A couple of months ago, Ann and I met up for drinks at The Delachaise when she was in town and, like we do, we started talking about boys. I told her about my then-current situation (just broke up with one guy, going on a date with another guy and carrying on a flirtation with someone else) and she said something along the lines of, "you have so much game!" I started laughing because "game" is the last word I'd use to describe my awkward and neurotic approach to the dating world, but she pointed out, rightly, that every time we'd talked in the past year, there was some combination of dudely happenings. 2010-11 has been a fruitful year. It's also been kind of emotionally chaotic--the whole navigating a big breakup, dalliances and their occasional fall-outs, breaking off short-lived but passionate flings. I don't want to get into it, good or bad, because I know some of those guys know about this blog and I'm not interested in hurting feelings or opening wounds.
But, "game" or not, it's been a fun year. And maybe I do have a little game, because I ended up with a whiskey-drinking, mechanically handy cook who just got a job at one of the best restaurants in the city (and is actually moving here, thank goodness.) being "smitten" with me. Game indeed.
Maybe he likes my drunken eye squint.
Showing posts with label moving to nawlins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving to nawlins. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
faux bohemian
me: I'm in a weird spot right now
I keep trying to write about it but I don't think it's there yet
so here are my fragmented thoughts on it (some of which you've already heard)
academia is becoming less and less of an option. a ph.d is becoming less and less appealing. my life plans are up in the air, which is really weird for me because my plan has been my plan for a very long time.
so I've been thinking, kind of abstractly, "what are things I want out of my life?"
the concrete ideas I've come up with are: I want to do work that helps people. whether that manifests as non profit or continued volunteering or teaching...I want to do something that gives to the community.
I want to be as self sufficient as possible. grow my own food. can stuff. make clothes.
I want to have a kid. I don't know if I want to marry. I think I do, but maybe not. I want to write a book
so I'm trying to figure out how to do that, in the long term
christie: you'll get what you want, as long as you know those things are in the picture
there are a million ways to get there
the freedom in that, is one of the greatest feelings i've ever known
me: that's the part I'm trying to figure out
christie: just find something you want to get good at.
get good at it, don't marry it
keep learning stuff. the more self-sufficient as you are, the more you'll find time to learn to do what you love
the less money you need
it's possible
me: yeah
I just want to set down roots
and I think I want to set them down here
I really really want to be in new orleans
I am willing to work with new orleans to get what I want
christie: :)
it sounds beautiful.
me: :)
i hope so
I'm not good at perspective sometimes
I'm trying to be
christie: just keep the picture in your mind and believe in it
it becomes real
and then other people will start to see it
me: yeah. it's the logistics that worry me, you know?
christie: ah, fuck logistics. what logistics!
me: hahaha
christie: while practical, plans don't work out most of the time
that shit shouldn't worry you more than 20%, hehe
yeah, freak out when it gets critical, but there's always a way
me: I think I just need to push myself more than I do
I realized the other day that I don't really have a talent
I'm not a wonderful writer. I can't play an instrument. I can cook okay, but nothing spectacular
and a big part of that is because I convince myself that I can't learn how to do something. even though I can. and I have. and doing so brings me satisfaction.
for someone who is always claiming to hate being stagnant, that's a pretty hypocritical attitude for me to have :)
christie: it goes back to physics, no one is free from gravity, or the laws of motion.
objects at rest tend to stay at rest
it's a constant struggle
to not stay in one place, sitting in old bathwater
me: yeah
christie: cause it's so easy
me: I just fucking hate failing
and it's why I throw myself into grad school with a kind of anxious fervor
part of it "I'M GOING TO DO THIS" and the other part is "I can't take it if I don't"
christie: i think what you want looks pretty damn good
and hey, if you don't get married, we can be two straight women raising a kid and growing a garden
me: hahaah sweet
christie: IM SO DOWN
I keep trying to write about it but I don't think it's there yet
so here are my fragmented thoughts on it (some of which you've already heard)
academia is becoming less and less of an option. a ph.d is becoming less and less appealing. my life plans are up in the air, which is really weird for me because my plan has been my plan for a very long time.
so I've been thinking, kind of abstractly, "what are things I want out of my life?"
the concrete ideas I've come up with are: I want to do work that helps people. whether that manifests as non profit or continued volunteering or teaching...I want to do something that gives to the community.
I want to be as self sufficient as possible. grow my own food. can stuff. make clothes.
I want to have a kid. I don't know if I want to marry. I think I do, but maybe not. I want to write a book
so I'm trying to figure out how to do that, in the long term
christie: you'll get what you want, as long as you know those things are in the picture
there are a million ways to get there
the freedom in that, is one of the greatest feelings i've ever known
me: that's the part I'm trying to figure out
christie: just find something you want to get good at.
get good at it, don't marry it
keep learning stuff. the more self-sufficient as you are, the more you'll find time to learn to do what you love
the less money you need
it's possible
me: yeah
I just want to set down roots
and I think I want to set them down here
I really really want to be in new orleans
I am willing to work with new orleans to get what I want
christie: :)
it sounds beautiful.
me: :)
i hope so
I'm not good at perspective sometimes
I'm trying to be
christie: just keep the picture in your mind and believe in it
it becomes real
and then other people will start to see it
me: yeah. it's the logistics that worry me, you know?
christie: ah, fuck logistics. what logistics!
me: hahaha
christie: while practical, plans don't work out most of the time
that shit shouldn't worry you more than 20%, hehe
yeah, freak out when it gets critical, but there's always a way
me: I think I just need to push myself more than I do
I realized the other day that I don't really have a talent
I'm not a wonderful writer. I can't play an instrument. I can cook okay, but nothing spectacular
and a big part of that is because I convince myself that I can't learn how to do something. even though I can. and I have. and doing so brings me satisfaction.
for someone who is always claiming to hate being stagnant, that's a pretty hypocritical attitude for me to have :)
christie: it goes back to physics, no one is free from gravity, or the laws of motion.
objects at rest tend to stay at rest
it's a constant struggle
to not stay in one place, sitting in old bathwater
me: yeah
christie: cause it's so easy
me: I just fucking hate failing
and it's why I throw myself into grad school with a kind of anxious fervor
part of it "I'M GOING TO DO THIS" and the other part is "I can't take it if I don't"
christie: i think what you want looks pretty damn good
and hey, if you don't get married, we can be two straight women raising a kid and growing a garden
me: hahaah sweet
christie: IM SO DOWN
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
then they just put down their hands and moved into the sky
and we had barely said hello and it was time/to say goodbye
In two days, it will be my one year anniversary here in New Orleans. I'm lying in bed, wine drunk and sweaty from a combined bike ride and lack of great AC, singing sultry Ani DiFranco songs into the dark and I realized this felt familiar.
I'm still sweaty, tired, happy, and sad.
It still feels right.
In two days, it will be my one year anniversary here in New Orleans. I'm lying in bed, wine drunk and sweaty from a combined bike ride and lack of great AC, singing sultry Ani DiFranco songs into the dark and I realized this felt familiar.
I'm still sweaty, tired, happy, and sad.
It still feels right.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
goodnola
I realize this blog has been kind of a downer lately (always!), but I would like to note here, for posterity, that I had a good night. I got a lot of reading done and had a really fun conversation at Z'otz and made plans to go drinking and got hit on by a lady and ate the best red beans of my life with some Greek yogurt at my new dining room table.
and!
goodnight :)
and!
goodnight :)
Saturday, June 25, 2011
"who would have known how bittersweet this would taste"
I'm having a bout of melancholy right now. I can't quite put my finger on it but I think a lot of it is the approaching year anniversary of the breakup/move. I've been listening to a lot of sad love songs lately, thinking a lot about living here and, at times, unintentionally recalling and reliving the stress and pain of last summer and winter. This past year has been a period of intense growth for me, something I realized in part at the time but am continuing to grasp more fully now. And, sometimes, that's overwhelming. So I lay on my back in my bed and belt out songs to the ceiling like I did when I was 17.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
these things will kill you
I'm walking down Carrollton, approaching Spruce and a grizzled man, with one leg, in a wheelchair. He stares at me as I walk up and as I step onto the sidewalk, he glares.
"It's poison."
I take one earbud out. "Excuse me?"
"That's POISON," he hisses, pointing vehemently at my headphones with one hand, taking a drag off a cigarette with the other.
Good things never happen to me at Carrollton and Spruce.
"It's poison."
I take one earbud out. "Excuse me?"
"That's POISON," he hisses, pointing vehemently at my headphones with one hand, taking a drag off a cigarette with the other.
Good things never happen to me at Carrollton and Spruce.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
wreck yo'self
I've been meaning to write about this whole incident where I got hit by a car, but life got in the way. So this is a little delayed, but I wanted to get it down for posterity.
On the 31st, I was studying at Z'otz. I left around 11:30 and began biking home down Carrollton. I was in the bike lane, approaching Spruce St., when I registered the car.
I don't quite remember exactly how this happened but I remember seeing the car in my periphery, realizing they were turning right. Braking as hard as I could and thinking "I am going to get hit" while simultaneously thinking "it's okay, it's okay." I remember the back end of the car slamming into my front tire and I vaguely remember thinking I would just fall over, even as I went soaring over the handlebars.
My face and shoulder hit the street first and there was this feeling of sick dizziness as I realized I was conscious but that something was very wrong. I looked up and saw the car driving off. Then I spat out a chunk of my front tooth. Two guys that had seen the whole thing ran over and one of them picked me up off the ground. He kept asking me if I was okay while running around frantically...propping my bike up on its kickstand, retrieving my shoe that had flown off in the road and putting it back on my foot, yelling about how those people drove off and they must have been drunk. His friend stood by quietly and asked if he should call 911.
