Friday, September 30, 2011

sick of always hearing act your age

Methinks a ninja beat me up in my sleep, for I awoke with a fat lip and a sore bump on my forehead. HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN? I don't... get it.

I am way too excited for this dumb ace bandage to come off so I can use my NEW LEG! Yes boys and girls, I actually got a new prosthetic leg installed, properly fitted to suit a GIANT RIFLE! PA-CHOW. Naw. Just my same boring leg sans cysts. But it still hurts, and apparently I need to check my temperature; if I have a fever I might have an INFECTION.

But I cannnnnnnnnot wait to use my leg free of pain again! I will jump up and down in jovial glee! I will catapult into the air without a care! I WILL RUN FARTHER THAN FORREST GUMP, and squeal in jubilant victory that I didn't end up like Lieutenant Dan! THE WORLD IS MY BURRITO! AHAH-HAH, AH-HAHHAH..... ah.

I can already feel my mood improving! Sucks how physical problems affect you mentally... my mind and mood was imprisoned for two years. Now I can get the jobs, make the bucks, get my own place, live my life, get on with the show... and once everything gets settled, I can pay back the people who I care for the most. Not by buying them useless shit, more like take them out and have MEEEAAAAGICAL MOMENTS. Speaking of which, I really need to geek out soon and go to the Harry Potter themepark. And the DALI MUSEUM!

In lieu of today's discovery, I would like to proudly present:

Thursday, September 29, 2011

vicodin makes me feel very warm..

also, crutches are pesky.

listening to lots of tunes and sippin' 7-Up.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


I am barely hanging in there. After a solid month of dealing with hospitals, doctors, $$$, insurance, phone calls, stupidity, frustration and blahdeeblahblah – all of this quite soberly with the end result of surgery tomorrow at 5am, my brain wants to explode but I'm trying to gently sweet talk it by serenading it softly with 'it'll all be okay soon.' Rather unfortunately, my mom has been extra testy about the whole ordeal, which I can understand her frustration (as it coincides with mine – and when any two frustrations collide they can headbutt each other...) but it doesn't, nor hasn't made this entire debacle any easier; everything has been turning into an argument when really, neither person is at fault, it's this failed system of 'ring around the rosey' healthcare that is tying our horns together.
While I've been busting ass already at a new job which involves waking up at 5:15 to catch two buses from 6am-7am, let's take today into account: after working 7:30am to 2:45pm straight with no breaks (I don't smoke anymore, so no excuse for any when you're working in a kitchen...) I walked a mile to the ortho for a pre-appointment, then a mile to the bus stop in 95 degrees of murderous heat, sweating like a gypsy.
I have tried my damndest to not show how tired, exhausted, and confused I have felt... and does it put me a little on edge? You betcha. But then the broken record gets stuck into a 'this is all your responsibility' loop … in terms of everything dealing with the leg, which I know, and have been trying to take care of everything, all the millions things my boggled head must remember to do, but doctors and secretaries (and the allotted ridiculous 8am to 4:30pm time slot to speak with them, proving difficult in these days of non-stop movement) make it all into a horrid ring-around of a circus.
And guess what? Even then, on the phone, and in person, they FAIL to tell you important little tidbits, which my mom thinks of being a nurse, but then yells at me for not asking them these questions, when they would have never arose in my head (or just CAN'T because it's already too confused and there's no room for them to float up and out of my mouth!) - and the doctors don't even GIVE you moments to ASK anything. They pop in, say a paragraph (or not even,) then leave. You're kind of always left there with your mouth hanging open like, 'Did I get all the info I needed or am I forgetting something?' Like you pack your bags for a trip, stop to think, then get all the way to your destination to realize you forgot your underwear. (Although, if that happened to me, I would punch myself in the face.)
So. Here we go. Hopefully the final segment is eight hours away. Funny thing is, while I wasn't trying to be too nervous about my first real surgery... after all this, now I'm worried my stress levels are going to further complicate the process tomorrow......... I'm really hoping that's proved false.


