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Crush enemies, abandon hope, and unleash endless waves of unrepentant sarcasm. |
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There's nothing to see here that's really out of the ordinary. Nothing really terribly interesting either, unless you like griping, gossip, grudges, and possible mental illness. If anything it's some small way to keep myself writing (though you'll see by the dates on the entries that it's by no means an effective way), as well as a means through which I can vent about any number of things that are pissing me off. Occasionally there's pie. Look: I'm not a normal person. I'm suffering from untreated depression and plagued by increasingly frequent migraines that pretty much render me bedridden for days. I've suffered a lifetime of abuse and neglect, and still have to struggle with unfathomable depths of low self-worth, not to mention the eating disorders. I'm a weirdo, a freak, an aberration of nature and human experience . . . but it doesn't make me interesting. So, you can read this if you want. I've got some social commentary that might be a little fun, and occasionally throw in a poem or two, but for the most part it's the ramblings of a stricken mind. Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain; she's just trying to change her dress. |
| I still feel like crap. It's like someone drilled a hole in the bottom of my foot and let all my energy leak out while I walked. I often feel unsteady when standing, and have very little desire to move at all when reclining or sitting. I really need to work out, but there's no drive, no desire. But on the bright side, I think I may have found a good loan through Wells Fargo. It's up to twenty-five thousand, mailed to me instead of going through the school (which means I'm not limited to what's on my bill, so I can get my computer looked at or replaced. Laptop, here I come). The downside is the two-percent origination fee, which I might not get back if I don't get the loan. It's four hundred dollars for twenty thousand, and four hundred is about my entire savings at the moment (which I need to pay for next month's health insurance payment). I have some reservations, but even if that falls through they also offer a loan similar to that of Chase, which still blows but will at least get me started. Banks all really suck right now, and I'm recalling all the calls to bail them out. What ever could have happened to all that money? |
| I live still, though not much of an existence. Short story: I passed English 459 with a B- and the other three classes were As. I have no job, and I just got notified that my loan application requires further assessment before I can get an answer about approval. I miss you guys on this site, but the house Internet makes visiting this site difficult. |
| You want me to update my blog, bitch?! You want it so bad you fill my inbox with reminders?! You want this?! HUH?!?!? 8 full pages done on the English paper, working on the ninth. I could probably just write my conclusion right now and be done, but I think I can work in the part about treating her like a child. I forgot about the history paper being comparative, and sold back my Beowulf. I'm pretty sure I can find a bunch of translated versions online though, so no terrible loss. At this time I have 1 day, 11 hours, and 25 minutes until the deadline for both papers. Think I can do it? We'll see! |
| Okay, it's been an eternity since I wrote anything of substance in this blog, so allow me to make up for it now by giving some important details of where my life has been going. That bum knee did not improve after my walk to McDonald's, and got much, much worse as time wore on. I did my best to rest it, and have my right knee doing almost all the work, such as climbing stairs, but nope, the pain became more frequent, and my limp got more grotesque. I even went back to the house to rest it without stairs and virtually no movement whatsoever. Got even worse. So I finally went to the doctor, which I now have since Kaiser finally accepted me, and it turns out that I have not torn my ligament, nor my ACL, nor anything like that. I actually tore my meniscus, part of the cartilage, for which there is no treatment but, surprise! Exercising the leg and building up the muscles above and below the knee to take some of the strain off the cartilage. No wonder it just got worse; I was resting it so much that my muscles started to atrophy, putting more strain on it that ever. I got a sheet of exercises to perform, but I hardly touched it. I just stopped babying my knee, made it climb the stairs, and it's worked out on its own. Nice. Now for the bad: Ann Unmongkolthavong died last Sunday. According to witnesses, her car flipped over on I-495. Somehow she survived that and managed to crawl out of the wreck and sit down in the travel lane, so say the witnesses. Then the witnesses say that a few minutes later, another car travelling in the lane struck and killed her. I think the witnesses said it was a Honda. Ah, you've noticed that I've mentioned the witnesses quite a few times. Well, you see, the witnesses seem to have witnessed a lot: Ann's car flipping over, Ann crawling out of the wreck and sitting down in the travel lane, and then a car coming down that lane and hitting her at a time the witnesses said was few minutes later. They witnessed all this, but did nothing to help her. They saw an injured woman crawl out of a wrecked car. They saw her sit down where she would have been in danger, and then they just stood there and watched as, a few minutes later, another car comes and hits her. What the fuck?! What the hell were these people doing for those few minutes? Even if we assume that their perceived passage of time was slowed down because of shock and alarm and the car actually came perhaps thirty seconds to one minute later, that's still enough time for someone to go over there and, I don't know, maybe carry her to the side of the road where the cars don't travel? Did no one consider going over to the overturned car to see if she needed help? Jesus! I guess everyone was too busy being an onlooker to actually be a good fucking samaritan! This is just the stupidest death I've ever heard of. That's all I can say: it's stupid. It's so fucking stupid, and should never have happened. Ever. |
