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Friday, October 26, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Ugh, I hate you guys.
Today was the most annoying day I've had in a while. Maybe.
Early, early morning I went to the doctor for my appointment. I was twitchy and too-awake the entire time because I was up all night, and as I told him, wanted to book it so I could go to bed.
Afterward, I thought a trip to the wasteland that is WalMart couldn't hurt. This usually isn't my attitude, especially during the October weather and I'm in August clothing, but whatever. I needed a goldfish.
Yeah. I locked my keys in the car. Wandering back and forth in the store without socks and wearing stiff shoes, my feet bled. I lost a $20 that was in my pocket, and by the time I called a locksmith (thought you'd get a kick out of that, Aaron), I had sworn vendetta towards everyone I called who wasn't home or picking up their phone.
I had to return everything I bought but the goldfish to pay him the first payment I now owe this guy, who in another life (high school) chased me down in a truck because I was illegally trespassing, but either it was the uncontrollable twitching in my eye, or the fact that I had a bra clearly sitting in my passenger seat, because he told me "don't worry about it".
I'm eating now, trying not to fall asleep, and getting ready to run back into town to go ahead and pay the rest of it.
Aaron, was gonna send you a text about this, but you can only say 'fuck' so many times before it loses all meaning. I hate you guys. Fuck.
Early, early morning I went to the doctor for my appointment. I was twitchy and too-awake the entire time because I was up all night, and as I told him, wanted to book it so I could go to bed.
Afterward, I thought a trip to the wasteland that is WalMart couldn't hurt. This usually isn't my attitude, especially during the October weather and I'm in August clothing, but whatever. I needed a goldfish.
Yeah. I locked my keys in the car. Wandering back and forth in the store without socks and wearing stiff shoes, my feet bled. I lost a $20 that was in my pocket, and by the time I called a locksmith (thought you'd get a kick out of that, Aaron), I had sworn vendetta towards everyone I called who wasn't home or picking up their phone.
I had to return everything I bought but the goldfish to pay him the first payment I now owe this guy, who in another life (high school) chased me down in a truck because I was illegally trespassing, but either it was the uncontrollable twitching in my eye, or the fact that I had a bra clearly sitting in my passenger seat, because he told me "don't worry about it".
I'm eating now, trying not to fall asleep, and getting ready to run back into town to go ahead and pay the rest of it.
Aaron, was gonna send you a text about this, but you can only say 'fuck' so many times before it loses all meaning. I hate you guys. Fuck.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Hey kids, I'm still alive.
October is hella busy, hella fun, so I haven't been able to keep up on my interwebbings as usually scheduled.
Quick things:
October is hella busy, hella fun, so I haven't been able to keep up on my interwebbings as usually scheduled.
Quick things:
- Abandonment issues, for the lulz
- Aaron, I'm gonna give you a call Wednesday around six because I have BRAKING NEWS
- My dating life still sucks, but at least I'm taking people down with me
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Everything floats down here
Aaron came down from Joplin on Saturday, and after wandering Nixa for a while, I met him at the mall for some mediocre hijinks. About the only thing worth noting about that was as a birthday present for a friend who's party we were going to later, I bought a paddle.
Afterward, we went to the cemetery to look at Confederates, then the park/art museum, which was even more mediocre because there was construction and unlike the last time, in which I wandered about by my lonesome, there was no one to let us in.
We did what any rational adult would have done in that situation: We nabbed a spotlight and took to the sewers.
It was hard to breathe down there, and very dark. The last time I'd gone I didn't have a flashlight, and just assumed that this underground tunnel ended somewhere, and it did; in a pile of human feces, graffiti glorifying murder and fellatio (in that order), and the car key falling off of Aaron's lanyard.
The sun was going down by the time we discovered what had happened, and by our second trip down (a search and rescue mission), no dice. Wheezing from the noxious fumes we'd just willingly subjected ourselves to, which being of a certain age bracket isn't too bad a thing, we called road service who promptly told us to fuck off.
