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17 July 2009 @ 08:12 pm
Julia from work almost definitely has piggy flu! Half her family's got it, and now she's got all the symptoms too so she went home in the afternoon. It's possible it's all in her head because she's the biggest hypochondriac I've ever known, but if she's been round a load of people hacking and spluttering in her face... oh well. Just a bad cold, right? It'll be quite exciting to be part of a pandemic. :P

I keep seeing the Desperate Romantics trailer and weeing myself a bit. If it's bad it's going to make me FURIOUS, possibly even more than The Mock-Tudors, but... I am shallow and Aidan Turner is beautiful AND HE'S PLAYING DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI OH GOD MY HEART IS GOING TO EXPLODE. The executive proucer said "Basically, it's Entourage with easels. Desperate Romantics paints a modern, vivid and irreverent portrait of this group of painters whose attitude to the establishment makes them comparable to the punks a hundred years later" so I'm REALLY not hopeful. :/

First night of the Proms now <3 while I finish D's birthday present.
 
 
17 July 2009 @ 08:57 am
Card from FedEx yesterday:

"Sorry we missed you. What would you like us to do?

We weren't able to deliver a shipment to you today. To arrange re-delivery, please visit the website uk.fedex.com/redelivery or call us on the telephone number provided and let us know which of the following options would be more convenient. Please quote the tracking number shown overleaf."

WHAT TRACKING NUMBER? OVERLEAF IS BLANK. THERE ARE EMPTY BOXES WHERE THE NUMBER SHOULD BE.


I also told the dope on the phone dealing with my dead camera AGAIN that I'd leave it in the porch to be collected while I was at work, which I did, but I still got a "sorry we missed you" card from them as well even though they must have seen the box when they sellotaped the card to my front door. o.O THE IDIOTS ARE WINNING.
 
 
Current Mood: aggravated
 
 
17 July 2009 @ 02:11 am
Thank you David, thank you Cherie! You are both just incredibly awesome, and I am so happy to know both of you. That package was perfectly-timed.

I will treasure the books. They are on the bookshelf next to Sargon's Cthulhu plushie and my Windstone dragons. Yeah, we're nerds here.

Very little is as cheering to my spirit as the presence of books.
 
 
Current Location: Morningstar Hall
Current Mood: geeky
 
 
16 July 2009 @ 08:45 pm
o_o  
I am so incredibly psyched for [info]startrekbigbang it's ridiculous. I have a plot! It seems to want to fit the right wordcount! I am looking forward to writing it! Unbelievable.

My wrist ached so bad today I wore the bandage. Now the bandage is icky and needs washing, but will buy another tomorrow to tide me over. Damn cold wet summer! *shakes fist*

Vapid icon is vapid and appropriate.
 
 
Current Location: Ushaw Moor
Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: Perfect - Princess Superstar
 
 
While I am sitting here with a fat cat in my lap, I will show you this helpful link.

Sargon talks about how to handle bill collectors.

He does this sort of thing for a living, so he has some useful information that y'all might not have come across. Thought you might be interested, since this is a bill-heavy time for most of us.
Tags:
 
 
Current Location: Morningstar Hall
Current Mood: crampy
Current Music: Paragon -- Armies of the Tyrant
 
 
16 July 2009 @ 02:53 am
Re: HP6 )

I also saw Torchwood 3 yesterday, not as ready to talk about that yet I think.
 
 
15 July 2009 @ 06:57 pm
He put a what in your where, now?  
That was an interesting visit.

The doctor, henceforth called "Boots," spent about half an hour discussing options and likely treatments with me. In the end, I elected the way of pain to begin with the least invasive option and work up from there. So: the Mirena IUD. And it frankly shocked the hell out of me when he indicated he could try to put it in today if I was comfortable with that. Which, not wanting to fuck with multiple appointments, I was.

Cut for anatomy. )

I am not in any real pain right now, but I am getting the occasional unpleasant sensation from down below, and if I move around my body tells me to go lay down right now. I think the latter may just be aftereffects from nerves, which were making me shake so badly in the waiting room that I couldn't read the book I was holding.

Anyway, the micro-doses the Mirena delivers directly to the uterine tissue will, in theory, lessen my periods significantly and hopefully eliminate them, without giving me any of the horrifying emotional effects of hormone pills. I know as many people this has worked for as people it has not worked for, so I am totally willing to give it some time to do its thing.