| . . . And it's telling me how STUPID I am for walking all the way to McDonald's with a bum knee that hasn't completely healed yet. |
| So Constance has been told twice now that I don't want Anthony spending the night here as often. Did it get better? No, it got worse. He's pretty much living here right now, and with the exception of Monday, has spent every night for over a week in her bed. It's against the rules, and it's against my wishes. So, I sent another email to Eshani expressing how the situation has worsened, and that I do not want Anthony here any longer. Since I have the right to comfort, Constance needs my permission to have guests over. She never asked, and I never gave, so I am explicitly stating that Anthony may NOT spend the night, ever. Is it harsh? Not really. Considering how she was sober and responsive when I brought my complaints to her, Constance has no excuse for letting this continue. I strongly feel that she is merely disregarding all that I have said, and I am tired of being disrespected. If she had been reasonable about this, I would have let her have him over maybe three days a week, one day more than the housing rules allow. But no, she wanted to fuck with me. If she has no consideration for my feelings, why should I have consideration for hers? So now I just have to worry about the repercussions of my complaint. On the one hand, I am worried that the penalties may be harsh. I don't want her getting kicked out of the room for this, I just want her to realize I was serious. On the other hand, she's so fucking wrapped around this guy like a good little co-dependent that she may lose it and do something to me or my things. I don't like conflict, but I like far less being treated in this way. This is MY room. Anthony doesn't belong here. I have more rights than he. She deserves to be happy, yes, but not at the expense of my comfort. She can be happy with him elsewhere. And Jesus Christ! Connie sees David once a WEEK, and they have been dating for far longer than Constance and Anthony. She's going to get uptight because I won't let her see her boyfriend every day? Jesus. What a stupid, fucking, selfish co-dependent bitch. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| I finished my Annotation and Research Proposal assignment just before seven today. So, hooray. I have my Works Cited page, and my Statement of Academic Integrity, so no fears of being marked down this time. I think my working thesis of women's mental problems being ignored or laughed off will be acceptable, and fairly easy on which to write. Yay for me. Professor Miller approved my idea for the cats story. I have very little written, and will likely not be done by the time I submit on Tuesday (late), but at least I will have something to provide. It will probably suck, though. I don't have much opportunity to get into the mood. But maybe a good horror movie from the 1970s will help me! I will skim The Horror Movie Survival Guide for some good suggestions. Whoot whoot, Lyssah has less work to do! |
| So I go to take my Linguistics exam today, after trying to study and pretty much giving up on the idea of acing this one. I walk in the room to find Professor Grant there, on time, and she compliments my skirt. So far, so good. Then, she tells all the people who identify themselves as female to pack up and go wait in the hallway. So we wait, and we wonder what point she is trying to get across to us, or whether there IS any point. We all re-enter the room to discover that the men, previously all in the back, have been moved up to the front and we must sit behind them. As she is handing out the quizzes, Prof Grant starts to look concerned, and says that there may not be enough for everyone. At the last two rows, she says that all but six of us need to pack up and go outside. She comes out and asks, "So what do you want to do for the exam?" and suggests that we all go outside and observe language. So we head out to the Johnson Center, sit at a table, and observe and talk. I observed more so than they, I think. Then fifteen minutes later we tramp back to the classroom, hand her a sheet of paper with all our names on it, and she says, "See you next week." There HAS to be a catch. Either she will grill us on Monday about what we observed, or she will make us write an essay. This is just too easy to be true. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| I'm doing this in purple, since it's a nice, dreamy sort of color. So I've been having an increase in those "looping" nightmares---the kind where I'm in a situation that fills me with anxiety, but no matter how hard I try to wake up I get stuck playing out the same scene over and over with minor variations. It's very annoying, and for some reason it makes me sick to my stomach. Anyhow, I've been having a LOT of these dreams lately, many of them pertaining to getting up for class, being late, getting left behind by the starship Enterprise (don't ask). Tornados, you get the picture. Last night, or rather this morning because it was 6:27 AM when I managed to look at my clock, I was having a dream that I was sliding out of control along this road, a perfectly flat road, mind you, when along comes a starship very like the Enterprise in a path perpendicular to my own. What it was doing within the atmosphere, I don't know, and I didn't think to question. As I'm sliding, I realize that it is spewing a great deal of dark grey smoke, and flying almost on the ground. I slide into it, and get caught underneath it. I managed to get out from under it and kept on sliding, when I saw another starship coming right at me along the road. I realized that it was going to be one of those dreams, so I said to myself, "No, no, we're not doing this, we're not doing this!" And then in the dream I started to shake my head. "I am waking up RIGHT NOW." The dream started to fade, and then I was suddenly in my bed furiously shaking my head. It took me a moment to realize that I had literally shaken myself out of REM sleep. Pretty cool, eh? Take THAT, Freddy Krueger! I know, it's not really that cool, but I think it's neat to have that kind of control. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
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