Something has been wrong. And I've suppose I've been depressed because of it. -as it works, that makes puts me into a mood of avoidance. I intend to write again. so later today I'll be back.

I leave in a couple of minutes to see if I can go pick Jared up from work on time. It snowed today, for the first time since a week before Thanksgiving.. I use to think snow was beautiful, until I crashed three times my first winter driving. This is my second, and it has barely begun. :) Here is a beautiful sky to look at. It isn't an unusual occurance. I see it every morning at sunrise when I wake up. Thought I'd share. These were taken from the old house. Not very photogenitically inclined, but beautiful nonetheless.

Local alaska has recently suffered from one man's matchette in a murderous rampage.

I wouldn't give that too much weight. Only one person, the man's elderly father, fell victim to the machette while he was sleeping. Then the murder turned to his father's girlfriend and struck her with the matchette. The blow didn't kill her, but woke her to a situation that she was able to flee -only severely injured. After her escape, the murderer confessed that killing people with a machette took more effort than he had assumed: so he dropped that particular weapon and went to find his father's gun. He adds, I knew I was going to be punished for my crimes.. I decided to kill a few people along the way.

He took the gun to Anchorage, our one main city, and shot a college student sitting in his car waiting for it to warm up. He also shot two joggers. One of them survived.

And thats all. He claims to have been provoked by the feelings that his family held low a opinion of him and was hence treating him badly.

This is one I felt more seriously towards.

Soldier survives 300 missions in Iraq, only to return home to be killed by moose.


Personal: My cash assistance will be reopened this Thursday since I was reassigned to a differnt case worker who says that I can be granted leave from work after the baby is born. On the same day, we apply for food stamps. Also: Jared has agreed to apply for a night shift at McDonalds to make up for working 15 hours a week at Lowes.

holygod my camera pisses me off. I think it is a piece of shit.



I consider this bad quality -but I need to go learn more. I'm probably misusing it.

whats a pregnancy plan.
~Stewie!~ says:
whwen yu go into labor.. n yu go to the hospital.. its wat yu want to do..
~Stewie!~ says:
how yu want yu birthing to go
sham says:
with an epideral

And a some horror movies. I know I am going to be there for some time and I don't want to be the girl in the background with the silently contorted face as her boyfriend keeps his back to her while playing WII in her delivery room. That's not fair, in fact, seeing that kind've pissed me off.

My delivery plan so far includes pain medicine, epideral, and horror movies. I haven't shared the idea for this plan yet, so honestly I don't know how pheasible it is -but I know it would make me more comfortable for passing the time. I want to see Santa Sangre and Battle Royale again. And I'll want things with faster paces -like the original Hitcher. I may not have the patience for Santa Sangre, so I need other faster paced horror movies. I can't think of any. I'm going to check out the IMDB horror board for awhile.

An epideral slows the process of birth, especially when it is your first child. My doctor told me she is going to keep the epideral from me until I am three centimeters dialated. And.. I'm going to also probably accept the offer of having the event .. recorded.

Tingly feet. When I get as depressed as I seem to frequently doo... I might become a hypochrondiac. Like Cassi. Who, because she is a native Alaska, gets complete free medical coverage for the entirety of her life. Nothing else could feed one better. She gets a headache and goes in for a catscan: I would think she's bored with life -but she gets to go moose hunting year round and that seems as if it would be too jam packed with bloody adreniline excitement and sex pheramones to let your life be stale.

i love dead moose I like them best when they hang from my garage ceiling to get carved up with a chainsaw. When I was young, I would sit in the lowered back flap of trucks with my little girl cousins and watch from the driveway. I was waiting to play with the bones. That was culture. A lot of social workers in our state have a problem with these habits. They don't like it when the natives hang their raw fish to dry inside the house kitchen either. or dig up pig carcassess. the entire neighborhood hates that.

I'm not native. I'm mexican and I'm foreign to this state plus country considering I was once illegal. But as for being depressed: my vehicle's reliability is fluxuating again -Right after being in the shop. It's attempting to nickel and dime me to death. and I fell down the stairs outside because of the ice. As I was going down, I twisted my right ankle pretty bad -then landed on my back. I didn't think that was a big deal, though I limped for a day.

On Thanksgiving it warmed, then rained and took the snow away -leaving too much mud. I was half attempting to run to my car, holding a freshly finished afghan mind you, and fell in the mud. I only landed on my knees, then my right side -but I twisted the same foot.