We did not discuss diagnostics in detail at this time. I will return to that issue with him the next time I see him, if we deem it necessary. It's probably either fucked hormones or fibroids, and neither condition will be worsened by this or kill me if left alone. Even with a diagnosis of either, we would be doing this same damn thing. If it stops this bleeding shit, I will happily leave it at that until menopause.

Overall, this guy was incredibly smart. He was on the team that studied the effectiveness of uterine ablation and discovered at the same time that the Mirena reduces excessive bleeding. Interesting story there. In short, he's the best damn GYN in the state, which I knew before I went to see him. For the sorts of things he does (ablation, sterilization, that sort of thing) he is one of the three most highly-trained guys in the country.

I have finally found a decent doctor, I think.

Doc Boots is very gentle and kind, he has soft hands, he's sweet, he listens and believes everything I say.

Extra-cool? The clinic attached to the Planned Parenthood he works at apparently provides extensive medical services for low-income women, including low-cost/free sterilization. I did not talk to him about this, didn't have time, but that information came from the website and from stuff in the waiting room. Next time I see him I will definitely be pestering him for more information about that. I don't need it, really, but there are lots of people who do.

But how cool is it that this guy is so passionate about health care -- good health care -- for poor women? The facility is also pretty Spanish-friendly. I really like this guy. He cares about women, and that is obvious.

I am still exhausted from the stress of the whole thing. It's not even a voluntary reaction, it's a stupid instinctive physical thing that I can't control, and it pisses me off. All I can do is go easy on myself and assume that next time, my lizard brain will remember that this wasn't so bad and will stop telling me to run away.

Thanks, everyone, for your support. Last night and this morning truly did suck, because anxiety is like that. Thanks, too, to the lovely friends who offered to go with me. If I had known there was going to be that kind of pain involved, I would have accepted, but I didn't know, and that turns out to have been okay anyway.

Thus I continue in my tradition of being stupidly proud of myself for doing shit that other adults do all the time.
 
 
Current Location: Atlantis, FL
Current Mood: amused and sore
Current Music: Nightwish -- Seven Days to the Wolves
 
 
16 July 2009 @ 12:13 am
We spent most of that giggling at inappropriately sexual things. Usual reaction, then. ;) Loved it! Possibly because I'm so over fandom and I don't care enough any more to pick the film apart and compare every single tiny thing to the book. It was entertaining, which is what I wanted, so SUCCESS!

Bit spoilery but it's not like anybody who cares hasn't read the book already )
 
 
14 July 2009 @ 09:46 pm
[info]riddled: oh my god
that
was so terrifying
[info]fei_lian: ...
wat
[info]riddled: i was doing dishes at the sink, and rosie came up behind me to blow bubbles in my face and offer me pez
which should have been a delightful charming moment
but i had my earbuds in, and was playing karma police at high volume, AND i'm already really bad at telling when someone is standing behind me
so i see these bubbles, and i'm confused, and i hear "julieeee" behind me
so i whirl around screaming
and splashing water everywhere from the bowl i am carrying
and warm water spills all over me and onto my feet, and i get even more confused
and scream even more
[info]fei_lian: ;lkj;lwka;lwek;jlk;lkjlkaweja;lkwjekajw;ke what is wrong with you
[info]riddled: AND EVERYONE COMES RUNNING TO THE KITCHEN TO SEE WHAT IN THE WORLD IS HAPPENING
while rosie and i weep with laughter
[info]fei_lian: AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

---

In other news -- god, I hate clothing sizing so much! They're so unbelievably messed up and seem completely arbitrary. I mean, right now, consider the fact that I am, apparently, simultaneously a size 0, 10, 12, 36, 38, and 40. And probably something else in UK that I just haven't discovered yet. I'm a comfortable medium t-shirt size in Europe, but in North America, I'm a small. Which is probably a depressing commentary about weight gain on this continent.

And my European shirt sizes seriously vary between 36-40 (depending on style I think?). And I had no idea what size trousers I was, so when I was shopping with the boys at Old Navy, I made a concerted effort to eye out sizes while buying cargo shorts. So after a variety of tests, I discovered that 12 fit very comfortably (and is actually somewhat loose if I load the pockets with too many heavy things), while 10 is a little tighter but still totally do-able, and therefore perhaps a goal to aim for!