I called my friends to help, even my dad, in search of a slim jim. Again, no dice, so we just relied on some buddies who'd already gotten drunk to come pick us up. The wait was spent in a Mexican restaurant, eating with our sewer hands and listening to the Mexican National Anthem on the jukebox.
We went to a shitty hick club, one of dozens you can find in Springfield, and aside from enabling my innocent young friend to be molested by the paddle I'd bought unintentionally for her boyfriend (apparently), there wasn't much to say about that aside from giving my phone number away to a cute boy with too many holes in his face, running into a friend of the family, and getting high in the bathroom.
I was too drunk to remember much of what happened, or at least the order. Aaron and I got lost in Springfield after deciding the best choice of action would be to drive an hour away for keys in my unreliable car, and then an hour back, again in my unreliable car.
On the way back, maybe five o'clock in the morning, Aaron and I were stupid from the kind of tired you can only get from staying awake long enough to be sober again. The highway would have been lulling, hypnotic, if my car didn't rattle in a disturbing way whenever it goes over 45.
As usual our peace of mind didn't last. Flashing lights, and shining glass on the road, lead us to a semi-truck that had tipped to its side.
Of course we pulled over to help. The driver had a broken collarbone but didn't seem too hurt, so we stayed until moar people arrived, I left my first aide kit, and we continued onward.
This was Saturday. Today is Sunday, and after having dinner with an apparently amiable ex-boyfriend's family (which really was nice, what with somewhat masochistic renewed interest and all), I am exhausted and still have a sore throat. My voice has been going all day, and Aaron is having troubles too. I'm guessing from the sewer, cheap weed, or cigarette smoke. Take your pick.
How was your weekend?
Afterward, we went to the cemetery to look at Confederates, then the park/art museum, which was even more mediocre because there was construction and unlike the last time, in which I wandered about by my lonesome, there was no one to let us in.
We did what any rational adult would have done in that situation: We nabbed a spotlight and took to the sewers.
It was hard to breathe down there, and very dark. The last time I'd gone I didn't have a flashlight, and just assumed that this underground tunnel ended somewhere, and it did; in a pile of human feces, graffiti glorifying murder and fellatio (in that order), and the car key falling off of Aaron's lanyard.
The sun was going down by the time we discovered what had happened, and by our second trip down (a search and rescue mission), no dice. Wheezing from the noxious fumes we'd just willingly subjected ourselves to, which being of a certain age bracket isn't too bad a thing, we called road service who promptly told us to fuck off.
I called my friends to help, even my dad, in search of a slim jim. Again, no dice, so we just relied on some buddies who'd already gotten drunk to come pick us up. The wait was spent in a Mexican restaurant, eating with our sewer hands and listening to the Mexican National Anthem on the jukebox.
We went to a shitty hick club, one of dozens you can find in Springfield, and aside from enabling my innocent young friend to be molested by the paddle I'd bought unintentionally for her boyfriend (apparently), there wasn't much to say about that aside from giving my phone number away to a cute boy with too many holes in his face, running into a friend of the family, and getting high in the bathroom.
I was too drunk to remember much of what happened, or at least the order. Aaron and I got lost in Springfield after deciding the best choice of action would be to drive an hour away for keys in my unreliable car, and then an hour back, again in my unreliable car.
On the way back, maybe five o'clock in the morning, Aaron and I were stupid from the kind of tired you can only get from staying awake long enough to be sober again. The highway would have been lulling, hypnotic, if my car didn't rattle in a disturbing way whenever it goes over 45.
As usual our peace of mind didn't last. Flashing lights, and shining glass on the road, lead us to a semi-truck that had tipped to its side.
Of course we pulled over to help. The driver had a broken collarbone but didn't seem too hurt, so we stayed until moar people arrived, I left my first aide kit, and we continued onward.