Luckily due to all the non-excitement existing in my life at the moment, I've been having fascinating dreams, last night's being showcased as the best thus far: making out with Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. HUBBA-HUBBA. But as the downside (for my dreams produced nightly have an ultimate high point, and an ult. low,) after my make-outs, dressed scantily clad in a skin tight hot pink mini dress and high heels, I had to run for my life from a disgustingly foul Ron Jeremy-like cretin. I'd tell the night before lasts, but it's just toooo Rated NC-17. (It's what dreams are made of when you're asexual!)

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Jumpin' jehosaphat!

Leg is being scoped and the cysts are being surgically removed next Wednesday. This ortho said surprised: "The other ortho didn't suggest surgery? Really?" Yeah, really. It's going to be scoped because he doesn't think the cysts alone would be producing the major pains that have been felt from upper thigh to foot. Unfortunately the three tramadols a day isn't working today, having had to walk an hour (to the bus terminal from the ortho, then a mile home from where the bus dropped me off) and then sweep/vacuum all the floors in the house thoroughly for our guests this weekend (reminder: Simba is the sheddiest bear of a dog ever) and clean the bathrooms... I'm sitting here with an ice pack on the underside of my kneecap. Add in the first day of my girly thing and dealing with Simba's thunderstorm freakout = completely frazzled and not moving for the remainder of the evening. Have to get up at like six AM to go work my first day of work... while I'm going to suck up the pain and deal, I'm hoping they understand the need to not work on surgery day.

(Two of my MRI's --- saved a bunch of them. Interesting to look at!)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Who got a job? I got a job! I got a job hey hey hey hey...

GOT A JOB at a charming little place called the Wildflower Cafe! Went in and completely hit it off with my friend Michael's grandmother, who is the owner. Will be working in the kitchen with what seems to be the cutest and coolest older ladies on the block. (Kitchen manager: "Our humor get's kind of crude." Me: "Crude is good.") They really expressed the creativity part, making each plate exquisite, so I get to do quality food art! Will be nice to take more time into perfecting the food made, unlike past establishments where I had to make crappy food really fast. (Excluding Herrells from that statement, I made some damn sweet food art there.)
The two buses were easy peezy, I made a new friend named Sergio, and coincidentally enough he was at the bus terminal going home the same time as I, so we had some great conversation to and fro... also talked to an older couple and another lady from Pittsburgh, which were sweet and had wished me good luck. What wonderful glorious luck I had today... so amped that I'm still going to make an attempt at nabbing a second job. Working hard puts me at my happiest. WAH-LAH! (And thanks to my new pain meds, leggy is cooperating.)

boo to the pigs!

Tramadol has been added to my daily regimen of Tumeric Curcumin, Fish Oil, and my daily vitamins... PILLTOPIA. (Bleh, most of them are way too big.) Going to interview with a friend from Northampton's Grandma for a sweet position! Have to brave two buses there, but I WILL DO IT TO IT. Tomorrow is another ortho appointment. La dee dah, la dee dah.


Tuesday, September 20, 2011

could be in love with almost everyone

I think that people are the greatest fun,

AND - I - WILL - BE - ALONE - AGAIN, tonight, my dear.

(horn solo)

reelin' and rockin'

(I read 'Let It Blurt' [Lester Bangs Biography] senior year of college. I love this man.)

Monday, September 19, 2011


KD: Jamie, the healthcare system has turned into an absolute scam. Point being, I had my MRI, was told I had ganglion cysts... go to the orthopedist today, and he was a giant tool and just told me all I needed was physical therapy. I fucking cried. and then he told me there 'must be something wrong with me' if I'm referring to my pain as a 10 (on a scale of 1 to 10.) The cyst(s) are deep in the back of my right leg/back of my kneecap.


KD: Then I proceeded to scowl at him and the lady who took the co-pay on my way out, and have been miserable for the rest of the day... crying, eating a lot, sleeping, and trying to cheer myself up to no avail.