Then last Friday, when I was shopping for a pair of cut-off denim shorts with Eka? Ended up buying one which is a goddamn size 0. Which I never would have ever dreamt of being able to fit into!

Granted, it's a little stretchy. But either way, I can button it without straining at all, though the waistband cuts into my skin a little by the end of the day and so fitting into these shorts is also a nice goal to aim for.

But, moral of the story: I still have no idea what size I am. This system sucks.



Also, I bought my first pair of real heels and they make me look amazing but I'm still uncertain over whether or not the size is too small. Will I get used to them? Will the pain go away? WHO KNOWS.
 
 
Current Mood: frustrated
Current Music: Jenny Lewis - Bad Man's World | Powered by Last.fm
 
 
15 July 2009 @ 07:36 am
HARRY POTTER TONIGHT! I nearly WEPT when I saw the trailer the other week, I hadn't seen that main one before because I don't watch enough telly and my computer hates videos. It's going to be so much better watching it now I don't really give a shit. :P Fandom was spoiling it because people were getting vicious about the adaptations. Now I really don't care how closely it sticks to the book, as long as it's entertaining for a couple of hours.

I was GOING to wear one of my house scarves (I've got three, big chunky Ravenclaw and Slytherin scarves made by [info]caitlin and [info]rachie203 and a little skinny Gryffindor one made by [info]metonymy ♥) but my mum took all my winter clothes home with her last week and forgot to bring the scarves back when she came up on Monday so I can't. ;_; Oh well. I'm going to write "I must not tell lies" on my hand in red biro and wear a TRUST SNAPE wrist cuff, that'll do. :P And I've got gold and maroon stripy Gryffindor glasses anyway! PROOF:



You can't really see the stripes, there's only a little bit on the edge of the frames. The inside of the arm bits are striped, though. They're amazing, I never want new glasses again. They're just going to have to pop out the lenses and replace them. :D

EXCITED.

My plan is to smuggle partymix in and kick small children out of the way if they head for the best seats because I've been reading these damn books for a decade and that's longer than they've been ALIVE. The only showing is at 8:10 anyway, I doubt there'll be too many ratty little kids in. I hope it's all hardcore psycho fans in house scarves <3 THESE ARE MY PEOPLE. I don't care what people geek about, as long as they geek. It's like when The Phantom Menace came out - I skived off college to see the very first showing at the Derby Showcase at 11am and the place was FULL of men in business suits with lightsaber tie-pins, all on the phone to their secretaries saying, "Hold all my calls, I'm in an important meeting." HAHA <3
 
 
14 July 2009 @ 08:48 pm
"My mind and body are as one!" "As two. I said I was coming."  
I originally intended to stopped by the clinic a few days before my appointment to figure out where it is and to fill out paperwork ahead of time, but I put it off thinking "Hey, it's not that big a deal. I'll be fine. It's too hot to go out there."

Today, coming home from my therapist's, I decide that since it's sort of on my way and in a part of town I don't mind driving through and I'm already out in the blazing heat, I would go ahead and do it anway.

Good thing, too. As soon as I saw the Planned Parenthood sign, I got that sick thud in my stomach as my adrenal glands emptied, and by the time I had the paperwork in front of me I was shaking so badly I had to cross out my phone number twice. My signature was beyond fucked. I hope they don't plan on using it for identification purposes.

It was the strangest thing, because I had no sense of actual emotional fear or dread, just a purely physical reaction over which I had absolutely no control. Even after the drive home I was still shaky.

It's mostly just funny-odd, and interesting on a psychological level. But Jesus Christ, you know, I thought I was fine with this. I thought I was okay knowing that this was not the clinic and not the people who fucked me over. I guess it was bothering me way more than I was aware of on a conscious level. And that is the second time recently that this has happened. While I'm glad that I apparently have the ability to function while fucked up, I am not so glad to be unaware of shit going on in my own head. Shit I should probably know about.

I'm feeling freaked out right now, but I expected that. Tomorrow is not going to be fun. At least I got the paperwork filled out. I won't have to have anyone help me write my own damn name.
 