At this point, my brain kicked into what I refer to as "crisis reason mode," wherein I start thinking in this very detached, "logical" way. I realized I probably wasn't concussed and nothing felt broken (except my tooth). I told them not to call the police because it wasn't going to do any good without a license plate number. I kept repeating, "My tooth. My tooth broke. It's really fucked up." The frantic guy made me show him and then assured me I looked "beautiful" and "gorgeous." They told me their names and I nodded and said I was just going to walk home, that it was only 2 blocks. I never cried, which I remember thinking was strange. I felt like the whole thing had happened to someone else. I called my mom a few times but no one answered. Then Blair called and I told him what had happened. He wanted to drive out to New Orleans but I told him I was fine. I talked to Erin online a bit, then started to undress.
I'd almost worn a sundress that day but the air had chilled a bit, so I wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt instead. Even with that, I had skinned my knee, shoulder and foot pretty badly, as well as road rash on my forearms. My face had begun to swell up. While I looked at all this, I began shaking and slowly realized I was probably in shock. Blair called back around this time and I calmly told him I thought I was in shock. At that point, he insisted on coming to New Orleans and I stopped arguing with him, because I was starting to feel really fucked up.
I took a shower and called the police, finally, only to be told what I already knew: that nothing could be done, that the cameras on Carrollton were disabled, that without a license plate number there was no hope. The cop was nice about it. Blair showed up and and hugged me before taking me to Walgreens to get soup and Orajel and some sort of protective cap to cover the exposed nerve in my front tooth. As we walked in, I started laughing and turned to him. "You know, people are going to think you beat the shit out of me." I was right; the cashier looked so angry when Blair was checking out that he could only glare at his register between sneaking horrified glances at me.
Back at home, I mustered a few sips of broth before giving up because of my tooth. Blair and stood in my bathroom while he tried to make the gum to cover my tooth malleable enough to apply. We thought we got it at some point, but when I put it on, it just fell off. Our laughing at how ridiculous it looked probably didn't help. I gave up, took some Ibprofun and squirted a ton of Orajel in my mouth before finally going to bed around 4am.
We got up around 8:30 so I could start trying to find a dentist to fix my tooth. I called my mom and told her what happened. Telling your mother "I got hit by a car" is a pretty difficult thing to do, especially when your mom is as emotional as mine is. I finally convinced her I was okay, no I wasn't wearing a helmet, stop YELLING, I KNOW. Once she calmed down, she called her endodontist and got me an appointment that morning for a root canal and a build up to cover the tooth. The next day, she bought me a helmet. She would have gotten me a full body flashing protective suit if she could have.
Overall, damages were a broken front tooth, facial abrasions, skinned knee, shoulder, foot, and arms, bruised cheekbone, ribs and kneecap (which is still bothering me :/). I'm very lucky, because it could have easily been a head injury. I'm pretty grateful for the kindness of those dudes who helped me, for all the concerned messages, texts and calls I got, for Blair being amazing enough to take off of work to come play nursemaid to my stubborn self and, mostly, that I'm still alive and okay.
About an hour post-accident. Pre-swelling and before the abrasions really started to show up.
Friday, after temp. tooth placement and swelling setting in. Kind of hard to tell here but the abrasions looked quite a bit nastier in person (though have since healed completely!) and the act of "smiling" here and trying to open my left eye all the way were pretty godawful. This was in my mom's car, on the way to get a helmet :)
On the 31st, I was studying at Z'otz. I left around 11:30 and began biking home down Carrollton. I was in the bike lane, approaching Spruce St., when I registered the car.
I don't quite remember exactly how this happened but I remember seeing the car in my periphery, realizing they were turning right. Braking as hard as I could and thinking "I am going to get hit" while simultaneously thinking "it's okay, it's okay." I remember the back end of the car slamming into my front tire and I vaguely remember thinking I would just fall over, even as I went soaring over the handlebars.
My face and shoulder hit the street first and there was this feeling of sick dizziness as I realized I was conscious but that something was very wrong. I looked up and saw the car driving off. Then I spat out a chunk of my front tooth. Two guys that had seen the whole thing ran over and one of them picked me up off the ground. He kept asking me if I was okay while running around frantically...propping my bike up on its kickstand, retrieving my shoe that had flown off in the road and putting it back on my foot, yelling about how those people drove off and they must have been drunk. His friend stood by quietly and asked if he should call 911.
At this point, my brain kicked into what I refer to as "crisis reason mode," wherein I start thinking in this very detached, "logical" way. I realized I probably wasn't concussed and nothing felt broken (except my tooth). I told them not to call the police because it wasn't going to do any good without a license plate number. I kept repeating, "My tooth. My tooth broke. It's really fucked up." The frantic guy made me show him and then assured me I looked "beautiful" and "gorgeous." They told me their names and I nodded and said I was just going to walk home, that it was only 2 blocks. I never cried, which I remember thinking was strange. I felt like the whole thing had happened to someone else. I called my mom a few times but no one answered. Then Blair called and I told him what had happened. He wanted to drive out to New Orleans but I told him I was fine. I talked to Erin online a bit, then started to undress.
I'd almost worn a sundress that day but the air had chilled a bit, so I wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt instead. Even with that, I had skinned my knee, shoulder and foot pretty badly, as well as road rash on my forearms. My face had begun to swell up. While I looked at all this, I began shaking and slowly realized I was probably in shock. Blair called back around this time and I calmly told him I thought I was in shock. At that point, he insisted on coming to New Orleans and I stopped arguing with him, because I was starting to feel really fucked up.
I took a shower and called the police, finally, only to be told what I already knew: that nothing could be done, that the cameras on Carrollton were disabled, that without a license plate number there was no hope. The cop was nice about it. Blair showed up and and hugged me before taking me to Walgreens to get soup and Orajel and some sort of protective cap to cover the exposed nerve in my front tooth. As we walked in, I started laughing and turned to him. "You know, people are going to think you beat the shit out of me." I was right; the cashier looked so angry when Blair was checking out that he could only glare at his register between sneaking horrified glances at me.
Back at home, I mustered a few sips of broth before giving up because of my tooth. Blair and stood in my bathroom while he tried to make the gum to cover my tooth malleable enough to apply. We thought we got it at some point, but when I put it on, it just fell off. Our laughing at how ridiculous it looked probably didn't help. I gave up, took some Ibprofun and squirted a ton of Orajel in my mouth before finally going to bed around 4am.
We got up around 8:30 so I could start trying to find a dentist to fix my tooth. I called my mom and told her what happened. Telling your mother "I got hit by a car" is a pretty difficult thing to do, especially when your mom is as emotional as mine is. I finally convinced her I was okay, no I wasn't wearing a helmet, stop YELLING, I KNOW. Once she calmed down, she called her endodontist and got me an appointment that morning for a root canal and a build up to cover the tooth. The next day, she bought me a helmet. She would have gotten me a full body flashing protective suit if she could have.
Overall, damages were a broken front tooth, facial abrasions, skinned knee, shoulder, foot, and arms, bruised cheekbone, ribs and kneecap (which is still bothering me :/). I'm very lucky, because it could have easily been a head injury. I'm pretty grateful for the kindness of those dudes who helped me, for all the concerned messages, texts and calls I got, for Blair being amazing enough to take off of work to come play nursemaid to my stubborn self and, mostly, that I'm still alive and okay.
About an hour post-accident. Pre-swelling and before the abrasions really started to show up.
Friday, after temp. tooth placement and swelling setting in. Kind of hard to tell here but the abrasions looked quite a bit nastier in person (though have since healed completely!) and the act of "smiling" here and trying to open my left eye all the way were pretty godawful. This was in my mom's car, on the way to get a helmet :)
Friday, March 11, 2011
connect the dotz
I'm at Z'OTZ for the 4th time this week. I've been to Z'OTZ a number of times before this, for the cheapo iced coffee, but I'd never stayed and sat. Once I did, on Lundi Gras, I kind of fell in love and I've been here every night this week except Mardi Gras. I still love the Rue, but Z'OTZ feels more communal. It's a warm little place and I chatted with the barista about The Pogues and shitty tippers while she made my coffee, which is something that wouldn't happen to me at Rue. Plus, back patio.
I've been playing catch up this week. Paid a bunch of bills, allotted finances, read a bunch of school work. Made some plans--drinks at The Saint, bowling, some shows, some hanging out, a potluck. I've also been riding my bike almost everywhere, partly because of the excellent weather and partly because I had a very low tire on my car. Which leads me to...
...found an excellent new panhandling scheme: hanging out at the Air/Vacuum pumps at gas stations. They know you have change! You can't pull the whole "just got a credit card on me" thing. I drove with fingers crossed to work today (the tire was puddling) and then, after, went to 3 gas stations before finding an air pump that didn't have a few bums around it. So I pull in, start filling my tire with air and feel someone pulling the hose out for me. I guess the bum for that station had briefly abandoned post but hurried back. Afterward, he kind of gave me an expectant look, so I waved and drove off. And now I feel like an asshole, so I'm going to donate to a homeless shelter.
On Ash Wednesday, I went to Mass with Alyson and we got ashes. I haven't been to Mass in 2 years and I haven't been to an AW mass since I was...18? Lately, I've been toying with the idea of revisiting church. I don't really know why...there are some pretty solid reasons I left Catholic church and frankly, I still question exactly what my spiritual beliefs are. But I figured it wasn't going to do any harm to indulge that curiosity and it didn't. It was nice to go through the motions, to hear a good homily, to be there with Alyson and to get ashes that symbolize clearing out the old and nurturing the new and good. That's a message I can get behind.