JP: There are awful doctors out there, get a second opinion for sure.

KD: i was SO FUCKING CERTAIN everything was going to be taken care of and that i'd get whatever this giant bulgey feeling in my leg removed so my veins can stop bulging and pulsing outwards (and be discolored) and these fucking shooting pains from my thigh to my feet could stop. even my mom thinks we should maybe find someone else, she went with me, shes a nurse (chemo RN, but nevertheless) and she thought he was something, coming in there a fucking hour and a half after what appointment was scheduled to be at - and then running his fast trap and being a condescending asshole - while the dude shadowing him that came in prior (and felt my leg) seemed to show more sympathy and understanding than the actual doctor. I just felt completely and absolutely shut down.

JP: You really need a different doctor. Drs, especially older ones, think they can get away with this shit in this day and age.

KD: I felt as if I was almost giving him a death glare. I've already paid $170 of my own money for co-pays. Seriously cant stop crying, I can't deal with this bullshit anymore... it's weighed on my positive side so much all I can see is negative now. All I want to do is feel better and get a job and do well for myself again, and nothing wants to seem to let me do that for myself.

(Another friend, who has survived cancer)

CM: yeah, i'm not a big fan of doctors, more from having to visit them so much than for them not doing their job. wikipedia (my trusted source for everything) says surgery or draining is the way to get rid of those

KD: yeah, but he said he wouldnt do it. but the thing is, this fucking office didnt even know my fucking MRI existed until they read it on my patient forms i gave them, when they were supposed to have been referred from my primary.

I had the MRI. I had to call the 'primary' I was given from the ER to find out what was up, she phoned and said I had the cysts, she referred the douche, and when I called to set the appointment for this dude, they had me print out fill out the patient form, and it doesnt seem like he had any prior contact about my MRI then what I wrote down on the form/and he probably looked up right before walking in the room to talk to me.

CM: medical people put out a lot of bs. did you find another doctor to visit?

Welp. Mystery Diagnosis bullshit is BULLSHIT.

EDIT: Watching 'Animal Crackers' to feel better.

Part One:


Sunday, September 18, 2011

Phantogram is eargasmic.

I'll never forget cruising in my friend's car over a couple years ago listening to Phantogram on a warm spring day in West Hartford; he introduced me to them & gave me their first LP before 'Eyelid Movies' was out; only a few songs were on it, 'Mouthful of Diamonds' and 'When I'm Small' were rocked in my old New Britain apartment, but didn't get to hear 'Let Me Go' till about a year ago. Apparently they're gaining momentum and are up n' coming, so it'll be nice to hear new material!

songs unearthed from my past

They're here.

Watched that terrible Piranha 3-D movie with my mom tonight; disgustingly awful it was. Oh boy, skank and doofus beach party with mindless trance music gets busted by a bunch of bloody hungry CGI piranhas in which they dilacerate hoards of human bodies that really served no more of a purpose than to drunkenly talk about the size of each others boobs and dongs. Poor fake piranhas.
It did get me all interested in reading up on them though... one of their predators is, oddly enough, dolphins? And the species that is most meat maniacal is the red-bellied, which is primarily found in the Amazon River. They're the ones with the man-eating myth attached to them, but they really don't want anything to do with us:

In reality they're like the vultures of the sea. Give them some dead rotten meat and they'll have a tea party. (Reminds me of when I was little: going under water with a circle of friends, legs pretzeled, pretending one hand was a saucer, the other was the teacup...) ANYWAYS...

Now I want to see the 1978 version of Piranha.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Burgers and Bullshit.

A comment to THIS article:

"It seems that House Republicans want to return America to the days of Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle," when slaughterhouses were defined by unsafe working conditions, child labor and an utter absence of regulation. Given the frightening increase over the past decade in cases of e coli contamination, it is hard to imagine how even Republicans can justify deliberately endangering the safety of America's food supply.