Now it keeps twinging in pain, so I'm limping and it has swolled up. Plus, my throat is flaming. Or inflamed. And this is the second morning I've woken to five charlie horses in a row happening in my right lower leg. Oh, tingly feet. These are my tingly feet..

To date: I have decided that it isn't realistic to say anyone besides Jared is close to me. And that is the way I have always been. Yet not what I've wanted. I remember starting each elementary grade by telling mom, "I am going to find a best friend this year."

I was a normal kid from the woods, who ran might have ran around barefoot and picked up soppy wet bones -but I played by myself significantly too much. Perhaps I also concentratrated on reading too much and drawing myself away from normal engagements. I really can't identify WHY my hopes towards childshood friendship never panned out. I can identify my problems today, but for that time period I'm baffled. Children are too naturally sweet before puberty, so such isolation that I experienced doesn't really make sense to me. Oh, lol, except for the fact that I looked foreign wierd with an afro, heavy brows I've since waxed and big lips in the world of pale alaskan children from massively white communities. I understand how visually prejudiced children can be. Their depth of reasoning doesn't go too far, and I do remember several girls refusing to play with me because I was ugly.

I think I gave up at the age of twelve -although I made the decision to give up at fourteen when social anxiety began to climax and control me.

Today, my most frequent feeling towards people is anxious =impatient frusteration. I usually smile and nod because I'm so timid and sweet for them, of course, but really in my head I'm begging them to: Stop giggling about this slapstick bullshit and say something real, please! And I can spend hours, weeks to months, waiting for even one accidental occurence of this happening -my one opportunity, if I could just catch them in that moment. I have a lot of patience to express.

Maybe, the problem is that I have no outward sense of humor. Once again, that the way I look is intimidating with the added effect that I am quiet -

people don't know how to interpret quiet: most frequently they get the incorrect impression that you are a stuck up bitch (especially if you are good looking. I'm not flattering myself, but I think this is true because even I find myself feeling this way towards good looking quiet girls, which often disturbs me on a reflective level), or slow and uninteresting in the head -

and that I express no sense of humor, nor do laugh at other people's humor, besides smiling at them a tid for acknowledgement.

Because that is how people introduce themselves. A sense of humor and wit acts as the metaphorical feelers for a person in a social situation. Being funny and light is the criteria someone first sizes you up by +to decide if you are compatible with their personality.

I desire and crave to be impressed on by a deeper level from someone -deeper than hello humor, before I relax to let my natural humor instictives go. I don't know how this would happen. Jared is the only person who ever pulled it off because we met at such a critical time for us and the events around us, that we were pressed immediately to discuss the issues at hand -bringing us, I suppose, to know each other on an intellectual basis before the giggling started.


Then in all, I could just be completely ridiculous and off with my perception.





( Baby Shower Pictures. )

Alright. I've had a nanowrimo account for a while, and anticipated this month: but I can't write in this house with these children that I'm starting to dislike out of crankiness everywhere and the computer next to the tv that is always on. Fact is, I can't THINK in this house. I have no personal space, and perhaps my brain is static-when I am use to living in solitary environments.. usually chilled because I never kept the fire going when I got involved with writing... and my cat Lasher would alternate between sitting on my lap or the keyboard, purring for absolutely no reason. Condolences for losses.

Living here is a serious strain on me. I don't know how to explain it, but I am begining to feel some nasty temperments towards the general filth -the children, and the television. I hate to express these feelings, because I know that truthfully I do love these people, and if I haven't been here so long -I would generally not hold these things against anyone.

I've been getting rude. I easily screamed at a child who was only trying to play with my face.. to get the fuck away from me. If my body produced a color to reflect my moods, I'd be dinging into a shade of black green.

Official: I am over the transition of returning to work. Yesterday was a day off, and I called to see if they could use me. I accepted an eight hour shift.

Today is my 2nd and last baby shower. I bought maternity clothes for the first time for the occasion. I want to buy a gift for the aunt who is putting this together so that my stepfamily can celebrate with me -I'm thinking of flowers in a pot. That's all. I love orchids and may want to share that love.



Eventual goal: post an application to evidence0flife.

If I thought I would be posting any written work in the next few days, I fooled myself. Unless I want to dredge something up. I feel like I don't know how to write.


this is carly. i told you she was too pretty.

