optimist if you'll check the personality file on me, you'll notice i grew up in davenport, iowa. i may still have some connections alive and well in that riverboat gambling town. drop me a line and i'll see what i can do, darlin'.

wishes you much luck and lurve 		040809
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misstree so no shit, there i was... i'd had a few...

sorry, it seems like all good stories start out with that. and what good stories do you have for us today, misstree, you ask. few. life has been... well... so there i was...

i'm living in the back of a magic shop (you know, bunnies out of hats and all that shite) that also sells gags and costumes. pretty darn tooting cool on the one hand (it is the other kind of adult toy store, after all), but if you've ever lived in the back of a business, you'd know it's a little bit confined, a little bit cabin_fever inducing, and a little bit unsettling. it would be much better if i had a job, but cheddar's thinks i have too much experience to waitress for them, outback steakhouse thinks i'm a sociopath (or somesuch; i think those little computerized personality tests should be banned; just shows how good of a liar you are), and the one place i actually got a job is a restraunt that may open up eventually a few weeks from now, and when they do i basically have to buy a complete uniform.

so no shit, there i was, i'd had a few... the owner of the magic shop has been taking care of both caesar and i (though caesar is his manager and close friend, and as an employee has a right to expect to be fed and such things) fairly well. fed, housed, even occasional drinks or visits to the strip club. but the brainspace, well, it's been a bit ugly. feeling kinda worthless, you know? i clean around the shop and i've been organizing shit, but i really really want to be able to stand on my own. don't do well relying on anyone else. and nothing is better to motivate you to get out and make a great impression on some prospective employers than a suicidal depression, i tell ya.

but this isn't a "woe is me" kinda blathe, it's a "hey, shit sucks right now but watch this space" kinda blathe. i do a second interview at cheddar's on friday. i have 6 more waitressing resumes to hand out tomorrow if i have the time. (yes, those are actually resumes for *waitressing*. i'm that good.) i'm the most well taken care of stray cat i have ever been, and even if all i have is given to me, well, brian couldn't be a better host and i couldn't be in a better position to keep the karma not too unbalanced. (organizing racks of costumes and mopping a theater isn't really the treat it sounds, and he has a tendency to be a bit, ah, unmotivated.) and once caesar and i get in our groove, well, we'll tear this town into itty bitty little bits, oh so slowly so we don't scare people too quick, and we'll be having oddball acts in the theater and preparing our herd and possibly even reviving some semblance of a goth night in this town, and it'll be all good.

and, i must note, it would help a whole fuck of a lot in keeping a positive attitude if big_momma would bother at least sneezing in my direction to tell me she's still got an eye out. but that would be the nice thing to do. and milady seems to share my opinoin of nice vs. entertaining. fargin' beyotch.

so no shit, there i was. i'd had a few, and shit was really looking like the brown eye of a leperous elephant with diarrhea. but then i started hearing this weird giggling... 		040825
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sab big_momma might be busy for the moment

but as one of her earthly representitives, let me assure you that

We Know
We Know, We Care
We Know, We Care and We Are Often
Drunk 		040825
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stork daddy sitting in the back of trunk with a ballgag in your mouth does wonders for your perspective. i used to think my life sucked until that fateful weekend in the ozarks. 040825
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marked . 040907
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misstree momma says she'll be back when the party picks up. cheddar's is ass, but it's recently washed ass, and it's a job. headspace has restabilized (as much as it ever does) and each day has another one past it.

a visit to tuesday_goth_night was strange. good, and reminded me how happy i am to be away from that town (despite missing a sibling very badly). but two little things that stuck with me.

one was the vacuum left by caesar and i's departure. there was a void in the power structure, and there were these weird little plays being made by -lings to fill it, though we're both of the (rather cocky but imho justified) opinoin that none of them are really, well, capable. to be royalty of our sort takes a certain blend of charm, mystery, fear, and respect. it's a bit nasty sometimes, especially when a goodly number run from you, and another number are just plain skittish, but the hunting is good and holding court in a booth can be entertaining, and one never lacks for drinks. but little things. like two different little sets of babybats leading eachother around on leashes. awwww. how cute. no, i'm serious, it was adorable. but c. and i were never about the showy games or the society, we were all snarl and twist and rend. in the kindest, most stimulating ways, of course. ahem.

anyways, the second thing was the mention of passion, and its necessity in a happy life. i haven't been truly fucking passionate about soemthing in a while. there is passion there, but it's the muted, survivable kind of passion, not the one that threatens to tear you to pieces or send you out of your skin to disperse forever in a shower of light or tears come or whatthefuck ever. the fire, the real burning shit, bay-bee. been missing. long time. part of why recently was so rough for me. (and gawd damn did it get rough.) but i can feel it, like a stray cat hiding beneath a tire to sniff me out. there's something coming, but i gotta grab it.

i'll tell you when i've got it by the tail. 		040908
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misstree about ten different things firing in the treebrain right now, so i'm going to ramble about them, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.

first let me state that i truly wish i had a slight amount more intoxicant available to me. but, being without car or monies, can't be helped. a slight bit stoned anyway, so who can argue.