Where exactly will America's wealthiest 0.1% get their food from?

Surely they don't all plan to hunt and slaughter the meat themselves."

My own take on this:
While both parties could be the culprits in this case, freakishly enough, Republicans make such a ruckus about being pro-life. So, they want the already overpopulated world to be even MORESO, to justifiably do what? Have sick, enslaved individuals? It's like they're out for human blood. It's like that Halloween episode of The Simpsons where they're grinding up the children into burgers. What the heck is going on? The 0.1% are proclaiming the rest of us have had it 'too easy' and should be treated even more harshly - like the cattle and poultry this nation is fed? I'm getting wearier by the minute with what I put into my body; I can't even take ibuprofen anymore for it's anti-inflammatory properties for my leg because it gives me horrible stomach pain, too afraid that if I keep at it, I'll burn a hole through my stomach. We are already so diseased... and will be very lucky to see how long our lifespans are thanks to big government pumping every younger generation fuller and fuller of absolute bullshit. (And stressing us out to where we pump ourselves full of even MORE toxins we SHOULDN'T be touching.) Honestly if I could reach out to my brothers and my sisters right now, the thing I want to express the most: please, please, please, limit your alcoholic and nicotine intakes. Please stop going crazy and binging on these things. Stop ANY sort of binging. Take care of yourselves. Live to give that 0.1% hell. Alright? Thank you.


drew this (without a blasted eraser) for miss haley morgan's birthday!

Friday, September 16, 2011

yes yes yes!

1. dream sequence last night into this morning: someone stalking me outside my house, woke up nerve-wracked, back to sleep to then dream myself into (a much younger) woody allen movie (in bed with him...) woke up again weirded out, then back to sleep to only conjure up a dream sequence of me shopping for random salad ingredients.

2. Watching a really silly Buster Keaton movie today, 'College,' a silent film made in 1926.

3. Ortho appointment scheduled for Monday (die evil battalion of ganglion cysts! Steve: "It's like you have gargoyles in your leg.") and was blessed with bountiful birthday wishes today in every form imaginable! gimp swimming to the tune of andrew bird, dinner out, ICE CREAM (!) The Notebook on the tele (even though that gets me all .... oh, you know.)

Twas a most satisfying birthday... although I am terribly missing Autumn... guess I'll have to do without it for now.

so blind them with kindness

Thursday, September 15, 2011

40 minutes.

okay, so TECHNICALLY it's not my birthday until approximately 8:04am in the morning, but doesn't everyone get the pre-birthday jitters with the whole clock striking twelve thing?

so, this is... my first soberly alone birthday in... seven years. I'm sitting here silently, watching Breaking Bad. While I'd normally gather up friends to celebrate... they're all... approximately 1,303 miles away, although of the couple new ones I have down here, yesterday I was treated to sushi and st. pete explorations after my 'magical rainbow imaging' - which brings me to what I really want on my birthday.

1. Results from my MRI - conclusive fucking evidence of what has plagued me for over two years. it's getting progressively uglier and more intolerable every friggin minute, and the giant machine that swallowed my leg and made extremely loud ERRRERRRERRRRRRERRR noises for twenty minutes (while producing a very odd tingly feeling in my leg) better show me what the hell is wrong, or I'm writing a letter to GE questioning their engineering (...I jest.)

EDIT: 12:30pm Results have been confirmed, I have a ganglion cyst in my knee, which is a tumor that will... obviously need to be removed surgically. How I trooped this out for two years now baffles the shit out of me. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger I guess.

2. A real, strong lead on a job. Preferably, a second interview with the Animal Hospital for the Veterinary Receptionist position. Or really, anything. Responses in the form of e-mails or phone calls, smoke signals, telepathic messages... but really, something I will be able to throw myself into asap, and if the results from #1 are not so great, something immobile - desk job of sorts: receptionist, secretary, even call centers. Gotta do what I can for the moment. I've been doing callbacks and everything I can fathom for the time being, I just need someone to a) take me on b) take me seriously... because dammit, I've been serious. Serious to the point where as much as I think I miss sedative endeavors, I'm happier thinking of myself as the total control freak that X's them all out because I need to know what's going on up there at all times. Can't have my own mind tricking me anymore.

