what's in a name

i was kinda tempted the other day to change this blog's name to "confessions of a raving bitch," but that's already taken, sadly.

i'm having one of those "knock shit over left and right all over the damn house" days.  right after yesterday discovering that i've been working on the wrong chapter all week for my statistics class, so i've done absolutely FUCKINGZERO work that i actually should have been doing.  and, of course, since it takes me all seven days of the week to barely squeak by with my homework, classwork, and tests by the skin of my teeth anyway, realizing that i have three days to do all that was too much. i almost submitted drop-out forms right there.

i'm so tired of feeling like such a failure of life itself. pretty much from the day morning sickness hit when i was pregnant with Little Owl, i've been falling short left and right. she's 18 mos now; that's a lot of falling short.

when my financial aid check finally came in, i bought a juicer and a whole ton of dr. schultze's products to begin the huge detox project i've been needing. by day 2, i felt a little better. today's day 3, and the radioactive cloud that was fogging up my brain is gone. numbers aren't twisting themselves around to look like other numbers as often (which is how i screwed myself into doing totally wrong homework in the first place), letters sometimes actually make sense when i read them, i have some energy to go out and run an errand or two, and yesterday i haven't needed (like desperately needed) a nap despite waking up three hours earlier than usual.

and last night i listened to my holosync soundtrack for the first time in over two years, fell asleep with absolutely no trouble, and actually relaxed a bit. my school nightmare isn't crippling like it was last night. it's still overwhelming and i don't feel confident that i'll be able to do anything at all, but at least i don't want to curl up into a ball, cry my eyeballs out, and completely give up. how come no one ever told me that trying to get my damn degree was going to make me feel like worthless shit every damn day?

i never even re-enrolled because i wanted to. i did it because i was tired of being the stupid, pointless member of the family. i did it because i was tired of, "you're so smart, why didn't you ever do anything with it?" i did it so i could get a stupidass piece of paper to show that i'm something. and because not having any degree at all meant that i was trapped forever in the most menial, meaningless, lowest-paying and rewardless jobs for the rest of my life, which was just another way of saying that i am without merit or worth without a degree, and i was tired of it.

but seriously, fucking seriously, all i want to do is finish my fucking novels and publish them. and there's no time left over after taking care of: homework, Little Owl, the house, and getting just enough sleep to keep me running. and believe me, i trim sleep around the edges so much every so often i realize that i've whittled it to nothing and need a few days of dear-God-please-i'm-just-human, curl-up-and-wish-the-ground-would-swallow-me-up sleep. then it's back to scrambling desperately trying to only fall a little short.

no time for living.

the one about hiroshima

yeah, that was me about a week and a half ago.

this class is killing me.

i called it my "emotional hiroshima." of course, this pic was perfect because --if you're so inclined-- you can see the clown face right in the mushroom cloud itself.

such absurdity in the face of something we take so seriously. that's probably how i should be looking at it. my life won't end if i fail this class.  sure, i'll most likely be kicked out of school because of my crappy GPA, which means i'll be stuck with student loans and nothing to show for it, still amounting to nothing but a high school diploma in a family with nothing but multi-degree holders. hell, my baby sister's in her Master's program right now. and sure, it'll do a number on my self-image because let's face it, it's not like i'm really all that confident right now or feeling like i amount to anything worth counting. so far, i'm everything my parents drilled into me was beneath me. so maybe i'm pinning way too much on this class and my successful completing of it.

on the other hand, maybe i'm not?

mushroom cloud. bozo's face. sure, there might be nuclear winter, but at least the cloud's laughing, right?

chewing cud d'frog

so i'm taking this statistics class, right?

yeah, it's kicking my ass with boots the size of the moon.

i feel like the hugest failure. i can't keep up in class. it eats up so much of my time that Little Owl is being deprived of attention. i'm short-tempered from being sleep-deprived, stressed-out, and living in this constant state of panic. if i fail this class, or even get a D and need to repeat it, i'm going to be kicked out of school because i've already had to repeat 2 classes.

it's eating me up. i hate it. i don't know what to do about it. i'm staring yet more failure in the fucking eye and it's winning.

the iGoddess hatchling: the making of

it just occurred to me, just now, that maybe gestating the iGoddess hatchling took absolutely everything out of me emotionally and spiritually that was good is because, just like my fat stores and fluid and energy, her umbilical cord was also attached to my Funk because --as the most loved, anticipated, empowered, enlightened, cherished, magical child ever born-- she needed everything i had and more, because her own inner bonfire of juicyFunk is even more bombastic than mine will ever be? 

i forgot we are triune beings: body, mind, and spirit. there i was, thinking i was just physically growing a child in me when i should have remembered she was connected --is still connected-- to my entire being? 

as a pregnant woman needs to take supplements and pay attention to her calorie intake when she's pregnant and increase it to accommodate a fetus, i should have also been taking Funk supplements and increasing my own caloric Funk intake. 

and i didn't.

iGoddess II: The Search for Funk

lots of things going on. some are, for once in the history of iGoddess, not something i can freely write about here. i know, i know: this violates the sacrosanct idea that there are no secrets here on iGoddess, no suppression and no shame.

well, a practiced and well-versed Funkmaster knows that nothing is sacred. at some point in the future, i'll bring it all to light and laugh good-naturedly at my foolishness and endeavor to use it in some spontaneous bit of outrageously fantastic performance art.

in the meantime, tho...

the Funk and i are so far removed at the moment --and this moment has lasted a little over two years-- that i rather feel agnostic. there's been such silence for so long that i'm doubting my memories of Juicy Funk and the Jiggy Snake. did i hallucinate? was i mad? does it matter?

i said i'd be writing here more, and then i never came back. lots of stuff. more Burning Heaven to the Ground. and gestating the iGoddess Child became a spiritually wasting illness. it sapped so much out of me, my spirit is a dried husk.

more than one person's made the observation that the blazing bonfire that was Delena is now rather like a small mound of cold ash.

i don't want to be a barren wasteland of nonFunk. i don't like that i can't reach down into the depths of me and summon up a squeak --let alone a roar-- of juicyloamy, bombastic mindsplosions of gutteral passion. i don't like that there are no depths anymore at all. i've become a two-dimensional WYSIWYG.

so i'm coming back here, the closed circle, returning to the beginning. i've gotten out my bible, the televisionary oracle, as well as a few other books. i set up another supersecret blog to write about what cannot be written here, just so it has somewhere to go. and i'm going to plot my rejourney as i search out the Funk once again.

this land of grey agnostics sucks. i want Funk-gnostics instead.

[i also went back to my old URL because going back and editing all those links in three years' worth of blog posts was just too much of a pain in the ass.]