 
Current Location: Morningstar Hall
Current Mood: confused
 
 
14 July 2009 @ 10:31 pm
Greetings from casa de [info]forourlives! There is good food, friends and so much sunnnnnnnn. And later on tonight, maybe mead or sake. And later in the week: Harry Potter pre-viewing! In a castle!

Life is good. I am going to get so sunburned.
 
 
 
14 July 2009 @ 08:51 am

Happy Bastille Day! Today the French celebrate the event that sparked the French revolution. In honor of our Francophone friends, what is your favorite French thing? Bonus points for answers en français.


View other answers



J'ai tant rêvé de toi que tu perds ta réalité.
Est-il encore temps d'atteindre ce corps vivant
Et de baiser sur cette bouche la naissance
De la voix qui m'est chère?

J'ai tant rêvé de toi que mes bras habitués
En étreignant ton ombre
A se croiser sur ma poitrine ne se plieraient pas
Au contour de ton corps, peut-être.
Et que, devant l'apparence réelle de ce qui me hante
Et me gouverne depuis des jours et des années,
Je deviendrais une ombre sans doute.
O balances sentimentales.

J'ai tant rêvé de toi qu'il n'est plus temps
Sans doute que je m'éveille.
Je dors debout, le corps exposé
A toutes les apparences de la vie
Et de l'amour et toi, la seule
qui compte aujourd'hui pour moi,
Je pourrais moins toucher ton front
Et tes lèvres que les premières lèvres
et le premier front venu.

J'ai tant rêvé de toi, tant marché, parlé,
Couché avec ton fantôme
Qu'il ne me reste plus peut-être,
Et pourtant, qu'a être fantôme
Parmi les fantômes et plus ombre
Cent fois que l'ombre qui se promène
Et se promènera allègrement
Sur le cadran solaire de ta vie.

- Robert Desnos, "Corps et biens"


The last half is my favourite:

"I've dreamed of you so much that without doubt there's no more time for me to wake up. I sleep on my feet, my body exposed to all the appearances of life and love, and you, the only one who matters for me now, I could less touch your forehead and your lips than the lips and forehead of the first passer-by.

I've dreamed of you so much, walked, talked, slept so much with your ghost that perhaps all I have left is to be a ghost among ghosts and a hundred times more shadow than the shadow that moves and will joyfully move across the sundial of your life."


It loses it a bit at the end there. XD It all sounds a ton better in French, nothing ever translates properly. I love this, it's so depressing and melodramatic.

REALLY I want to post a ton of Baudelaire (my dead boyfriend <3) and Rimbaud (my dead gay violent emo thuggish boyfriend who shat under people's pillows for a joke <3) but everybody's going to do that and nobody seems to know much of Desnos, so... public service? AGH I love Pierre de Ronsard too but I've raved about him before. Everything in Sonnets Pour Hélène, <3


Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, à la chandelle,
Assise auprès du feu, dévidant et filant,
Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous émerveillant :
Ronsard me célébrait du temps que j’étais belle.

Lors, vous n’aurez servante oyant telle nouvelle,
Déjà sous le labeur à demi sommeillant,
Qui au bruit de mon nom ne s’aille réveillant,
Bénissant votre nom de louange immortelle.

Je serai sous la terre et fantôme sans os :
Par les ombres myrteux je prendrai mon repos :
Vous serez au foyer une vieille accroupie,

Regrettant mon amour et votre fier dédain.
Vivez, si m’en croyez, n’attendez à demain :
Cueillez dès aujourd’hui les roses de la vie.


Yeats didn't exactly translate it in The Rose ("When you are old and grey and full of sleep" etc), it was more like paraphrasing. This one's more true, still not really right though:

When you are very old, at evening, by the fire,
spinning wool by candlelight and winding it in skeins,
you will say in wonderment as you recite my lines:
"Ronsard admired me in the days when I was fair."

Then not one of your servants dozing gently there
hearing my name's cadence break through your low repines
but will start into wakefulness out of her dreams
and bless your name — immortalised by my desire.