3. All I really want gift-wise is hearing from friends and family... even estranged ones that, for some reason or other at some point, got completely disconnected. Presumably, for something stupid that I did. (Not all of course, some could just be distance related, but let's stay on topic about the stupidity...) Old me had a really difficult time owning up to her own dumbass actions, and losing these people ... was the unfortunate end result. My stubborn ass refused to see the wrong it had caused in the past. I'm no saint, and if I ever stupidly painted myself as one, well... you probably deciphered the underlying truth in any idiotic statement or justification 'old me' made. I really miss a lot of people I can't seem to get through to anymore... but I was blind to the hurt I may have caused others. While I don't know how to necessarily fix them (I am no 'My Name is Earl') If I could just get a 'hello' out of some of these people... I would like to start back from the beginning. I mean, I'm super faraway now in crazy Scientologist Clearwater-ville (which until a few days ago didn't know is pretty much their main hub for hubbard) ... I can't just have a little bit of correspondence with people I care about? I do worry about everyone becoming more robotic, and giving up on writing notes to people THEY care about. C'mon people, the postal service is going under for chrissake. Least we could do is send more [post]cards or just plain ol' pieces of lined paper with any sort of scribble one can elicit.
EDIT: I really shouldn't completely blame me for it all, some of these people could use to grow up, along with myself.

4. Ice Cream. This is self explanatory.

5. I decided to list this one, even though I already got it a couple hours ago. While the health insurance that was instated by my fathers company is only supposed to cover me till I'm 26, I worried it would run out tomorrow and I wouldn't be able to progress with the already many steps I've taken to heal my leg. The very cordial Cigna lady told me on the phone tonight that I am covered until the end of the month. I told her that was the best birthday present ever, and she wished me a happy one. After hanging up, I exclaimed 'HALLELUJAH!' out loud. My anxiety over getting this settled in the remainder of this month is still present, but my present to myself today: forgetting anxiety for one day, and attempting to just really enjoy... life.

It's midnight. Hooray.

Monday, September 12, 2011

is it Friday yet?

listening to beirut after an incredibly full day of walking through clearwater, braving florida's mass transit, experiencing, interviewing, and getting to know what will hopefully be my next job venture while applying in person to other places and [after I walked my mile home] online, had a wonderful dinner [like every night so far] with my mother, steve, and simba, who are now my closest most wonderful friends.

turning 26 in three days. first low-key birthday in a while. it's good enough for me.

Nay those naysayers,

for Weird Al is truly a genius.
(and IMO, cooler than Bob Dylan. YUP.)

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Danny and Annie

so, so, so beautiful.

Friday, September 9, 2011

You can see the universe in their eyes.

This generation got no destination to hold

pick up the cry.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

living in a loveless labyrinth.

Hey America, look how 'super posi' our twenty-something generation is... or at least, our attempts to be.

KD: all i wish at this point is that I could find the love of my life, move in together, pool all the money we make together, even if it is just menial jobs, whatever we can manage... and live equally and happily.

MJ: good luck. I'm never gonna have that. I give up.

KD: Give up what?

MJ: looking for that. looking for a partner. I don't even assume it anymore.
I don't look at someone I'm dating at all in terms of a lifelong relationship. I'm just with someone until I'm not.

KD: I try to remain confident that it's out there. I don't agree with our generation and it's 'this person this day' and 'that person the next.' I need to know there is still old-fashioned trust, love, and admiration.

MJ: I wish you best of luck.

KD: I hope you find something wonderful as well. Maybe it's just not meant to happen yet?

MJ: When then?

KD: I know... I know...