I've been playing catch up this week. Paid a bunch of bills, allotted finances, read a bunch of school work. Made some plans--drinks at The Saint, bowling, some shows, some hanging out, a potluck. I've also been riding my bike almost everywhere, partly because of the excellent weather and partly because I had a very low tire on my car. Which leads me to...
...found an excellent new panhandling scheme: hanging out at the Air/Vacuum pumps at gas stations. They know you have change! You can't pull the whole "just got a credit card on me" thing. I drove with fingers crossed to work today (the tire was puddling) and then, after, went to 3 gas stations before finding an air pump that didn't have a few bums around it. So I pull in, start filling my tire with air and feel someone pulling the hose out for me. I guess the bum for that station had briefly abandoned post but hurried back. Afterward, he kind of gave me an expectant look, so I waved and drove off. And now I feel like an asshole, so I'm going to donate to a homeless shelter.
On Ash Wednesday, I went to Mass with Alyson and we got ashes. I haven't been to Mass in 2 years and I haven't been to an AW mass since I was...18? Lately, I've been toying with the idea of revisiting church. I don't really know why...there are some pretty solid reasons I left Catholic church and frankly, I still question exactly what my spiritual beliefs are. But I figured it wasn't going to do any harm to indulge that curiosity and it didn't. It was nice to go through the motions, to hear a good homily, to be there with Alyson and to get ashes that symbolize clearing out the old and nurturing the new and good. That's a message I can get behind.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
mardi gras 2011
Friday:
-Drove into Baton Rouge, met Nelson and Christie at Red Star.
-Ate Taco Bell at 2:00am with Christie
-Drink count: 2 whiskeys
Saturday:
-Rain + Spanish Town parade
-Text from Kimberly: “BR is under tornado watch. Are you still doing Spanish Town?” Me: “I NEVER MISS SPANISH TOWN.”
-Ross, Peter and Scott meetup. Hounddogs for pool and more drinking
-Found Nelson and took him wandering
-Foiled opportunity for crawfish
-Georges for sandwiches and beer + The Goonies on ABC Family
-Nap at Blair and Peter’s apartment before drive home to NOLA
-Grocery shopping with Nelson at 11:30
-Meet up with Alyson and Cain at Pal’s
-Move party to Mid-City Yacht Club
-Watched weird Girls Gone Wild-esque videos at the bar until 3:30am
-Drink count: 2 Abita Strawberry Harvest, 12 oz. cup of vodka soaked gummy bears, Jello shot, Blood Mary, vodka + Gatorade, High Life, Sangria, Abita Amber
Sunday:
-Woke up at 9am to make king cakes
-Made 2 delicious Nutella cream cheese-filled cakes
-Peter arrived in NOLA
-Vodka + Gatorade
-Ridiculous driving escapades. Almost-wreck count: 7
-Parking on Danneel and Josephine after an hour of driving around. Assisted by group of people who asked us for some kush
-Unexpected Krewe of Thoth
-Box of Wine parade
-Wine consumed out of fake manbreasts
-Meetup with Eric
-Safety Gras rules outlined
-Missed most of Chewbacchus waiting in bathroom line at Igor’s
-Followed end of Chewbacchus with band playing the Imperial March and us playing air guitar
-Lots of wandering, trying to find people/a party, catching beads
-Miles and miles of walking around uptown
-Crawling in someone’s hedge to pee
-Shady Kwicky Mart experience where someone tried to sell me some coke
-Delachaise for fish and chips, chalkboard falling on Peter’s head, free food, random gay guy telling Peter and I that we were meant for each other, watching Endymion from windows before deciding to go outside
-20 pound bag of beads flying at my head. Girl tries to take them before telling me, “Well if you REALLY want them, you can just have them.”Me: “I mean, I kind of do.”
-Peter and I victoriously lugging beads 19 blocks back to car
-Mimi’s and meeting up with Eddie + Jason after they walked from the Convention Center to the Marigny
-Calling 911 for an awful wreck and being put on hold; finding Eddie’s car
-Sleepover!
-Drink Count: vodka + Gatorade, 2 High Lifes, Restoration Ale
Monday:
-Nelson back to Arkansas, Eddie and Jason back to BR
-Little Tokyo with Peter
-Nap
-Christie and Blair arrive
-Neighbors’ friend shows up with 2 black eyes and can’t find people. Drama ensues
-Walk to Z’OTZ for iced coffee
-Drama continues to ensue, 6 phone calls from neighbors
-Walk home; drama ends
-Eddie and Ross arrive
-Scrambled eggs for Blair
-Eric arrives/leaves
-Pal’s for air hockey, free food, drinking, finding and friending another Mandi, new nicknames
-Mimi’s again for pool, brass band dancing, potatoes, Blair being hilariously lewd
-Marigny singalong
-Bob’s house
-Leaving Blair and Ross to party while me + Christie + Peter +Eddie went home, scrambled more eggs, ate leftover noodles and went to sleep
-Drink count: vodka + orange juice, High Life, 2 gingeritas, ½ NOLA Hopitoulas
Tuesday:
-Blair and Ross arrive back at 9am
-Miss all parades due to sleeping
-Rouse everyone to go party, get grumbled at
-Bud’s Broiler for burgin’
-Food coma, everyone sleeps on floor
-Blair leaves
-Cooter Brown’s for Eric meetup, beers, oysters
-Chatted, ate, drank outside while it rained
-Tentative plans for Spring Break beach camping trip
-Hugs, kisses, everyone goes home
-Glorious, glorious sleep
-Drink count: 2 Abita Ambers
-Drove into Baton Rouge, met Nelson and Christie at Red Star.
-Ate Taco Bell at 2:00am with Christie
-Drink count: 2 whiskeys
Saturday:
-Rain + Spanish Town parade
-Text from Kimberly: “BR is under tornado watch. Are you still doing Spanish Town?” Me: “I NEVER MISS SPANISH TOWN.”
-Ross, Peter and Scott meetup. Hounddogs for pool and more drinking
-Found Nelson and took him wandering
-Foiled opportunity for crawfish
-Georges for sandwiches and beer + The Goonies on ABC Family
-Nap at Blair and Peter’s apartment before drive home to NOLA
-Grocery shopping with Nelson at 11:30
-Meet up with Alyson and Cain at Pal’s
-Move party to Mid-City Yacht Club
-Watched weird Girls Gone Wild-esque videos at the bar until 3:30am
-Drink count: 2 Abita Strawberry Harvest, 12 oz. cup of vodka soaked gummy bears, Jello shot, Blood Mary, vodka + Gatorade, High Life, Sangria, Abita Amber
Sunday:
-Woke up at 9am to make king cakes
-Made 2 delicious Nutella cream cheese-filled cakes
-Peter arrived in NOLA
-Vodka + Gatorade
-Ridiculous driving escapades. Almost-wreck count: 7
-Parking on Danneel and Josephine after an hour of driving around. Assisted by group of people who asked us for some kush
-Unexpected Krewe of Thoth
-Box of Wine parade
-Wine consumed out of fake manbreasts
-Meetup with Eric
-Safety Gras rules outlined
-Missed most of Chewbacchus waiting in bathroom line at Igor’s
-Followed end of Chewbacchus with band playing the Imperial March and us playing air guitar
-Lots of wandering, trying to find people/a party, catching beads
-Miles and miles of walking around uptown
-Crawling in someone’s hedge to pee
-Shady Kwicky Mart experience where someone tried to sell me some coke
-Delachaise for fish and chips, chalkboard falling on Peter’s head, free food, random gay guy telling Peter and I that we were meant for each other, watching Endymion from windows before deciding to go outside
-20 pound bag of beads flying at my head. Girl tries to take them before telling me, “Well if you REALLY want them, you can just have them.”Me: “I mean, I kind of do.”
-Peter and I victoriously lugging beads 19 blocks back to car
-Mimi’s and meeting up with Eddie + Jason after they walked from the Convention Center to the Marigny
-Calling 911 for an awful wreck and being put on hold; finding Eddie’s car
-Sleepover!
-Drink Count: vodka + Gatorade, 2 High Lifes, Restoration Ale
Monday:
-Nelson back to Arkansas, Eddie and Jason back to BR
-Little Tokyo with Peter
-Nap
-Christie and Blair arrive
-Neighbors’ friend shows up with 2 black eyes and can’t find people. Drama ensues
-Walk to Z’OTZ for iced coffee
-Drama continues to ensue, 6 phone calls from neighbors
-Walk home; drama ends
-Eddie and Ross arrive
-Scrambled eggs for Blair
-Eric arrives/leaves
-Pal’s for air hockey, free food, drinking, finding and friending another Mandi, new nicknames
-Mimi’s again for pool, brass band dancing, potatoes, Blair being hilariously lewd
-Marigny singalong
-Bob’s house
-Leaving Blair and Ross to party while me + Christie + Peter +Eddie went home, scrambled more eggs, ate leftover noodles and went to sleep
-Drink count: vodka + orange juice, High Life, 2 gingeritas, ½ NOLA Hopitoulas
Tuesday:
-Blair and Ross arrive back at 9am
-Miss all parades due to sleeping
-Rouse everyone to go party, get grumbled at
-Bud’s Broiler for burgin’
-Food coma, everyone sleeps on floor
-Blair leaves
-Cooter Brown’s for Eric meetup, beers, oysters
-Chatted, ate, drank outside while it rained
-Tentative plans for Spring Break beach camping trip
-Hugs, kisses, everyone goes home
-Glorious, glorious sleep
-Drink count: 2 Abita Ambers
Saturday, February 26, 2011
steady about-face
Today, I'm airing out the house. Both doors open, fans on, music playing. The air has gotten stale in here. I washed the sheets too, emptied boxes, hung pictures. I feel this urge to...freshen up. Make things clean again, and good.