I'll be underneath the ground, and a boneless shade
taking my long rest in the scented myrtle-glade,
and you'll be an old woman, nodding towards life's close,

regretting my love, and regretting your disdain.
Heed me, and live for now: this time won't come again.
Come, pluck now — today — life's so quickly-fading rose.

t. Anthony Weir


I LOVE MY PRETENTIOUS FRENCH POETRY. <3 I was the kid at school who would sit out at lunchtime reading Baudelaire and Apollinaire and feeling all wanky and superior. XD
 
 
13 July 2009 @ 11:41 pm
I want to preface this entire piece by saying that nothing I say below is to be taken as a moral judgment or an implication that mentally ill people are less deserving of respect and human courtesy, any less intelligent, or any of that. I don't see how that might happen, but it doesn't mean I haven't put my foot in my mouth. I'm also not speaking for everyone. I'm aware that there are people out there who don't have a hard time dealing with their issues. I'm talking about the people who do.

I also want to say that this, too, is hewn from a longer piece, so I can't vouch for its coherence or its lack of redundancy.

Back on that same Feministe post, another good quote.

Emily, on what she sees as a difference between physical and mental disabilities, says that ". . . if mental illnesses are analogous to physical disabilities, it seems like you want to reframe mental illness as something not really wrong with the mentally ill person, but a failure on the part of society to accommodate that person.

"This rubs me the wrong way because many mental illnesses are, in and of themselves and regardless of how society treats someone, hellish states of existence."


Yeah, our social and moral attitudes toward mental illness are beyond fucked, but believe me, being bipolar sucks just fine all on its own without any help from ignorant assholes. For many, if not all, the suck is a built-in feature of the illness.

". . . . I guess the main point I’m making is that I think a distinction needs to be made between . . . [conditions] in which a person can live a happy, full life provided that they are properly accommodated, and disabilities and illnesses which do visit profound harm upon the sufferer, as do many mental illnesses. . . . The fact that many of these people suffer deeply due to their illnesses should be recognized and . . . treatment, insofar as it is available and useful, should be embraced."

Here's my truth: being bipolar is a bad thing for me. I'm not saying that I'm morally bad for being this way. I am saying that it is bad because a lot of the time it sucks wide. I mean, Jesus, I have already lost years of my creative and emotional life to it, and it may well cause me to kill myself someday. How the fuck is that not a bad thing?

So the constant denials that there is anything wrong with me and assurances that this condition has not really robbed me of anything worthwhile, the promises that if I do the "acceptance" thing just right it will quit sucking, the assertion that I am not seeing the bright side, man do those ever hurt.

It hurts when people imply that my perception of things is wrong. It is not. I know my own potential better than anyone. Let me tell you, internets, depression is not the same as pessimism. Some of the most optimistic, cheerful people I know are fucking hideously depressed. I know, it's crazy, but that's why they call us . . . ermm . . . crazy.

So yeah, my emotions are fucked, but I know where I am. I know this illness, its cycles, its rhythms, where it is likely to take me, where it means I cannot go. Telling me there is nothing wrong with me does not make me feel better. It makes me feel stupid and weak and lazy . . . and so goddamn alone.

Alone is perhaps the worst of it. When I am trying to tell it like it is and someone just won't listen, when they insist that I will get better someday, find a magic pill, or figure out how to look at it so that it will stop fucking hurting, it means that I need to educate that person about the reality of my situation before they are going to be able to help me. I mean, if someone doesn't see that your problem is a problem, going to them when you need comfort is not such a hot idea.

When this happens, it makes me feel that much smaller, that much sadder, that much more cut off. It makes me withdraw just that much more trust. It makes any comfort I find that much colder.

I tried for years to look on the bright side of this. There are some fucking awesome things about being this way. And for me, that's not enough to make me not hate and fear it. I tried for years to be a magical madman, to embrace my inner fuckup and love myself into a state of transcendent batshit craziness. It still sucked. You know the only thing that helped me not want to blow my head off? Acknowledging that it was never going to stop being what it was, acknowledging that the bad outweighed the good, and then medicating the bitch!

When someone tells me to behave as though this will someday stop beating the emotional shit out of me, or to live for those between times, or that if I really accepted myself I would be happy (thus implying that since I am not happy, I have not accepted myself) . . . that person is not helping me get better.

My doubt that my bipolar disorder will ever change seems like a terrible thing to a lot of folks, but it's not. I am hopeful, still, but it's not hope that it will go away or that I will get better, but that I will find a way of dealing with this that works well enough to make me happy again.