I am so tired of everyone being fucked over by the system.
I am so tired of people fucking over other people.
I am so tired of the COMPLETE INCOMPETENCE OF THE HEALTHCARE SYSTEM and the INSURANCE COMPANIES who can't fucking COMMUNICATE with each other PROPERLY so it DOESN'T GO THROUGH and -------------

edit: 10:13pm. Talked to a nice Cigna customer service employee, understand a bit more, but this is all still so baffling. Bit more calm now.....

(they still want us gone though. this i know.)

Unlock the box your heart's encased...

Now that I'm heavily invested in the process of detoxifying myself [having basically ousted everything toxic from intake - currently just taking vitamins, Turmeric Curcumin, and Ibuprofen while getting a decent diet of fruits, veggies, and protein] I feel guilty after drinking four non-caffeinated cans of diet soda... which I plead guilty as charged of this evening, after telling myself not to. Now my stomach hurts.
Finally feeling true clarity again. It's... astounding, and not easily put into words. Ever so slowly getting the itch to write again... it came out tonight in the form of tweeting jokes about the GOP debate, but nevertheless, it was omnipresent. That general intoxicating feeling that I get through quirk - the melange of words bounding through my head again. My poor head... which was becoming more damaged with every drop, butt, and bic. Unfathomable, the personal hell I was entrapped inside. Everything was 'drone on the past, no, how can I think about the future when this and that and ---' CUT THE CORD. Cut the shit. Extricate, alleviate.
The anxiety is still existent, but it's slowly diminishing, and making way for leaps and bounds, chutes and ladders. At the moment, I am happy to report that a calm collective aura has washed over by mind, soul, and body, and for the first time, I will say with honest deliverance, Thank God.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

"Kiss me and you'll know how important I am."

Right around this time two years ago, I snuggled up during cool nights in my apartment on Williams Street with whiskey and Sylvia Plath's Unabridged Journals. Here are some of my favorite excerpts:

"With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand ... hopeless from the start. A story, a picture, can renew sensation a little, but not enough, not enough. Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die."

"I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time..."

"There are times when a feeling of expectancy comes to me, as if something is there, beneath the surface of my understanding, waiting for me to grasp it. It is the same tantalizing sensation when you almost remember a name, but don't quite reach it. I can feel it when I think of human beings, of the hints of evolution suggested by the removal of wisdom teeth, the narrowing of the jaw no longer needed to chew such roughage as it was accustomed to; the gradual disappearance of hair from the human body; the adjustment of the human eye to the fine print, the swift, colored motion of the twentieth century. The feeling comes, vague and nebulous, when I consider the prolonged adolesence of our species; the rites of birth, marriage and death; all the primitive, barbaric ceremonies streamlined to modern times. Almost, I think, the unreasoning, bestial purity was best. Oh, something is there, waiting for me. Perhaps someday the revelation will burst in upon me and I will see the other side of this monumental grotesque joke. And then I'll laugh. And then I'll know what life is."

"A little thing, like children putting flowers in my hair, can fill up the widening cracks in my self-assurance like soothing lanolin. I was sitting out on the steps today, uneasy with fear and discontent. Peter, (the little boy-across-the-street) with the pointed pale face, the grave blue eyes and the slow fragile smile came bringing his adorable sister Libby of the flaxen braids and the firm, lyrically-formed child-body. They stood shyly for a little, and then Peter picked a white petunia and put it in my hair. Thus began an enchanting game, where I sat very still, while Libby ran to and fro gathering petunias, and Peter stood by my side, arranging the blossoms. I closed my eyes to feel more keenly the lovely delicate-child-hands, gently tucking flower after flower into my curls. "And now a white one," the lisp was soft and tender. Pink, crimson, scarlet, white ... the faint pungent odor of the petunias was hushed and sweet. And all my hurts were smoothed away. Something about the frank, guileless blue eyes, the beautiful young bodies, the brief scent of the dying flowers smote me like the clean quick cut of a knife. And the blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain."