As depressed as I do feel about the other night with carly -she left me a comment saying "ahh shaina how i stumble for words when i'm around you." I don't know how to interpret that precisely, but I'll sway to the positive side of it

WHY DO HER EYES SPARKLE!!?! damnit.
even in a black and white photo, you will admit that her eyes do sparkle.

balls.
i resent myself.


maxwell shepherd, you make so much sense.

we spent some time fishtailing around. got stuck on an icy upcline hill. walked out on bee movie. had a difficult time talking to each other for thirty minutes. end.

So I've arranged to meet with carly today. tonight. and watch american gangster in town. Town is a forty minute drive at night, on an icy road, in the snow. I'm scared, but more of spending time with her than the road conditions. though you should be reasonably scared of that as well.

sham says:
I can totally acknowledge that jared is a crazy man asshole with a controlling streak who will probably kill me someday and think he did it with complete justification from god and all other men AND still love him.

sham says:
jared puts dents in cars and metal doors.




I need to call carly on this hang out thing. I've never done this without a romantic goal before.

On a second note:


sham says:
im fucking bored with everyone on my msn list
Lonely heart says:
welcome to the merry old land of oz
sham says:
i hate everyone on my msn list

well, exclude yourself

but i hate these people

do you know thats depressing?
Lonely heart says:
why do you hate them?

because it feels like the life in them has died. I bet thats just me. They have nothing interesting to say. I don't care about them, I realize I have not cared about them for a long time.. and they are really fucking brainless -as in, we have nothing in common and I can't even push/direct them into a depth conversation. even if I did all the talking.

its not that great. but at one point, you realize that nothing online has any real life value

Think about tetragenetic Chimeras. What you could call a fully working hermaphrodite. This is the blog entry from a woman I cashier trained with at my local Fred Meyers. I thought she was a male to female transvestite. She has masculine features, muscular forearms, and an adams apple -so I didn't think I was too far off. Now, medically I believe her. But when you start trying to look at the pictures of her as a model in Europe.. I see absolutely no resemblance.


( K’s Anatomy... the SO WHAT eddition )

+ bought book title: "MIDDLESEX".


her favorite photo of herself blonde.

The nickname "K" is short for her natural Hawaiian name that is Kwahiwhtoahaognsdbgsdfl. or some such.

you are so pretty

when i really need to concentrate

As much as I like to bitch and gripe: I have to say that yesterday at work was a good one. It took a crack addled 40 year old to properly teach me the front counter register regime -and then we hit a two hour lobby rush being shorthanded and with me as the only front counter person. I had no one large mistakes made besides not ordering sauces for a few people because I didn't know where the button was and decided to ignore that obstacle in sake of the larger scheme of things.

There looks to be some kind of spontaneous infection in my left foot. At least there did. I wrote that half an hour ago. Just recently, I pulled a large sliver of glass out of my foot. Jared, some time ago in our room, threw a lamp against the wall when I wasn't home -shattering portions of the lamp plus the lightbulb.

I have an interview at Blockbusters tomorrow. again.

I thought I already had a problem with time management.

My feet have swollen. The abdomen is tightening. I'm suffering a surprising loss of appetite. At work, I drink water -but I have to work on sipping at it otherwise I feel nauseous. There are less bloody cracks in my bottom lip. I feel as if my lack of appetite is child abuse and that scares me.

I force myself to eat once while I'm there, and stuff whatever I can before I go out of a methodical sense of obligation.

Soda makes me sick.

At the grill I burned my finger -no blister as I've been expecting, but this odd scar like stripe has appeared. My biggest concern is my feet. A few hours in, and I can't handle the pain there. I went from zero excersize -reading writing drawing crochet driving cooking SEDENTARY, to a hardcore reverse direction of being on my feet, bending and pushing for eight hours a day.

I don't know how I got this schedule. :/
There are things I need to do. But first, I have to watch this one nighter movie while I let my abdomen loosen up on the couch ~hopefully. Try and catch up on the blanket for great grandma lila. Wish I could be writing. But now I only have two hours until work. I've been awake for four.

I use to work on a farm six days a week, eight hours a day hoeing and harvesting vegetables. Why didn't that hurt as bad as this? three years ago..

19 years old. Some people at this point in their lives are already in college, and thats the norm. I don't want to be 20 years old.

Are you going to leave highschool now?

