Mortaine’s Blog

I have 1 chapter left to write in An Eye for an Eye, but it’s a chapter that I will be better able to write after I’m done editing and rewriting the rest of the book, so I hereby declare myself officially finished and now ready to get on with the business of editing!

First I dreamed I was a bisexual teenager “experimenting” with some girls and generally having a grand ol’ time.

I should have stopped there. Right then.

But instead I woke up with terrible abdominal cramps (couldn’t tell if they were digestive or menstrual, though at times it really doesn’t matter). Went to the bathroom and nearly threw up. I’ll spare you the details, but it was not fun.

Then I went back to bed and dreamed that I was a teenaged girl who was repeatedly abused by her stepfather, and that we were out camping with one of his buddies (? or possibly accomplices in a crime spree– they seemed to want to lie low). We were going to move out after dark (though not before they would rape me a few times, for fun). I somehow got my hands on the rifle they had with them, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually shoot them; I just fired “test shots” into the air. I eventually got myself over to a group of Boy Scouts, who I begged to help me, even though I was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t tell them why (stepdad had just shown up at their campsite). When the Boy Scouts told me to go back to my own camp, I went to the campsite next door, where a gay group was having a campout. I managed to get across to them that I was in trouble and needed to not return with my stepdad, and they didn’t even need me to tell them why. They just accepted that there was something wrong and stood up to the stepfather for me, facing him down and telling him I wasn’t going home with him. Just when I was finally safe and they were telling me about how they had, each of them, had to make some kind of break with their parents, I woke up.

There is very little in the world worse than waking up from a dream in which you’ve been violated and having your husband, someone you love and trust, be roaming his hands over you and wanting morning sex. Because I can’t do it– the thought makes me recoil because my brain is still firing synapses of violation, and just the roaming-hands is frightening enough, yet I don’t want to scream “GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME” because it’s not like it’s his fault I had a bad dream. But this morning,I almost gave him a full-on elbow/body-block to shove him away, I was so freaked out. I didn’t, and maybe I should have, because I never ever ever want to be feeling that way for real and not fight back.

I need a good “survivor” userpic.

This post yesterday (about Pearls Before Swine) was not an isolated incident. If it had been, I wouldn’t have minded (much). The quality of the comic has been going steadily downhill, although the recent Pig/Caterpillar storyline was cute. But no, I’ve been irritated with this strip since December; it’s been on probation since then, and I’ve gone entire weeks without reading it, and never felt I’d missed anything.

I realize most humor makes fun of someone. But I also have no patience for humor that makes fun of speech impediments. Daffy Duck SUCKS. There. I said it. I said it and I’m not sorry.

Pearls Before Swine is now officially off my bookmarks, because SPEECH IMPEDIMENTS ARE NOT FUNNY!

Stupid fuck.