Over the winter, I kept telling myself "It's not as bad as it's been before. It's been worse and you've dealt with worse." But coming out of the last few months is almost a tangible feeling, like coming out of sticky black mud. It's been worse before but it was pretty bad this time, in retrospect.
I find myself wanting to wander around, like I did when I was unemployed. Apparently, when dealing with throwing off a deep sadness, I'm compelled to wander. I decided last weekend that it was high time to go get my bike fixed, so this morning I washed my hair, tied it back with a scarf, threw on some old sunglasses Candace gave me about 12 years ago and those pants that don't fit me at ALL(but that I'm in love with) (but seriously, they barely stay on and can be taken on and off without unzipping or unbuttoning) and walked over to Oak (after a brief yard sale stop with Shelby, where we got hanging lamps for the porch). I dropped the bike off and then walked around for an hour and a half. Up and down Oak, Dublin, Hampson, Carrollton, while listening to a couple of Mirah CDs on shuffle. In the midst of it, I thought to myself, "I am so fucking happy." It was kind of a surprising thought, honestly, but I turned it over a little and came to the conclusion that I am, in fact, so fucking happy. And, more surprisingly, happy because I was alone, happy in my solitude and wandering and feeling alive again. I love those little revelatory moments and I feel like I've been having a slew of them these last few months. I feel like I'm recovering lost parts of myself and making it whole again.
Over the winter, I kept telling myself "It's not as bad as it's been before. It's been worse and you've dealt with worse." But coming out of the last few months is almost a tangible feeling, like coming out of sticky black mud. It's been worse before but it was pretty bad this time, in retrospect.
I find myself wanting to wander around, like I did when I was unemployed. Apparently, when dealing with throwing off a deep sadness, I'm compelled to wander. I decided last weekend that it was high time to go get my bike fixed, so this morning I washed my hair, tied it back with a scarf, threw on some old sunglasses Candace gave me about 12 years ago and those pants that don't fit me at ALL(but that I'm in love with) (but seriously, they barely stay on and can be taken on and off without unzipping or unbuttoning) and walked over to Oak (after a brief yard sale stop with Shelby, where we got hanging lamps for the porch). I dropped the bike off and then walked around for an hour and a half. Up and down Oak, Dublin, Hampson, Carrollton, while listening to a couple of Mirah CDs on shuffle. In the midst of it, I thought to myself, "I am so fucking happy." It was kind of a surprising thought, honestly, but I turned it over a little and came to the conclusion that I am, in fact, so fucking happy. And, more surprisingly, happy because I was alone, happy in my solitude and wandering and feeling alive again. I love those little revelatory moments and I feel like I've been having a slew of them these last few months. I feel like I'm recovering lost parts of myself and making it whole again.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
functional algorithm design
It's been a productive two days. Since yesterday morning, I've gone to the doctor, gotten my car fixed, got a NOLA driver's license, renewed my registration, drank a bunch of whiskey and got my hair cut. Later, I'm going to work on a paper, order a school book and go to a Mardi Gras parade.
The doctor visit went really well. Dr. Moore spent about 10 minutes talking with me about my various health concerns, mostly regarding the PCOS. I told her I'd been off my medication for awhile and had some dizzy spells and one fainting incident. Nevertheless, she feels I was on entirely too much medication. She ordered a basic metabolic panel to check, among other things, cholesterol, blood sugar and white blood cell count (which could be a factor in the dizziness). After we get those values, we'll talk about possibly starting me back on insulin-resistance medication.
I also spoke to her about getting the Garadisil shot, which she recommended. I've been meaning to get that done for awhile. I went ahead and asked for a full STD screening as well (5 tubes of blood!), because I like being assured of a clean bill of health.
That said, I'm a tiny bit worried because, during the exam, she found some nodules in my right breast. She said that sometimes women get those right before a period, which would make sense for me, but if the're not gone in 2 weeks, we'll need to do a breast ultrasound. But my mom gets those as well and I hear they're fairly common, so hopefully it's nothing.
I came to BR afterwards and dropped my car off at the mechanic. As it turns out, the only thing really wrong with the car was a busted air hose, which was causing the machine at Auto Zone to register a broken fuel filter and a defective MAF sensor as well. Mom and I had lunch and went to the DMV, where I was both amused and disturbed by the amount of total freaks present, including one batshit lady who was telling a group of people in line about how "the federal government gives all our taxes to foreign banks and steals from us!" She was starting some kind of community task force to take on the government. Another man talked of a machine he had built that cures cancer but wasn't approved by the FDA because they don't like Chinese people.
Mom dragged me out shopping (and bought me new jeans and a spoon rest as compensation, even though I asked her not to) until my car was ready. I met up with Christie and we adventured at Perks, Whole Foods, Perks again, and Zee Zee Gardens. One of Christie's customers from Pinettas bought us 2 drinks each, on top of the ones we'd already ordered, and the bartender gave us free "chocolate cake" shots for giving her a pen. We ended the night in Christie's living room with some intense and therapeutic talking that I apparently passed out in the middle of. I woke up at 3am, stumbled into the kitchen and drank a bunch of water before going back to sleep...only to be woken by Christie's neighbors stumbling up the stairs and then singing the entire "Tommy" album, causing me to want to stab pens into my ears.
I left early this morning to go get my hair cut and now I look like a functioning member of society again. I need to work on my Medieval NOLA paper and do some reading for my ethics class before Krewe du Vieux. I'm toying with the idea of going drinking at Molly's or somewhere around lower Decatur after the parade and maybe getting some Angeli's, depending on who I can drag along with me. I want to go out and play.
The doctor visit went really well. Dr. Moore spent about 10 minutes talking with me about my various health concerns, mostly regarding the PCOS. I told her I'd been off my medication for awhile and had some dizzy spells and one fainting incident. Nevertheless, she feels I was on entirely too much medication. She ordered a basic metabolic panel to check, among other things, cholesterol, blood sugar and white blood cell count (which could be a factor in the dizziness). After we get those values, we'll talk about possibly starting me back on insulin-resistance medication.
I also spoke to her about getting the Garadisil shot, which she recommended. I've been meaning to get that done for awhile. I went ahead and asked for a full STD screening as well (5 tubes of blood!), because I like being assured of a clean bill of health.
That said, I'm a tiny bit worried because, during the exam, she found some nodules in my right breast. She said that sometimes women get those right before a period, which would make sense for me, but if the're not gone in 2 weeks, we'll need to do a breast ultrasound. But my mom gets those as well and I hear they're fairly common, so hopefully it's nothing.
I came to BR afterwards and dropped my car off at the mechanic. As it turns out, the only thing really wrong with the car was a busted air hose, which was causing the machine at Auto Zone to register a broken fuel filter and a defective MAF sensor as well. Mom and I had lunch and went to the DMV, where I was both amused and disturbed by the amount of total freaks present, including one batshit lady who was telling a group of people in line about how "the federal government gives all our taxes to foreign banks and steals from us!" She was starting some kind of community task force to take on the government. Another man talked of a machine he had built that cures cancer but wasn't approved by the FDA because they don't like Chinese people.
Mom dragged me out shopping (and bought me new jeans and a spoon rest as compensation, even though I asked her not to) until my car was ready. I met up with Christie and we adventured at Perks, Whole Foods, Perks again, and Zee Zee Gardens. One of Christie's customers from Pinettas bought us 2 drinks each, on top of the ones we'd already ordered, and the bartender gave us free "chocolate cake" shots for giving her a pen. We ended the night in Christie's living room with some intense and therapeutic talking that I apparently passed out in the middle of. I woke up at 3am, stumbled into the kitchen and drank a bunch of water before going back to sleep...only to be woken by Christie's neighbors stumbling up the stairs and then singing the entire "Tommy" album, causing me to want to stab pens into my ears.
I left early this morning to go get my hair cut and now I look like a functioning member of society again. I need to work on my Medieval NOLA paper and do some reading for my ethics class before Krewe du Vieux. I'm toying with the idea of going drinking at Molly's or somewhere around lower Decatur after the parade and maybe getting some Angeli's, depending on who I can drag along with me. I want to go out and play.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
tl;dr
My brain is slowly peeking out of its writer's block fog...the other night, in the shower, I started thinking about a new non-fic piece. It might actually work better as fiction, but I'm an awful fiction writer, so I'm nervous about taking it there. We'll see. Reminder to self: write notes.
Things are slowly improving with my parents. My dad took my mom out to dinner the other night and got her a card for Valentine's day, along with some roses. I want to say that it's not enough, but I hope that little things lead to big improvements here. I hate having so much resentment toward my dad...but I hate that he insists on drinking until my mom has a nervous breakdown too. I've still been volleying the idea of writing about that whole situation on here, but there are still some things I need to work through. Too much comes flooding out when you start repeating the worst moments of your childhood.