I am an honor roll student who stopped caring. I was never involved in the spirit, thank you, although I tried -I ended up resenting myself for this unnatural knack on self isolation. I won a speech competition, the purple award in art, multiple writing honors, and also a very unprofessional expulsion. I make invisible walls. When they exist, I am a scapegoat. I think, that when you build an invisible wall, bad brain juju, you forfeit worth. Scapegoat.

GED? About time?

I've lost my enthusiasm for job class. When you are on cash assistance in the state of Alaska, you are expected to either work 40 hours a week, or attend job bank services/classes/training to make up those 40 hours. I REACHED MY GOAL. I GOT A JOB. Now, get off my back, you rabid bitch monkeys. Because I never intended to work 40 hours a week. Because you didn't tell me that part -because: I've been working too hard for you even with the frequent interference of my imbalances that are creating chaos inside of me, because I want a STABLE life and I need to be left alone enough to breathe.

I have no time of my own. I can't live entirely in another person's world. I need one of my own. I need my time, and I need the control of my life now. Which is also refering to the inlaws I live with.

I thought I would get out of job class -out of the two sessions a day -out of the legal obligation to contact five different employers a day -away from the extra 'be a likeable person' workshops: If I got that job.

Now, I'm willing to work a sliding scale of hours for this fast food restaraunt -but my case manager is asking me to look for a second job as well. And the option she gave me today is very frank on that: "Or cancel your cash assistance."

Options? I'm reminding you about your GED.

I can try substituting job class activities with GED classes, although I don't need them, and signing into vocational counseling to asses where I can direct myself career wise -so that they can put me into training courses paid by the state. This is only an exchange for one time spent over the other.

I was already sitting there with that counselor and had an anxiety attack. I told her I can't see into the future well, and that I have no idea where I will be after January due to the child -but that IMPORTANTLY, I AM UNWILLING TO DEDICATE MYSELF AND TIME TO SOMETHING BECAUSE.. No thank you, no. The underlying emotion is that I am simply afraid -do not know how to manage myself, my time, that I mostly do not know how to cope right now. Especially not with added responsibilities when everything I'm begging for centers on calm, uncluttered, stability in my own nest. I need a nest.

Perhaps I was considering counseling. I need to reschedule my baby health appointment. I missed it yesterday because I was at orientation. My free medical care is being a finicky bitch about the technicals on being applicable. stress.

I will work part time with occasional overtime, but I will not work at the end of December, and I will not work in January.

Why did they tell me that they think I'm capable of working up to the day of my delivery? How do I think that's cruel? But they are right. I probably would, except that I am choosing not to. Which will provoke penalties through the system.

Now is not a good time for anything.

I suppose my case is already under review considering Jared just landed two new jobs, and we have no bills to consistently pay yet. No rental oblgiations because the paperwork on our low income house hasn't processed yet. I also think we may not qualify for this awesome nice apartment if we have so much income NOW.


i have decided to bunk cash assistance.

My thought process towards this one very single decision has been condensed.

I made a cucumber sandwich. And it was disgusting.

My hair took to life this morning. Not speaking for the rest of me.

I had my baby shower. I wanted it to be emotionally beautiful. I was depending on it to be beautiful. I didn't realize how much of a mental breakdown we were about to experience. And so very typically/ my baby shower day was the cesspool climax scenario for anyone who wanted something bad to happen. I'm really dissappointed in certain people that hugged me on camera but took each other out the back door to discuss things that are a completely opposite nature from love.

Three days up to the babyshower -sour things were brewing. I'd taken myself away for a time period because I knew it was the healthiest thing for me. In the aftermath I had to listen to the legal plans of my in-laws on taking away my child if I don't stay in check.

I have no drug addiction. Money nor drink or a sloth addiction. I am not abusive. I had a mental break. Not quite a breakDOWN. But a faltering crack large enough for me to identify IN TIME i tell you, in time. Which is why I had left. Though I never took away the option of contacting me. And while I was gone, I called several times. no one would answer. dick.

Now I have to be on my way to job class. I'd like to find someone to talk to, but everyone around me can't keep from getting involved/and I hate to stir things further.




it was the ugliest donkey he had ever seen



well, so lah, Shaina.

As a person


I'm a terrible recluse. i want to write. horror. child fantasy. i love watching movies while i crochet. i'm pregnant and can't get a job in smalltown palmer. alaska. i hope to sell these afghans i make. i live in someone else's garage. but i'm waiting for better.