I am trying, but it's an ugly process. The only way out is through. I need to cope with reality as it is, not reality as I would like it to be. I need to make plans based on what is most likely, not plan based on the most favorable circumstances. I need to be able to function when things suck at their worst.

And the need to live with shit that sucks is not something that society addresses.

We teach people to accept that there is nothing evil about having a mental illness, and that some bad things can't be changed. Okay, we teach those things badly, but in the stupid process of trying to be human and love each other we do make stabs at it. But freakin' nobody addresses what happens after you admit you can't change it and understand that it doesn't make you evil.

Nobody really talks about the emotional sewage farming of having to deal with this shit every day for the rest of your life. Most of what I've seen is geared toward people who are newly-diagnosed, and the Welcome to Being Fucked Up 101 manual is seriously lacking in advanced protocols. Nobody talks about learning to accept permanently diminished capacity – not just accepting that it won't go away, but accepting that you are going to have to live with it forever.

There is a difference between accepting the fact that something is permanent and actually learning to live with it. I mean, there's a difference between accepting the fact that you are going to have a baby, and then learning to live with and care for that baby, right? It's not any different with an illness, injury, disability, so on.

It doesn't help that the whole "acceptance" discussion is always painted as a positive step involving positive emotions, with a lot of emphasis on how much better life will be once we accept ourselves. But as long as we are framing conversations about injury or illness or disability of any kind solely in terms of making positives out of negatives, as long as we tell people it will get better when they accept themselves, we are forcing people into roles that are seldom applicable to real life, and we are preparing them very poorly for life as whatever sort of fucked up they are.

The assertion that all pain is simply a blessing in disguise is terribly unhelpful. After all, if you are struggling to accept how things are, and someone tells you that you are wrong about how things are, that you're just looking at it wrong . . . well, that implies that you are either lazy for not just wising up and doing the legwork of loving yourself, or that you are too stupid to realize how deluded you are, you poor little thing. Someone says "Your problems aren't as bad as they seem!" How else to understand that besides "You are a lying, lazy faker who could do so much better if you just tried!" At best, it's "What's wrong with you? Don't you appreciate how wonderful your life is?"

Yeah, great. Thanks, you've given me so much fucking hope. If this is wonderful, I can't wait to see what shitty looks like.

And what happens when people accept what they are and find that their life is still hard, that it still sucks? Oh, that's what doctors and therapists and shrinks are for, right? Yeah. That's not going to be enough. Even a really good team working together can't fix it all. That's something a person has to do in the larger world. And most people don't have access to a good doctor or therapist or shrink. This is slack that society needs to take up.

And the shitty part is that I don't know what we should do for each other. I am still trying to figure it out for myself. Becaue the need in me has not been met, I can't say what would fill it. Only that there's a huge gap in our culture where help for people with major fucking issues should be, and I've fallen into it myself.

All I can say is that accepting what we -- all of us whose emotional need for support through major emotional suck is not getting met -- accepting what we say about our lives as fact, accepting that there may not be a bright side to whatever it is we are dealing with, and helping us to learn to live with whatever truths are ours would be a mighty fine place to start.
 
 
Current Location: Morningstar Hall
Current Mood: headachey
Current Music: Crimson Glory -- Queen of the Masquerade
 
 
13 July 2009 @ 05:27 pm
Went and gave blood to the hospital elves so they can see if my adjusted-dose thyroid meds are doing me any good. It was a more painful draw than usual because my veins are so small and because I had just gotten up and was dehydrated. Still, I love that particular lab. I have only once had a bad draw there. They are the most gentle, careful people, and they listen to me when I tell them that I have tiny veins that roll. See? I don't hate all medical professionals! I love my phlebotomists!

Tomorrow I see my therapist again for the first time in a long time. I'm glad about that, really glad, but the time away has given me time to think. I think I'm going to use the opportuntiy to reevaluate our goals and talk about what I can do to deal with this newest raft of crap.

Wednesday is the appointment with the new GYN. I am looking forward to this about as much as you would expect, which is to say not even a tiny little bit. Especially since the problem I'm going in for has stopped. Thing is, I know it will come back. Once it starts this shit, it tends to just get worse and worse until I do something to shut it up. There's no point in putting it off and trying to catch it in the act. On the other hand, the fact that it's not bleeding inappropriately right now means I don't need immediate help, so if something rubs me wrong I can walk out of there with no qualms whatsoever.