I had a fun conversation with B.W. the other night about Bob Seger, Lil' Wayne and Irish wakes that somehow led to me downloading Van Morrison's "Wild Nights" and Leroux's "New Orleans Ladies," both of which I've been listening to almost non-stop. I wonder when my neighbors will tire of hearing "allllll the waaa---ayyy/from bourbon street/to ES-pla-naaade/they sashay by/they sassshay byyyyyyy."
Yesterday, compelled by who knows what reason, I decided I absolutely needed A New Dress. I ended up buying a cute little black dress with white embroidery (and SLEEVES!), prompting Erin to comment, "you need another black dress with white embroidery like a hole in the head." (this will bring the count to 4 if you count the black dress with an embroidery-style print.) I also got this insane 70's esque red printed maxi dress. Generally, I hear short girls shouldn't wear maxi dresses but I'm a sucker for anything that makes me feel like I could be sipping drinks on a lanai (also the sole reason I own a red muumuu).
Erin and I also had the following conversation:
me: I did think of you though
I was like "I'm buying a red dress! erin would be proud!"
hahaha
is it weird that I thought to myself, of the black dress, "I can wear this to the doctor's office tomorrow!"
Erin: yes
that's kind of weird :P
me: mostly because we're having warm weather out and I like wearing dresses to the gyno
but planning your gyno visit outfit is a little strange
Erin: yes
just a little
Speaking of that particular visit, I think I'm being more neurotic than usual in planning for it. I made a list of questions, mostly about potentially getting the Garadasil vaccine and about the PCOS. I also made a list of my current and former medications, with dosages and frequency, AND I made notes of the start and end dates of my last period and of the last time I had sex. I am PREPARED. I just hate that feeling of walking out of a doctor's office and remembering some big thing that you wanted to talk to them about. And I hate being disorganized and potentially giving incorrect information (as in the case of the dates). I've also worked in the medical field long enough to know how much nicer it is for the nurses when a patient has all this together. In that vein, I also had my old medical records faxed over. Which, public service announcement, you should always do. ESPECIALLY in the case of going from specialist to specialist. I know people think it's not important, but a physician is much better equipped to treat you when they have medical notes of your former treatment in front of them. DO IT.
I also scheduled a haircut, a ride from the mechanic (and lunch!) and a trip to the DMV to finally get a New Orleans license. In Baton Rouge. Getting shit done. LIKE AN ADULT.
Lastly, I got some wonderful information today. Back in July, I got in a wreck (which, let me just say, if you are in the middle of ending your 3 year relationship, quitting your job, moving out of your apartment, and incredibly worried about money, don't get in a wreck. Never in my life have I wanted so much to just exit my vehicle and step into oncoming traffic.). Basically things went down as follows: I was stopped in a driving lane. To my left was a median that turned into a left turn lane (which I needed to be in and which was empty). I merged over and drove forward, not realizing that the car in front of the car I was behind was turning left (because she was not in the turn lane). She turned into my car, probably going about 10 mph, but enough to damage both cars. We pulled into a parking lot, her passenger left the scene and went to work. I got out and asked if everyone was okay (they were) and then I called the police. I was ticketed for "improper lane usage." The other driver was not ticketed, which was bullshit.
After this, we went back and forth with the insurance companies. State Farm investigated for a month (which involved me talking to 3 adjustors and an investigator) and finally decidd there was mutual fault. When this happened, the other driver decided to tell her ins. that she and her passenger had been injured. So there were more interviews (I mean, honestly? 3 months later, with no doctor notes, no ambulance at the scene and no passenger even listed on the police report because she was gone?) and State Farm shot that down. Meanwhile, I went to court for the ticket, intending to take a defensive driving course to get it removed, only to find out that the officer had never turned the ticket in. Then her ins. decided to sue State Farm for the costs of her vehicle. MORE interviewing. Today, I got a call from State Farm telling me that an independent adjustor declared mutual fault. My deductible, which was renewed in the midst of all this, will go down and State Farm is going to refund me $250 that I wouldn't have paid if this had been resolved before my renewal. My response, after hanging up, was EAT A BAG OF DICKS, YOU LYING BITCH. An. Entire. Bag.
I had my job eval today and they told me what a good job I'm doing. It kind of made me care about that job a little. Which was nice; sometimes I feel useless there because there's no challenge. But it pays the bills for my lovely little abode and my dresses and whiskey habits and the food remnants left on those plates that I need to go wash before I leave.
Things are slowly improving with my parents. My dad took my mom out to dinner the other night and got her a card for Valentine's day, along with some roses. I want to say that it's not enough, but I hope that little things lead to big improvements here. I hate having so much resentment toward my dad...but I hate that he insists on drinking until my mom has a nervous breakdown too. I've still been volleying the idea of writing about that whole situation on here, but there are still some things I need to work through. Too much comes flooding out when you start repeating the worst moments of your childhood.
I had a fun conversation with B.W. the other night about Bob Seger, Lil' Wayne and Irish wakes that somehow led to me downloading Van Morrison's "Wild Nights" and Leroux's "New Orleans Ladies," both of which I've been listening to almost non-stop. I wonder when my neighbors will tire of hearing "allllll the waaa---ayyy/from bourbon street/to ES-pla-naaade/they sashay by/they sassshay byyyyyyy."
Yesterday, compelled by who knows what reason, I decided I absolutely needed A New Dress. I ended up buying a cute little black dress with white embroidery (and SLEEVES!), prompting Erin to comment, "you need another black dress with white embroidery like a hole in the head." (this will bring the count to 4 if you count the black dress with an embroidery-style print.) I also got this insane 70's esque red printed maxi dress. Generally, I hear short girls shouldn't wear maxi dresses but I'm a sucker for anything that makes me feel like I could be sipping drinks on a lanai (also the sole reason I own a red muumuu).
Erin and I also had the following conversation:
me: I did think of you though
I was like "I'm buying a red dress! erin would be proud!"
hahaha
is it weird that I thought to myself, of the black dress, "I can wear this to the doctor's office tomorrow!"
Erin: yes
that's kind of weird :P
me: mostly because we're having warm weather out and I like wearing dresses to the gyno
but planning your gyno visit outfit is a little strange
Erin: yes
just a little
Speaking of that particular visit, I think I'm being more neurotic than usual in planning for it. I made a list of questions, mostly about potentially getting the Garadasil vaccine and about the PCOS. I also made a list of my current and former medications, with dosages and frequency, AND I made notes of the start and end dates of my last period and of the last time I had sex. I am PREPARED. I just hate that feeling of walking out of a doctor's office and remembering some big thing that you wanted to talk to them about. And I hate being disorganized and potentially giving incorrect information (as in the case of the dates). I've also worked in the medical field long enough to know how much nicer it is for the nurses when a patient has all this together. In that vein, I also had my old medical records faxed over. Which, public service announcement, you should always do. ESPECIALLY in the case of going from specialist to specialist. I know people think it's not important, but a physician is much better equipped to treat you when they have medical notes of your former treatment in front of them. DO IT.
I also scheduled a haircut, a ride from the mechanic (and lunch!) and a trip to the DMV to finally get a New Orleans license. In Baton Rouge. Getting shit done. LIKE AN ADULT.
Lastly, I got some wonderful information today. Back in July, I got in a wreck (which, let me just say, if you are in the middle of ending your 3 year relationship, quitting your job, moving out of your apartment, and incredibly worried about money, don't get in a wreck. Never in my life have I wanted so much to just exit my vehicle and step into oncoming traffic.). Basically things went down as follows: I was stopped in a driving lane. To my left was a median that turned into a left turn lane (which I needed to be in and which was empty). I merged over and drove forward, not realizing that the car in front of the car I was behind was turning left (because she was not in the turn lane). She turned into my car, probably going about 10 mph, but enough to damage both cars. We pulled into a parking lot, her passenger left the scene and went to work. I got out and asked if everyone was okay (they were) and then I called the police. I was ticketed for "improper lane usage." The other driver was not ticketed, which was bullshit.
After this, we went back and forth with the insurance companies. State Farm investigated for a month (which involved me talking to 3 adjustors and an investigator) and finally decidd there was mutual fault. When this happened, the other driver decided to tell her ins. that she and her passenger had been injured. So there were more interviews (I mean, honestly? 3 months later, with no doctor notes, no ambulance at the scene and no passenger even listed on the police report because she was gone?) and State Farm shot that down. Meanwhile, I went to court for the ticket, intending to take a defensive driving course to get it removed, only to find out that the officer had never turned the ticket in. Then her ins. decided to sue State Farm for the costs of her vehicle. MORE interviewing. Today, I got a call from State Farm telling me that an independent adjustor declared mutual fault. My deductible, which was renewed in the midst of all this, will go down and State Farm is going to refund me $250 that I wouldn't have paid if this had been resolved before my renewal. My response, after hanging up, was EAT A BAG OF DICKS, YOU LYING BITCH. An. Entire. Bag.
I had my job eval today and they told me what a good job I'm doing. It kind of made me care about that job a little. Which was nice; sometimes I feel useless there because there's no challenge. But it pays the bills for my lovely little abode and my dresses and whiskey habits and the food remnants left on those plates that I need to go wash before I leave.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
2010 highs and lows
This is a post I meant to make before the new year but, obviously, did not do.