This was Saturday. Today is Sunday, and after having dinner with an apparently amiable ex-boyfriend's family (which really was nice, what with somewhat masochistic renewed interest and all), I am exhausted and still have a sore throat. My voice has been going all day, and Aaron is having troubles too. I'm guessing from the sewer, cheap weed, or cigarette smoke. Take your pick.
How was your weekend?
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Somewhere out there, there's a woman keeps up with her interweb meanderings, has a perfectly organized social calendar, and never ever feels the urge to slap her associates silly just because they have the slappable eagerness of a squirmy, wiggly puppy.
Somebody find this woman for me, I'll pull a Nicholas Cage in Face Off, or at least hire this bitch.
Anyway. Book meme.
A book that made you cry:
Worm, and the Wizard of Oz. The Tin Man gave me nightmares after I read what he did to those mice and that cat with his hatchet.
A book that scared you:
The Stand. I read this book in the fifth grade, and was doing fine until the part when one of the protagonists has to make his way through a pitch black tunnel full of bodies. Since then, scenes from movies that have this sort of device make me squirmy. 28 Weeks Later, anyone? Eugh.
A book that made you laugh:
The Greedy Bastard Tour Diary
A book that disgusted you:
I don't remember the name of the book, but it was one of the first real, gritty, non-pulp crime novels I ever read. An albino girl I went to school with read it with me during lunch, sixth or seventh grade, and during a very graphic chapter including unintentional cannibalism followed by brisket sex, I threw up my square pizza and Fruitopia.
A book you loved in elementary school:
Interview With a (the?) Vampire. The Subtle Knife. It's still one of my favorite books, and I can't wait until the film adaptation.
A book you loved in middle school or junior high school:
When Darkness Loves Us, The Jungle Book
A book you loved in high school:
Psycho, Papillon, The Gunslinger
A book you hated in high school:
I Heard the Owl Call My Name, Romeo and Juliet
A book you loved in college:
The Fox and the Hound, Alex and Alexandria
A book that challenged your identity:
The Yellow Room
A series that you love:
The Thomas Covenant Chronicles. I love these books, and hate that the first editions have been tragically thrown out. My absolute favorites of any literature ever.
Your favorite horror book:
Lord Foul's Bane - see above
Your favorite science fiction book:
Contact Imminent
Your favorite fantasy:
The Black Swan
Your favorite mystery:
The Dick Tracy Anthology
Your favorite biography:
Me - a bio of Kath Hepburn. Alex and Alexandria was another favorite.
Your favorite "coming of age" book:
Ordinary People
Your favorite classic:
Murders in the Rue Morgue
Your favorite romance book:
Interview with a (the?) Vampire
Somebody find this woman for me, I'll pull a Nicholas Cage in Face Off, or at least hire this bitch.
Anyway. Book meme.
A book that made you cry:
Worm, and the Wizard of Oz. The Tin Man gave me nightmares after I read what he did to those mice and that cat with his hatchet.
A book that scared you:
The Stand. I read this book in the fifth grade, and was doing fine until the part when one of the protagonists has to make his way through a pitch black tunnel full of bodies. Since then, scenes from movies that have this sort of device make me squirmy. 28 Weeks Later, anyone? Eugh.
A book that made you laugh:
The Greedy Bastard Tour Diary
A book that disgusted you:
I don't remember the name of the book, but it was one of the first real, gritty, non-pulp crime novels I ever read. An albino girl I went to school with read it with me during lunch, sixth or seventh grade, and during a very graphic chapter including unintentional cannibalism followed by brisket sex, I threw up my square pizza and Fruitopia.
A book you loved in elementary school:
Interview With a (the?) Vampire. The Subtle Knife. It's still one of my favorite books, and I can't wait until the film adaptation.
A book you loved in middle school or junior high school:
When Darkness Loves Us, The Jungle Book
A book you loved in high school:
Psycho, Papillon, The Gunslinger
A book you hated in high school:
I Heard the Owl Call My Name, Romeo and Juliet
A book you loved in college:
The Fox and the Hound, Alex and Alexandria
A book that challenged your identity:
The Yellow Room
A series that you love:
The Thomas Covenant Chronicles. I love these books, and hate that the first editions have been tragically thrown out. My absolute favorites of any literature ever.