The weekend was tiring and aside from a visit from friends, sort of unpleasant. Allergies have me feeling like crap, and there was some really unpleasant upfuckery in one of my internet hangouts. I shouldn't let it get to me offline, I know, but it came on the heels of some really upsetting internal monologue stuff I've been dealing with, and it just sort of filled up the suck bucket in one fell swoop.

I know I'm not worthless or some sort of monster, but it really hurts to know that there are people out there who think that about other sick people, and very likely would think so about me if I weren't so comparatively functional and self-controlled. It bothers me that there are people whose distrust of anything not "normal" is more important to them than having sympathy for a human being who did not choose their lot in life.

I think that's about all I've got for now. I'm going to go see about finishing up a commission and mybe doing some prep work for some new boxes. I don't know. I've hit the point where, even though I don't want to do anything, I'm emotionally sound enough to want to want to do something, and the only cure for that I know is to tie up loose ends and do whatever seems like a good time.

Hope your weekend was okay. I will be back with, yes, another lycanthropy/bipolar/mental illness post, hopefully tonght, but maybe not until Thursday. I'm trying to post Real Stuff more often, really I am.
 
 
Current Location: Morningstar Hall
Current Mood: sore
 
 
13 July 2009 @ 11:46 pm
AS OF THE 21ST OF JULY, I WILL BE IN NORWAY.

i'm not sure what I'm doing, how long i'll be there for, etc. - i've bought a one way ticket, i may work at risenga, i may just holiday and go home at the begining of august. Either way. I WILL BE IN NORWAY, YOU GUIZ.


Ps. Tone! you owe me breakfast. :D


 
 
12 July 2009 @ 12:33 pm
HAHA I'm watching Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves while I sort all this paperwork.

WHY AM I DOING THIS?!

It's hilarious, it's as amazing as the Tudors. I've seen it a hundred times, I was obsessed with it when it first came out. I've been mad on Robin Hood ever since I can remember (after Joe and Ziggy, this book is my most precious thing) because I'm actually a seven-year-old boy and I like swashbuckly rubbish like Sinbad and Zorro. How can something be SO CRAP and SO BRILLIANT all at once?

And what the hell is it with the random American accents? Ignoring how the English they would have spoken then is so different to English now that accents don't matter, I don't get why they have half the people speaking in comedy exaggerated West Country accents and the rest sound like they rolled right out of LA and couldn't be arsed to ~get into character~ THAT ALWAYS ANNOYS ME. My favourite is that random who says, "It's not the men we're afraid of, it's the evil spirits!" or whatever it is in a sort of drawling Western voice like he should be playing a cowboy instead of an English soldier. GENIUS. Mel Brooks didn't even need to do the parody, it's the most ridiculous film ever made anyway. XD WHY CAN'T ANYBODY GET IT RIGHT? I'm boycotting the Russell Crowe thing. Why can't they ever get an English actor to play a legendary English hero? It's like getting Ian McKellan to play Davy Crockett. :| LAME.

eta: LOL "He fancies you, my lady." WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
 
 
11 July 2009 @ 05:59 pm
SOTIRED.

John and Claire came up to help me shift some more junk and now my house feels EMPTY. Actually it doesn't, because everything they haven't taken back home with them to store in the garage is piled up in my bedroom and living room, but the kitchen echoes now because it's empty. There was a massive mountain of junk at the end where normal people would have a dinner table, because I own too many books and it's just about impossible to get good bookshelves when you live in an attic flat where there's only four feet of vertical wall. D: So that's all sorted and gone. Most of what I need to sort now is boring paperwork because I'm the most disorganised person alive and ALL LETTERS get chucked in the same drawer/box/bag/whatever empty receptacle is closest. I seriously need to get more organised, I'm awful. >.< Oh well, fresh start and all that.

The sky is BLACK, it's working up for a hell of a thunderstorm. Unless it's passing right over. Either way I hope it happens soon because I've got a killer headache.

Foodtime!
 
 
It's kind of scary when you Google someone's name from high school because you remember how they could not fucking read and discover that they are a practicing dentist in the next town over.
 
 
Current Location: Morningstar Hall
Current Mood: confused
Current Music: Crimson Glory -- Transcendence
 
 
 
 

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