In 2010:
-Ravi's practice space (The Caterie) burned down New Years' Day and resulted in instrument loss for about 9 bands
-Haiti earthquake
-The Saints won the Super Bowl
-Erin and I visited Mike in Columbus (marking my first extended exposure to snow)
-Healthcare reform passed
-Had my wisdom teeth pulled
-Erin, Ravi and I went to New York for Becky and Dorian's wedding
-BP oil spill
-Ravi got into pharmacy school and I got into grad school
-Erin moved to Chicago
-Ravi and I went to Chicago for Pitchfork festival
-Got in a wreck
-Ravi and I broke up
-Quit my job at LCA
-Moved to New Orleans
-Was unemployed for 2.5 months and went through my savings
-Started first semester of grad school
-Got a paying job with Tulane Ortho and a non-paying job with goodnola.com
-Forced myself to conquer social anxiety and made some friends
-Turned 25
-Had a wee breakdown, brought on by stress, depression and exhaustion
-Recovered and drank sloe gin 'til the midnight hour
I keep talking about 2010 as a shitty year, because in a lot of ways it was for me--I exited this year broke, single and more than a little shaken. But I also had a lot of fun this year, met some really great people, reestablished and improved on some friendships, kissed a dude or two, (re)learned that I'm able to be self-sufficient and alone, and I'm living in a city that I enjoy. In a way, 2010 wasn't so much shitty as it was just hectic and full of upheaval, which was, occasionally, pretty overwhelming. I don't think there's ever been a year where I've challenged myself so much, but in the end, I think it's paid off. I feel less stagnant. As I told Christie earlier today, even in the worst parts of this year, I never regretted the choices I've made, because as hard as things have been, I feel like I'm on my way to being a lot happier with myself.
I think now the key is building on those things--doing more things that I want to do but have convinced myself that I can't for whatever reason (time, money, anxiety, etc.) I want to make more friends or at least meet people. I want to write poems (I got started for a bit but then stopped again when I became unhappy with what I was writing). I want to volunteer. I want to write and get paid for it. I want to make changes to my body that will make me happier with it. I want to get my health issues in order. I want to better stay abreast of politics. I want to go to a bar alone and not break into hives over it. I want to be more comfortable with the person I am, on my own terms.
I'd also like to stop being redundant, but that may not happen any time soon. :)
In 2010:
-Ravi's practice space (The Caterie) burned down New Years' Day and resulted in instrument loss for about 9 bands
-Haiti earthquake
-The Saints won the Super Bowl
-Erin and I visited Mike in Columbus (marking my first extended exposure to snow)
-Healthcare reform passed
-Had my wisdom teeth pulled
-Erin, Ravi and I went to New York for Becky and Dorian's wedding
-BP oil spill
-Ravi got into pharmacy school and I got into grad school
-Erin moved to Chicago
-Ravi and I went to Chicago for Pitchfork festival
-Got in a wreck
-Ravi and I broke up
-Quit my job at LCA
-Moved to New Orleans
-Was unemployed for 2.5 months and went through my savings
-Started first semester of grad school
-Got a paying job with Tulane Ortho and a non-paying job with goodnola.com
-Forced myself to conquer social anxiety and made some friends
-Turned 25
-Had a wee breakdown, brought on by stress, depression and exhaustion
-Recovered and drank sloe gin 'til the midnight hour
I keep talking about 2010 as a shitty year, because in a lot of ways it was for me--I exited this year broke, single and more than a little shaken. But I also had a lot of fun this year, met some really great people, reestablished and improved on some friendships, kissed a dude or two, (re)learned that I'm able to be self-sufficient and alone, and I'm living in a city that I enjoy. In a way, 2010 wasn't so much shitty as it was just hectic and full of upheaval, which was, occasionally, pretty overwhelming. I don't think there's ever been a year where I've challenged myself so much, but in the end, I think it's paid off. I feel less stagnant. As I told Christie earlier today, even in the worst parts of this year, I never regretted the choices I've made, because as hard as things have been, I feel like I'm on my way to being a lot happier with myself.
I think now the key is building on those things--doing more things that I want to do but have convinced myself that I can't for whatever reason (time, money, anxiety, etc.) I want to make more friends or at least meet people. I want to write poems (I got started for a bit but then stopped again when I became unhappy with what I was writing). I want to volunteer. I want to write and get paid for it. I want to make changes to my body that will make me happier with it. I want to get my health issues in order. I want to better stay abreast of politics. I want to go to a bar alone and not break into hives over it. I want to be more comfortable with the person I am, on my own terms.
I'd also like to stop being redundant, but that may not happen any time soon. :)
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
poesie
Alyson and Cain came over tonight for dinner and drinking, after an eventful thrift store trip (I bought a dress and a book titled 'Socialism' that is going to make a lovely faux-gift for my old co-worker. I ALMOST bought a black lace sleeveless jumpsuit, but resisted the urge). While they were here, we got to talking a bit about writing and I mentioned that one of my friends has been on me to submit some poems for publication. The thing is, I only have 2 poems I could even submit and one of them is just an old reworked one. I can't find it in me to really write anything lately and when I do, it's never anything I'm proud of. Though, the poem I had published in the Delta was something I wrote on more of a whim than something I really poured my heart into. That said, it's also a poem I've never really been all that into (I'm dissatisfied with the line breaks and the last verse, but was persuaded into both by my professor and some classmates) I've decided to try reading some more poetry and see if that kick starts me. And maybe do some more-than-halfhearted investigating into a writing group around here.
Sometimes I still toy with the idea of doing a MFA in poetry or non-fic. But I just don't think I have the drive (or really, the talent) to see it out, despite what others seem to think. Maybe if I could pen something I thought half-decent, that would change.
For fun, here's my old Delta poem:
mai 1968
I have this fantasy
of running into the grocery store
past the produce and into the aisles
over-turning shelf after shelf
stacked with neatly arranged
jars and cans
watching them drop and explode
or roll towards the feet of
stunned shoppers
Liberez les haricots!
Detruisez la politique de classe d'epicerie!
then jumping into
a hot pink Ferrari
clouds of sandy dust
choking off my trail
as I race the sunset
into the desert
Free! Free! Free!
and while we're at it, here's the non-fic piece as well:
Made in America (TM)
I didn't feel like drinking, but since no one else felt like leaving, I went to the bar.
"What you want, baby?" The bartender's eyes never made it up to my face.
Cringe. "Can I get a Franziskaner?"
"Red one or gold one?"
"Red one."
"Man, what kinda beer is that?"
The man on my left pointed at the bottle in front of me. The bartender rolled his eyes and walked off.
"It's a German beer, it's like..."
"Girl, I know it's a beer! How you pronounce that?"
"Franz-ah-skaner."
"Franta-scanner? Sounds like Frankenstein!" He pointed at the cooler. "Tell me where them beers are from."
"Where do you want to start?"
"What's that one with the owl?"
"Hitachino Nest? That's from Japan."
"All right, what about that one? Foster's?"
"Australian."
"Chai-may?"
"Cha-may. Belgian."
"Delirium Treemans?"
"Tremans!" yelled the bartender. "That's what New Orleans public school education gets you!"
"Man, that shit ain't English!" He turned back to me. "TRIMINS. Where's that one from?"
"That one's Belgian too."
"Marid-sous 8?"
"Belgian, again!"
"Damn, Belgium must be the beer capital of the world! All right...Taddy Porter?"
"Hm...that's English."
"Finally! I'm gettin' tired of Belgium. Okay, what about that one?"
"Which one?"
He leaned across the bar, carefully avoiding his glass of Taaka, and squinted at the bottom of the cooler. "Dead...Dead Guy Ale."
"Oh. That one's American."
"American, huh? Yeah, that figures."
Sometimes I still toy with the idea of doing a MFA in poetry or non-fic. But I just don't think I have the drive (or really, the talent) to see it out, despite what others seem to think. Maybe if I could pen something I thought half-decent, that would change.
For fun, here's my old Delta poem:
mai 1968
I have this fantasy
of running into the grocery store
past the produce and into the aisles
over-turning shelf after shelf
stacked with neatly arranged
jars and cans
watching them drop and explode
or roll towards the feet of
stunned shoppers
Liberez les haricots!
Detruisez la politique de classe d'epicerie!
then jumping into
a hot pink Ferrari
clouds of sandy dust
choking off my trail
as I race the sunset
into the desert
Free! Free! Free!
and while we're at it, here's the non-fic piece as well:
Made in America (TM)
I didn't feel like drinking, but since no one else felt like leaving, I went to the bar.
"What you want, baby?" The bartender's eyes never made it up to my face.
Cringe. "Can I get a Franziskaner?"
"Red one or gold one?"
"Red one."
"Man, what kinda beer is that?"
The man on my left pointed at the bottle in front of me. The bartender rolled his eyes and walked off.
"It's a German beer, it's like..."
"Girl, I know it's a beer! How you pronounce that?"
"Franz-ah-skaner."
"Franta-scanner? Sounds like Frankenstein!" He pointed at the cooler. "Tell me where them beers are from."
"Where do you want to start?"
"What's that one with the owl?"
"Hitachino Nest? That's from Japan."
"All right, what about that one? Foster's?"
"Australian."
"Chai-may?"
"Cha-may. Belgian."
"Delirium Treemans?"
"Tremans!" yelled the bartender. "That's what New Orleans public school education gets you!"
"Man, that shit ain't English!" He turned back to me. "TRIMINS. Where's that one from?"
"That one's Belgian too."
"Marid-sous 8?"
"Belgian, again!"
"Damn, Belgium must be the beer capital of the world! All right...Taddy Porter?"
"Hm...that's English."
"Finally! I'm gettin' tired of Belgium. Okay, what about that one?"
"Which one?"
He leaned across the bar, carefully avoiding his glass of Taaka, and squinted at the bottom of the cooler. "Dead...Dead Guy Ale."
"Oh. That one's American."
"American, huh? Yeah, that figures."