"There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears."

she claims society is just a fever dream

Avec mes souvenirs, j'ai allumé le feu

Monday, September 5, 2011

if you paint it, they will come.

While trying to think of long term careers I would really enjoy doing, I honestly think it would be creating art with senior citizens, autistic children, anyone with disabilities.... that would be MY perfect job. Now I must seek it out and find it... while working whatever job I can get my hands on till then. Finding someone to collaborate with me would be nice: two heads are better than one. (Additional bonus if it's an attractive creative studly male.)

Sunday, September 4, 2011

the brace of grace

Oh boy look at how HAPPY I AM!!!!!!

This be my situation right now. Hospital we went to didn't have an MRI machine, so I have to call an ortho first thing on Tuesday (yes thank you Labor Day weekend) and hopefully will be getting in shortly thereafter because this is painful as h-e-double hockey sticks and it would be nice to not feel so gosh darn immobile. There's only so much internet television one can consume (I watch three episodes of something and then wish I could just get up and DO something) Did get up today to help clean a little... we're having guests today and I wish I wasn't like this... but even just cleaning the bathroom (have to take the brace off to sleep, and hadn't put it on yet, was leaning/bending my legs to get every hard to reach spots on/in the toilet and bathtub) and afterwards... it just killed. Took my anti-inflammatorys, laced up the brace... and the Catch 22 about it is, while the pressure makes it feel somewhat better, it also makes it ache/pulsate more. So... apparently my mothers friend and her daughter arrives in a half an hour and is staying the night. The other thing is, I haven't been drinking/obviously shouldn't be drinking in this situation anyways... BUT BOY DO I WISH I COULD. (Or at least had some herbs to aide me... sigh...)


MISSING MY COLLEGE BROTHERS who made '05 to '07 so grand.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

If I seem edgy...

Morale boosters

Coach of the Mens Soccer Team I reported for:

CG: "Me and my staff could not understand it (in reference to whom I was dating) We all thought you were super hot.

Having the most HILARIOUS conversation with him.

but he did say:

CG: You are.. 1.. too gorgeous 2. too intelligent 3. too passionate and 4... too good for most guys. there is a real man out there who would die for you. who would adore you, who would seduce you, who would wake up every morning.. being a happier person because he fell asleep with you on his mind..



shoegaze fights with other genres to be my favorite... this song of this particular band ive just learned of... makes my loins tingle.

Friday, September 2, 2011

RESOLVE! and healing...

No adventuring for me this holiday weekend. After over two years of trooping out the pain after a very terrible leg injury, it is at it's worst: crying in agony today, for the first time I think I can say from a scale of 1 to 10, it's a definitive 10... and it absolutely kills to put pressure on it. Went to a clinic tonight, said I should have an MRI, so that's first thing tomorrow. In bed with it propped, medicated, and heated. Ready to have the mystery diagnosis solved; this has definitely played into my mental misery. It's nice to have people finally taking me seriously... it's unbelievable how you have cold, cold people tell you 'you're fine' for so long, tell you to shut up, you endure a private personal pain, and then just snap. Which I did today. My gut feeling is I might be off both feet for a while, although you know me. I'll try to learn the whole crutches deal ASAP.

(might have damaged the lateral collateral ligament and the fibula)

climatic instrumental moments

Whoever hasn't listened to Mono yet needs to get on it right n' quick:

is this how you do it?

Yesterday was extra fantastic due to my new friend who just moved here from Alabama. We joy rode to the beach, went to the coolest hookah bar imaginable [which is going to become a weekly staple] and even after he dropped me off tonight, serenaded me with songs on his guitar on skype. In the words of Teen Girl Squad... "SOOOOOO GOOD!"

living in the skyyyyy

screw all the other rainbow songs,
this one takes the cake.

Thursday, September 1, 2011


now for something completely different:

ohhhhh brother.

God's Away On Business.

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