so, the reason i am without car right now, caesar is at the strip club, in theory leaving after having picked his date up from work as we speak. she's a nice enough little twat, though meself, i know to stay away from her, as i kinda consider her a bit inferior. yeah, i know, that sounds mean, but she's just not the brightest crayon in the box, nor does her soul sparkle with anything unique. what can i say? though i suppose it's better than someone who *was* truly exceptional; i've seen what that does, and fearing actual competition turns me into the nastiest kind of beast.

anyway, yeah, in theory he will get stripper tail for the first time tonight. young stripper tail, too, 19 years old. thass my boy. i'm proud of him and happy for him and nervous for him and nervous for me all at the same time. thus the wish for intoxicants; tends to distill things. or at least mute some of them.

the thing that makes me nervous enough for me that i feel the need to write, is that times have been tough in the old treebrain lately, still. it's been rough for a while. i thought i was better, i thought cheddar's had me lifted out of it, but once during training and again the other night i broke bad again. so it's been one locking myself in the cleaning closet, one trip to the emergency room, and one visit from the cops. people who know me in real life know that this is not like me. i get bad, but i haven't been seriously suicidal for 10 years, and back then i was still forming.

promised twice that i'd make an appointment with public mental health, sliding scale type stuff. i want to, at the same time as i avoid it, because bouncing my brain off a total stranger always has unpredictable results, and in family counseling as a teen i talked circles around the poor girl, and what will i do to this poor fuck know that i'm older and better at it? but i honestly want to go, and sit down with the person, and say, don't bother asking me about work or my family or any bullshit get-comfortable little details, this is what i've been feeling lately and this is what i've puzzled out as to why.

and what *have* i puzzled out as to why? shit. kinda hard to phrase, lots of little things. still in the back of the magic shop, so no real Home. i can't piss in the corners here. the room we sleep in is tiny, and the rest of the place is like a house where people show up randomly and you can't ask them to leave and you always have to be proper around them and pretend you have some purpose to being there. so not having a Home is a little stressful, but more just leaves me without that comfort zone.

there's money. like i said, two bucks to my name. cheddar's pays butt, and it's september, and the end of the month. caesar and i both have been mostly lacking the funds to do as we wish and/or escape the shop for a while unless the owner provides, which he does often and freely, as part of caesar's wages, so to speak. but there's an independence and a lack of boredom that has been compromised, badly, and we're going a bit stir-crazy. plus, and now we get to the deepest stuff, it doesn't do much for the self-esteem. and that's what's killing me, no pun intended.

so, no Home, no money, no circle of influence, i've been pretty broken down. and caesar has been and done more for me than i could ever ask any human being to. i hate myself for putting him through this stuff (shall we start tallying the causes of menotlikeme here?). i mean, it's really fucking unfun to have to call the cops on a loved one so she doesn't drive off to kill herself, then get two hours of sleep and a wicked hangover before your grand opening. i feel like it's unfair to him, and it would be reasonable for him to either resent me or want to be away from me for it, and for its persistence. i haven't been myself at all lately; goofiness is stunted, fangs only come out in crowds, i just lost my spunk. (no, sorry, it's right here on this sock. ahem.) it's slightly more difficult for him to hunt strange with me around (i'm not even bothering describing the oddities of tonight), so i feel in the way, and he's an ungodly good hunter so he gets chicas much prettier than i. and, if brian weren't helping to support me, all that money would be goig to caesar instead. a lot of things whispering to deep squishy bits that he has every reason not to like me. now, considering that he's the reason i'm out here, and i really have no backup plan, and i think he's the coolest thing since sliced bread, well, throwing myself in the mississippi seemed like a good way to solve the whole mess. i felt like my life was worthless. and i use the past tense right now only because i'm between occurances; i've eased up on my drinking and i'm trying hard, but i'm still not doing so hot.

so, thank you gods of newdream, because i really really needed to get that out, and i can't just talk to myself, so i talk to this strange blue entity. and to whoever actually reads this whole ramble, i'm not looking for sympathy, worry, advice, or even any sort of reaction. first rule of tree is that i make it through anything against all odds; this is just its newest incarnation. i'll be a'ight.

can't wait to hear how caesar's night went. anxious. hope he tags it.

oh yeah, and there's this dude that wants me to dom him and fuck him up the butt with an obnoxiously large dildo. he's had a dom before who did it, loved it. likes beatings. old dude, ex-trucker, relatively cool. not sure exactly what i'm going to do to this situation, but it's going to be as selfish and brutal as i can get away with, and then a litle more. my apathy for most males, though, is a bit overwhelming, and i'm still a very clumsy dom, but the only way to acquire grace is through time. and what the fuck do i have to lose? i don't care about this guy's opinoin on whether or not i'm going to hospitalize him, much less whether i make an effective dom.

anyhow, the boy is back, no you don't get the details, cunts and curtsies. 		040927
...
misstree about ten different things firing in the treebrain right now, so i'm going to ramble about them, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.

first let me state that i truly wish i had a slight amount more intoxicant available to me. but, being without car or monies, can't be helped. a slight bit stoned anyway, so who can argue.