Friday, December 24, 2010
blood-alcohol content
J: Trivia by myself tonight. Woo.
me: annnnnn
ann: yes dear
me: I am kind of thinking of going to bud's
after your FB post
is this advisable?
ann: um, always
me: I've never been
ann: WHAT
yes
go
#4
with sauce
do it
me: is the bud's on city park a drive through?
or do you have to go in?
ann: go in
you want to go in
me: I ask because I need to know whether or not I need to put real pants on
ahahha okay
ann: you don't have to put on pants
me: I have leggings on
ann: that's def adequate
me: I've been drinking
which I think helps
"GIMME A 4. URRRRP"
ann: definitely the sauce
that's the most important
(ENTIRE LAST HALF OF THIS ENTRY WAS LOST. GAH.)
(the SAUCE pretty much made that burger. Which was really good, but now I had requisite red meat eating stomachache. Still pretty much worth it. Would eat again. One day.)
Other things I have done lately include:
-Decided that The Cars' "Just What I Needed" is on my possible karaoke songs shortlist.
-Ate at Dooky Chase, a delicious Christmas present from my boss. Also got to meet Leah Chase. Want cookbook for her gumbo z'herbes recipe now. Also want Cajun French Dictionary. Also want to use "ze" as my definite article)
-Breakfast with Ann and Ravi at Maple St. Patisserie
-Getting a new phone. Thank GOD. Really considering running over the BBerry with my car. What a fucking piece of garbage.
-Reading and sleeping a lot
-Arguing with people about the fact that I am not and am not planning on sleeping with Ravi while he is down. Seriously, assholes. We're not. Because we don't hate ourselves and each other enough to put ourselves through that kind of pain.
-Shopping for a TV stand, but never again at Salvation Army, where used and abused furniture costs more than you'd pay for it new!
-Playing SNES
-Cancelling plans because I needed a night off (though I really did want to see Brass Bed and Feufollet).
I'm also thinking about not getting a Ph.D, moving to Mid-City, painting my toenails, getting clavicle surface piercings, and listening to Sleater Kinney. Those things don't necessarily have anything to do with each other.
I think I'll finish that red wine and go to bed early. Livin' the dream, baby.
*different colored ties on bags of bread indicate which day the bread was baked.
Me: Knock 'em dead!
J: I'll try We'll see what happens. My secret weapon isn't here.
Me: Whiskey?
J: Well that too. I was talking about you and your talent for remembering weird things like bread ties.*
Me: Whiskey and I are basically the same thing. Drink up!
I'm beginning to think this is true, after evaluating the amount of whiskey consumed in the past few days. A rundown, complete with drink list:
Friday:
Place(s): Work party, St. Joe's
People: Coworkers, T Leeps
Drinks: A bottle of white wine, 2 whiskey sours
Work party had an open wine bar that I took full advantage of because I had to stay and help with clean up later. I made off with a ton of food and 2 more bottles of wine. Met Leeps later at St. Joe's and drank whiskey until I realized I was past getting drunk and was moving into getting sleepy. Signed a cast.
Saturday:
Place: Eileen's Apt.
People: Eileen, Josh, Kelly, lots of other BR people
Drinks: 1/2 bottle red wine
Stolen work wine came into play here. Caught up with a bunch of people who have moved to NOLA from BR and overcame some of my awkwardness about seeing people that I perceive as "Ravi's friends." Had a good time until someone (a same someone that set off some bottle rockets in a house one time) threw Eileen's neighbor's entire lawn furniture set into a fire. Neighbor brandished pistol. I brandished car keys and evacuated.
Sunday:
Place: Bridge Lounge
People: Ann
Drinks: Whiskey Sour, Cranberry fig mojito
Ann and I met up, catched up, kvetched up and drank up. I was going to stick with the sour, but Ann got a limey mojito that I liked and drank for her (which ended up being a bad idea, as all the sugar in that drink sent my body into a 15 hour tailspin). Left after much soul spilling and hugs.
Monday:
Place: Markey's
People: Quintin & Phillip
Drinks: 3? whiskey sours
P was in town from China. I met him and Q in the Bywater (without getting lost/accidentally driving to the 9th ward) and we played lots of shuffleboard. I was awesome and dominated. Assisted with trivia by knowing the treaty that ended WWI, which U.S. presidents were assassinated, Napoleon's last battle and what Christmas character was created in 1939. Ravi came into town this night but I left the bar before he got there. Watched the eclipse until 2am, went to sleep, was awakened by Ravi tap, tap, tapping on my bedroom window because I left him a key, but still deadbolted the door. Destroyed any lingering feelings Ravi might have still had for me by wandering out on my couch with crazy hair, sleepy/confused/angry face and smelling like whiskey and cigs. Hello!
Tuesday:
Place(s): Reginelli's, Markey's, The Country Club
People: Ravi, Amy, Barrett, Phillip
Drinks: Bourbon milk punch
Ravi and I met up with Amy and Barrett at Reginelli's. I decided not to drink. Went to Markey's, played more shuffleboard, continued to rule. Amy and I decided to go check out the Country Club. Decided to break drinking ban upon seeing Bourbon Milk Punch special. Watched Nightmare Before Christmas and explained to Amy that Ravi and I were, in fact, broken up. She seemed embarrassed, but things were fine. Barrett and Phillip came over, also ordered milk punches. Phillip was called a douchebag by the bartender for not ordering his milk punch at the same time as Barrett did, but since he HAD, we defended him. Bartender called Phillip "baby."
Wednesday:
Place: Pal's Lounge
People: Ravi, Ann
Drinks: 2 sangrias
Ravi and I met up with Ann at what is now my favorite NOLA bar. Made friends with dogs, talked about stalkers, drank, took photos in photobooth. Ravi wanted food and asked me to go to a Burger King, where we were accosted by some people who screamed at us to buy them food and then to let them have my car. I gave Ravi a million horrible looks and an irritated talking to about the food in my freezer that is perfectly edible. Ravi stayed up 'til 4am because he drank a coffee at 1am, while I slept peacefully.
Thursday:
Place: My bedroom
People: Marla (cat)
Drinks: Blue Moon
I found a beer in my fridge and drank it, then got a very rare craving for RED MEAT. Realized that I am entering my moon phase (i.e. my period is coming soon to theaters near you. Theaters of war. Okay, I'll stop.) Discussed meat eating with Ann:
me: annnnnn
ann: yes dear
me: I am kind of thinking of going to bud's
after your FB post
is this advisable?
ann: um, always
me: I've never been
ann: WHAT
yes
go
#4
with sauce
do it
me: is the bud's on city park a drive through?
or do you have to go in?
ann: go in
you want to go in
me: I ask because I need to know whether or not I need to put real pants on
ahahha okay
ann: you don't have to put on pants
me: I have leggings on
ann: that's def adequate
me: I've been drinking
which I think helps
"GIMME A 4. URRRRP"
ann: definitely the sauce
that's the most important
(ENTIRE LAST HALF OF THIS ENTRY WAS LOST. GAH.)
(the SAUCE pretty much made that burger. Which was really good, but now I had requisite red meat eating stomachache. Still pretty much worth it. Would eat again. One day.)
Other things I have done lately include:
-Decided that The Cars' "Just What I Needed" is on my possible karaoke songs shortlist.
-Ate at Dooky Chase, a delicious Christmas present from my boss. Also got to meet Leah Chase. Want cookbook for her gumbo z'herbes recipe now. Also want Cajun French Dictionary. Also want to use "ze" as my definite article)
-Breakfast with Ann and Ravi at Maple St. Patisserie
-Getting a new phone. Thank GOD. Really considering running over the BBerry with my car. What a fucking piece of garbage.
-Reading and sleeping a lot
-Arguing with people about the fact that I am not and am not planning on sleeping with Ravi while he is down. Seriously, assholes. We're not. Because we don't hate ourselves and each other enough to put ourselves through that kind of pain.
-Shopping for a TV stand, but never again at Salvation Army, where used and abused furniture costs more than you'd pay for it new!
-Playing SNES
-Cancelling plans because I needed a night off (though I really did want to see Brass Bed and Feufollet).
I'm also thinking about not getting a Ph.D, moving to Mid-City, painting my toenails, getting clavicle surface piercings, and listening to Sleater Kinney. Those things don't necessarily have anything to do with each other.
I think I'll finish that red wine and go to bed early. Livin' the dream, baby.
*different colored ties on bags of bread indicate which day the bread was baked.
Friday, December 17, 2010
the Real
Earlier, I was in Walgreen's (which was strangely packed for 11pm), buying cat food for Marla because I haven't had time or money to go get the fancy stuff. There was a 5 for $4 sale, so I dutifully grabbed 5 cans and stood in line. When I got up to checkout, the cashier started scanning the cans
"Man, your cat is gonna be pissed at you! You out here at 11 o'clock, just now gettin' supper."
"Yeah, I feel like a stereotypical cat lady--late night, in line with 5 cans of cat food."
"Yeah, you playin' games, out here flirtin' with me and you need to be at home feedin' that cat! Cat prolly at home, layin' on the couch, thinkin' 'where the hell my food?'"
Tonight marks the finale of my first semester of grad school. I have bruised finger tips and a new knowledge of my body's extreme reactions to stress to show for it. I emailed my paper to my teacher, with a note apologizing for the heavy use of Lacan and attached a photo of a dancing toy Rabbi. I hope he likes it (the paper and the photo). I sent off my 25-pager at 2:45 this morning. Logic dictates I should be asleep right now, but my sleeping habits are shot to hell and I still have something of an adrenaline rush lingering in my system from the rush to finish. I'd write something insightful about grad school and the past 4 months here, but I can't bear to think insightfully right now. I also can't bear to think of the words "narrative structure," "patriarchal," "the Symbolic," and "Wuthering Heights." I will also never name a child Catherine. Just typing those words made me twitch. Hopefully this is all worth some As.
