Why are bad ideas the only ones that feel good?
As part of my new year's makeover, I have opted to rock peace of mind. I am going to see the doctor on Monday and I will not punk out, I will ask the doctor for the pill. The only awkward part is:
1. I may or may not be starting my period that day
2. instead of my regular doctor, I have to see Dr. L, because my regular doctor, Dr. R is all booked through the end of the year (because surprise! I am still insured for another week and a half).
3. Dr. L is a dude. Yeah, I'm one of those girls that has issues with that. Especially because I may or may not have a mess going on.
Okay so I lied. Those are the only awkward parts.
I'm hoping to bypass all that mess anxiety because I just had a hoo ha exam (yes that is the clinical term) in August. But I guess I will have to woman up either way. I have to stop playing Russian roulette.
Either way, things will be interesting.
I am pitching my life as a HBO sitcom. Well okay, maybe not HBO, maybe Showtime.
I am sleepy and starving and I am thirty minutes away from not seeing anyone in this room for three weeks, save my own gorgeous mug. Somebody give me a big YES!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Bad sitcom, party of one.
In a somewhat bizarre turn of events that I can only attribute to my incompetence, I have gotten myself in a not delicious pickle. Nothing life altering, but the fodder for many a sitcom episode.
I decided that I had taken enough of not being near my boyfriend, so I told him I was coming to visit this weekend. That is all well and good. Unfortunately, I also told my clique of lady friends that we should have some shiggles while we all have some time off. Trying to coordinate five separate schedules is daunting. I originally said that anything pretty much worked. People took dates and times off the table. One suggestion that seemed to work the best for 4/5 of the involved parties did not work for me. December 20 doesn't work for me because I do (on the 21st). While discussing this with Jill, I accidentally went into problem solver mode, forgot my aching heart/loins, (which I am totally ruing at the moment) and suggested a "prefect" solution. FUUUUCK. I would cancel on Matt, but 1. I haven't seen him in a month, and 2. If I cancel, that means no proper "alone time" until NYE. THAT'S SIX WEEKS. MY POOR PUNANNI (that may or may not be expelling uterine lining at that point). Is it bad if I don't care about seeing them that much at this point? Does that make me a horrible person? I tried to see if there was a bus that left early/late enough for me to do both, but to no avail. The buses out of Chicago on Sunday are at 7, 9:15, and 4:30. Fuck 7. 9:15 is not much better but that's the only one that will get me back at a reasonable hour so we can go to Jackson or Redford or wherever the fuck we are deciding to go. Well if I left on the 9:15, and got back at 1:25, that would work, I guess even if our usual lazy Sunday got cut very very very short. maybe that is what I 'll do. FML.
I think I really screwed the pooch. Maybe. Screw fixing problems.
I started reading CD Payne's Youth In Revolt. Its not so bad so far, but I keep trying not to picture Michael Cera reading the book to me. I keep failing miserably.
I decided that I had taken enough of not being near my boyfriend, so I told him I was coming to visit this weekend. That is all well and good. Unfortunately, I also told my clique of lady friends that we should have some shiggles while we all have some time off. Trying to coordinate five separate schedules is daunting. I originally said that anything pretty much worked. People took dates and times off the table. One suggestion that seemed to work the best for 4/5 of the involved parties did not work for me. December 20 doesn't work for me because I do (on the 21st). While discussing this with Jill, I accidentally went into problem solver mode, forgot my aching heart/loins, (which I am totally ruing at the moment) and suggested a "prefect" solution. FUUUUCK. I would cancel on Matt, but 1. I haven't seen him in a month, and 2. If I cancel, that means no proper "alone time" until NYE. THAT'S SIX WEEKS. MY POOR PUNANNI (that may or may not be expelling uterine lining at that point). Is it bad if I don't care about seeing them that much at this point? Does that make me a horrible person? I tried to see if there was a bus that left early/late enough for me to do both, but to no avail. The buses out of Chicago on Sunday are at 7, 9:15, and 4:30. Fuck 7. 9:15 is not much better but that's the only one that will get me back at a reasonable hour so we can go to Jackson or Redford or wherever the fuck we are deciding to go. Well if I left on the 9:15, and got back at 1:25, that would work, I guess even if our usual lazy Sunday got cut very very very short. maybe that is what I 'll do. FML.
I think I really screwed the pooch. Maybe. Screw fixing problems.
I started reading CD Payne's Youth In Revolt. Its not so bad so far, but I keep trying not to picture Michael Cera reading the book to me. I keep failing miserably.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Hangovers and by proxy, hang ups.
Oh the longest beach in the world was last night.
I didn't even know i had three long beaches. This led to me loudly lamenting what a bonkers-ass thanksgiving I had and the delivery of strange looks from strangers.
Last call was at 12:30.
I am now buzzing on legal speed. I am not sick anymore and now this is purely for dietary consumption. It feels great, and has mostly eliminated my headache. Or maybe that's the water. My eye has attempted to escape my head and i feel like I can literally shoot lasers out of it.
One cig + one pill = good to go.
People are coughing near me though and my inner germaphobe wants to just run all about the lab with the recently acquired sanitizing products. I am doing my very best not to gag openly.
I am cutting all my hair off. I am through looking ordinary. Today is a day for dying. Not death, but dye.
But of course this is the one day this week, everybody wants a piece of me.
I am through with Kalamazoo. I am through with not knowing what I want.
I know I want school, but the finances are astronomical and my grades are pathetic, and I don't know who would say that I am skilled beyond who I am, who I was, on paper.
Right now nothing sounds more appealing than some okay 9-5 job and classes at The Second City. Right now I think I could be a stand up comic. My life is just one really bad joke that only God and I seem to find funny.
Let's go.
I didn't even know i had three long beaches. This led to me loudly lamenting what a bonkers-ass thanksgiving I had and the delivery of strange looks from strangers.
Last call was at 12:30.
I am now buzzing on legal speed. I am not sick anymore and now this is purely for dietary consumption. It feels great, and has mostly eliminated my headache. Or maybe that's the water. My eye has attempted to escape my head and i feel like I can literally shoot lasers out of it.
One cig + one pill = good to go.
People are coughing near me though and my inner germaphobe wants to just run all about the lab with the recently acquired sanitizing products. I am doing my very best not to gag openly.
I am cutting all my hair off. I am through looking ordinary. Today is a day for dying. Not death, but dye.
But of course this is the one day this week, everybody wants a piece of me.
I am through with Kalamazoo. I am through with not knowing what I want.
I know I want school, but the finances are astronomical and my grades are pathetic, and I don't know who would say that I am skilled beyond who I am, who I was, on paper.
Right now nothing sounds more appealing than some okay 9-5 job and classes at The Second City. Right now I think I could be a stand up comic. My life is just one really bad joke that only God and I seem to find funny.
Let's go.
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