Your favorite horror book:
Lord Foul's Bane - see above
Your favorite science fiction book:
Contact Imminent
Your favorite fantasy:
The Black Swan
Your favorite mystery:
The Dick Tracy Anthology
Your favorite biography:
Me - a bio of Kath Hepburn. Alex and Alexandria was another favorite.
Your favorite "coming of age" book:
Ordinary People
Your favorite classic:
Murders in the Rue Morgue
Your favorite romance book:
Interview with a (the?) Vampire
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Quick Update
Today I had my first day of outpatient care.
I woke up bright and early, took part I of my medication, brushed my hair and teeth, and got dressed in some of my favorite clothes. Aside from a brief internal debate regarding when we'll run out of water as an ecosystem (never, I'll drink elephant-poop-water like Bear if I have to), the morning went down like any day of school ever ought to.
If you've never visited the mental wing of a hospital, I suggest it. Everyone imagines screaming, hair-pulling geriatrics and anorexic pyrophiliacs, but couldn't be further from the truth: Even under the veil of lithium and some warmed blankets, there was a sense of calm that radiated from the place like purr from a kitten.
It was the outpatient office that made me remember why I carry mace.
There were two men, one the patient and the other, I'm guessing by his age to be either younger brother or state-sponsored caretaker. Both were hunched over and glaring, regarding myself and the bell-like ass of the woman next to me like we were gnats.
Thunder and the force of heavily falling rain made everything abuzz, giving the building a nervous energy. The 3d puzzle of a boat on my doctor's wall trembled and for a while, we just discussed the weather and why staying in bed would have been the better option for the morning.
On my way out, a woman who looked atavistic walked straight towards me. I don't mean that in the way the people I attended high school looked atavistic, but in a true, slack-jawed, empty-eyed, soulless way. Another doctor, at the end of the hall, told me to scoot to the side, so I flattened myself to the wall as this woman shuffles past; turning left as he directs her to, in the beginning of what I assume to be a lap around the square shaped office.
It reminded me of two things. Firstly, never agree to any further medication, and secondly, I want to be either a zombie or a zombie hunter this Halloween.
Anyone know where one can procure a used, preferably brain-encrusted cricket bat?
I woke up bright and early, took part I of my medication, brushed my hair and teeth, and got dressed in some of my favorite clothes. Aside from a brief internal debate regarding when we'll run out of water as an ecosystem (never, I'll drink elephant-poop-water like Bear if I have to), the morning went down like any day of school ever ought to.
If you've never visited the mental wing of a hospital, I suggest it. Everyone imagines screaming, hair-pulling geriatrics and anorexic pyrophiliacs, but couldn't be further from the truth: Even under the veil of lithium and some warmed blankets, there was a sense of calm that radiated from the place like purr from a kitten.
It was the outpatient office that made me remember why I carry mace.
There were two men, one the patient and the other, I'm guessing by his age to be either younger brother or state-sponsored caretaker. Both were hunched over and glaring, regarding myself and the bell-like ass of the woman next to me like we were gnats.
Thunder and the force of heavily falling rain made everything abuzz, giving the building a nervous energy. The 3d puzzle of a boat on my doctor's wall trembled and for a while, we just discussed the weather and why staying in bed would have been the better option for the morning.
On my way out, a woman who looked atavistic walked straight towards me. I don't mean that in the way the people I attended high school looked atavistic, but in a true, slack-jawed, empty-eyed, soulless way. Another doctor, at the end of the hall, told me to scoot to the side, so I flattened myself to the wall as this woman shuffles past; turning left as he directs her to, in the beginning of what I assume to be a lap around the square shaped office.
It reminded me of two things. Firstly, never agree to any further medication, and secondly, I want to be either a zombie or a zombie hunter this Halloween.
Anyone know where one can procure a used, preferably brain-encrusted cricket bat?
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