so, the reason i am without car right now, caesar is at the strip club, in theory leaving after having picked his date up from work as we speak. she's a nice enough little twat, though meself, i know to stay away from her, as i kinda consider her a bit inferior. yeah, i know, that sounds mean, but she's just not the brightest crayon in the box, nor does her soul sparkle with anything unique. what can i say? though i suppose it's better than someone who *was* truly exceptional; i've seen what that does, and fearing actual competition turns me into the nastiest kind of beast.

anyway, yeah, in theory he will get stripper tail for the first time tonight. young stripper tail, too, 19 years old. thass my boy. i'm proud of him and happy for him and nervous for him and nervous for me all at the same time. thus the wish for intoxicants; tends to distill things. or at least mute some of them.

the thing that makes me nervous enough for me that i feel the need to write, is that times have been tough in the old treebrain lately, still. it's been rough for a while. i thought i was better, i thought cheddar's had me lifted out of it, but once during training and again the other night i broke bad again. so it's been one locking myself in the cleaning closet, one trip to the emergency room, and one visit from the cops. people who know me in real life know that this is not like me. i get bad, but i haven't been seriously suicidal for 10 years, and back then i was still forming.

promised twice that i'd make an appointment with public mental health, sliding scale type stuff. i want to, at the same time as i avoid it, because bouncing my brain off a total stranger always has unpredictable results, and in family counseling as a teen i talked circles around the poor girl, and what will i do to this poor fuck know that i'm older and better at it? but i honestly want to go, and sit down with the person, and say, don't bother asking me about work or my family or any bullshit get-comfortable little details, this is what i've been feeling lately and this is what i've puzzled out as to why.

and what *have* i puzzled out as to why? shit. kinda hard to phrase, lots of little things. still in the back of the magic shop, so no real Home. i can't piss in the corners here. the room we sleep in is tiny, and the rest of the place is like a house where people show up randomly and you can't ask them to leave and you always have to be proper around them and pretend you have some purpose to being there. so not having a Home is a little stressful, but more just leaves me without that comfort zone.

there's money. like i said, two bucks to my name. cheddar's pays butt, and it's september, and the end of the month. caesar and i both have been mostly lacking the funds to do as we wish and/or escape the shop for a while unless the owner provides, which he does often and freely, as part of caesar's wages, so to speak. but there's an independence and a lack of boredom that has been compromised, badly, and we're going a bit stir-crazy. plus, and now we get to the deepest stuff, it doesn't do much for the self-esteem. and that's what's killing me, no pun intended.

so, no Home, no money, no circle of influence, i've been pretty broken down. and caesar has been and done more for me than i could ever ask any human being to. i hate myself for putting him through this stuff (shall we start tallying the causes of menotlikeme here?). i mean, it's really fucking unfun to have to call the cops on a loved one so she doesn't drive off to kill herself, then get two hours of sleep and a wicked hangover before your grand opening. i feel like it's unfair to him, and it would be reasonable for him to either resent me or want to be away from me for it, and for its persistence. i haven't been myself at all lately; goofiness is stunted, fangs only come out in crowds, i just lost my spunk. (no, sorry, it's right here on this sock. ahem.) it's slightly more difficult for him to hunt strange with me around (i'm not even bothering describing the oddities of tonight), so i feel in the way, and he's an ungodly good hunter so he gets chicas much prettier than i. and, if brian weren't helping to support me, all that money would be goig to caesar instead. a lot of things whispering to deep squishy bits that he has every reason not to like me. now, considering that he's the reason i'm out here, and i really have no backup plan, and i think he's the coolest thing since sliced bread, well, throwing myself in the mississippi seemed like a good way to solve the whole mess. i felt like my life was worthless. and i use the past tense right now only because i'm between occurances; i've eased up on my drinking and i'm trying hard, but i'm still not doing so hot.

so, thank you gods of newdream, because i really really needed to get that out, and i can't just talk to myself, so i talk to this strange blue entity. and to whoever actually reads this whole ramble, i'm not looking for sympathy, worry, advice, or even any sort of reaction. first rule of tree is that i make it through anything against all odds; this is just its newest incarnation. i'll be a'ight.

can't wait to hear how caesar's night went. anxious. hope he tags it.

oh yeah, and there's this dude that wants me to dom him and fuck him up the butt with an obnoxiously large dildo. he's had a dom before who did it, loved it. likes beatings. old dude, ex-trucker, relatively cool. not sure exactly what i'm going to do to this situation, but it's going to be as selfish and brutal as i can get away with, and then a litle more. my apathy for most males, though, is a bit overwhelming, and i'm still a very clumsy dom, but the only way to acquire grace is through time. and what the fuck do i have to lose? i don't care about this guy's opinoin on whether or not i'm going to hospitalize him, much less whether i make an effective dom.

anyhow, the boy is back, no you don't get the details, cunts and curtsies. 		040927
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LSblue Mmmm....

Call if you need me, my sister... 		040928
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jane man, have i been there. for some things analogous. you can call me too 040928
what's it to you? blather
who go from