People keep asking me what I'll be doing with my newly freed time. It's not really so free, but I do have a week off from school and work that I'm looking forward to. I have 5 drinking dates scheduled on my calendar for the next 6 days. A random list of things I hope/have to do:
-See Ann, Phillip, Ravi, Devon + BR people in general
-Buy, write and mail Christmas cards
-Finish Christmas shopping/start and finish Christmas baking
-Take a day trip somewhere
-Make curtains for my bedroom
-CLEAN MY HOUSE. I can hardly bear it right now.
-Get another bookshelf
-Rearrange the living room?
-Unpack boxes once and for all.
-Build/buy a spice rack?
-Read Revolutionary Road (this book has me thinking about an old friend a lot lately, which has been kind of depressing.)
-Buy textbooks
-Read The History of Sexuality
-Other stuff that I know I want to do but can't remember.
Mostly, I want a little breathing room. I've been going going going with school and work and seeing people and trying to make everything in my life balance and be good. And those things are fulfilling to me, but I also just want a day that has nothing to do with someone else. That's maybe part of the reason I moved here, to reclaim that sense of myself and while, in some ways, I've felt that acutely, I also feel like something is lacking a bit right now. That...awareness (I can't think of a better word right now; forgive me) that was so accessible when I first moved here has gotten buried a bit. I think some alone time would help with that.
dream time.
"Man, your cat is gonna be pissed at you! You out here at 11 o'clock, just now gettin' supper."
"Yeah, I feel like a stereotypical cat lady--late night, in line with 5 cans of cat food."
"Yeah, you playin' games, out here flirtin' with me and you need to be at home feedin' that cat! Cat prolly at home, layin' on the couch, thinkin' 'where the hell my food?'"
Tonight marks the finale of my first semester of grad school. I have bruised finger tips and a new knowledge of my body's extreme reactions to stress to show for it. I emailed my paper to my teacher, with a note apologizing for the heavy use of Lacan and attached a photo of a dancing toy Rabbi. I hope he likes it (the paper and the photo). I sent off my 25-pager at 2:45 this morning. Logic dictates I should be asleep right now, but my sleeping habits are shot to hell and I still have something of an adrenaline rush lingering in my system from the rush to finish. I'd write something insightful about grad school and the past 4 months here, but I can't bear to think insightfully right now. I also can't bear to think of the words "narrative structure," "patriarchal," "the Symbolic," and "Wuthering Heights." I will also never name a child Catherine. Just typing those words made me twitch. Hopefully this is all worth some As.
People keep asking me what I'll be doing with my newly freed time. It's not really so free, but I do have a week off from school and work that I'm looking forward to. I have 5 drinking dates scheduled on my calendar for the next 6 days. A random list of things I hope/have to do:
-See Ann, Phillip, Ravi, Devon + BR people in general
-Buy, write and mail Christmas cards
-Finish Christmas shopping/start and finish Christmas baking
-Take a day trip somewhere
-Make curtains for my bedroom
-CLEAN MY HOUSE. I can hardly bear it right now.
-Get another bookshelf
-Rearrange the living room?
-Unpack boxes once and for all.
-Build/buy a spice rack?
-Read Revolutionary Road (this book has me thinking about an old friend a lot lately, which has been kind of depressing.)
-Buy textbooks
-Read The History of Sexuality
-Other stuff that I know I want to do but can't remember.
Mostly, I want a little breathing room. I've been going going going with school and work and seeing people and trying to make everything in my life balance and be good. And those things are fulfilling to me, but I also just want a day that has nothing to do with someone else. That's maybe part of the reason I moved here, to reclaim that sense of myself and while, in some ways, I've felt that acutely, I also feel like something is lacking a bit right now. That...awareness (I can't think of a better word right now; forgive me) that was so accessible when I first moved here has gotten buried a bit. I think some alone time would help with that.
dream time.
Monday, December 13, 2010
humankind
When I said I was exhausted in my last post, I couldn't even conceive of how I was going to feel yesterday. Have you ever had a stress stomachache? I never had before, but I ended (I guess...I don't really know where Sunday ended and today began) the evening curled up in a ball, willing my stomach to stop attacking itself.
I spent a large part of Sunday in the library, lying on a couch in the 3rd floor study area and frantically writing a paper that was due today. I started to get hungry around noon and decided that, since PJs wasn't going to be open until 4, I should go home and cook some lunch. I made a black bean burrito and got through about half of it before deciding that food was a bad idea. My anxiety about my paper growing, I also emailed my teacher around this time, asking for an extension. I went back to the library and steadily spiraled downward. I started having trembling fits and nausea. I spent the next hour and a half throwing up everything I'd eaten since Saturday night (half a burrito and a banana. substantial!), because my body deals with stress by purging. Then the stomachache started. It was this deep in my center, burning, twisting feeling...like someone had set fire to my insides and was hitting them with a mallet. Every time I'd come to a block in a sentence, it would flare up. A particularly upbeat song on the iPod would cause it to twist. Nothing would make it go away. At one point, I was on my back on the couch, shaking all over, listening to Bee Hives and trying breathing exercises to no avail. I was getting pretty worried that I was drawing attention to myself so I came home and immediately got in the shower.
I wish I could write my paper in the shower. It never fails that, when I am under tons of stress, a shower will calm me. I put my shower cap on and sat directly under the spray, letting the rain sound and the water block out the world for a little while. I sprawled on my back and let the water spray on my stomach and the ache went away a bit.
When I got out, I wrote some more and decided, around 1am, to try and get some sleep. Except sleep was a mishmash of stomachache, shakes, worrying and lucid dreams (I always have those when I'm very stressed) where I kept thinking "When I wake up, I have to..." followed by some absurd task like "write a 14 page paper on carpal tunnel release surgery...it's due tomorrow!"I finally gave it up around 5am, made some tea and wrote some more, while getting sicker and sicker at the thought that my teacher wasn't going to grant me an extension. I caught another quick nap at 6:30am and then went to work...where my teacher FINALLY emailed me to tell me that I had until Thursday(!!!) morning to turn the paper in.
And, as miserable as today was, it was also kind of a reminder of how great people can be sometimes. In addition to my professor, Alyson spent a big part of the morning talking to me, sending me funny links (and some links to Tulane's mental health services website). Nancy bought me lunch (soup, since food still didn't sound or feel like a good idea. My boss bought me dinner (which I didn't really eat, but appreciated). My co-workers took some of my work. I called my mom. And it helped, a lot.
I was talking to both Alyson and my mom about how awful and debilitating my stress and anxiety were, how it had kind of taken me by surprise to be that physically affected. My mom reminded me that, on top of school stress, it was the holiday season (she's pretty familiar with my breakdowns around this time of year), that I was probably still dealing with the breakup, that I've been stressed about money, that I just started back on birth control and that all these things combined could have a pretty cataclysmic effect on my body. She's right, of course. I've been priding myself on how well I've been dealing with life lately, but maybe I've just been pressing it all down, into a huge knot in my stomach.
I also think that the help of people today was especially meaningful to me, because last night, I wanted to be held so badly. I ached for physical contact, for someone to just put their arms around me and let me hide in them for a bit. Sometimes I joke about wanting one of those hug machines, because when I get really keyed up or sad, I just want something to stabilize my body. Since I don't have a hug machine or a hugger, I packed pillows up around myself, put an extra blanket on bed and Marla sealed me in by sleeping at the top of my head.
I spent a large part of Sunday in the library, lying on a couch in the 3rd floor study area and frantically writing a paper that was due today. I started to get hungry around noon and decided that, since PJs wasn't going to be open until 4, I should go home and cook some lunch. I made a black bean burrito and got through about half of it before deciding that food was a bad idea. My anxiety about my paper growing, I also emailed my teacher around this time, asking for an extension. I went back to the library and steadily spiraled downward. I started having trembling fits and nausea. I spent the next hour and a half throwing up everything I'd eaten since Saturday night (half a burrito and a banana. substantial!), because my body deals with stress by purging. Then the stomachache started. It was this deep in my center, burning, twisting feeling...like someone had set fire to my insides and was hitting them with a mallet. Every time I'd come to a block in a sentence, it would flare up. A particularly upbeat song on the iPod would cause it to twist. Nothing would make it go away. At one point, I was on my back on the couch, shaking all over, listening to Bee Hives and trying breathing exercises to no avail. I was getting pretty worried that I was drawing attention to myself so I came home and immediately got in the shower.
I wish I could write my paper in the shower. It never fails that, when I am under tons of stress, a shower will calm me. I put my shower cap on and sat directly under the spray, letting the rain sound and the water block out the world for a little while. I sprawled on my back and let the water spray on my stomach and the ache went away a bit.
When I got out, I wrote some more and decided, around 1am, to try and get some sleep. Except sleep was a mishmash of stomachache, shakes, worrying and lucid dreams (I always have those when I'm very stressed) where I kept thinking "When I wake up, I have to..." followed by some absurd task like "write a 14 page paper on carpal tunnel release surgery...it's due tomorrow!"I finally gave it up around 5am, made some tea and wrote some more, while getting sicker and sicker at the thought that my teacher wasn't going to grant me an extension. I caught another quick nap at 6:30am and then went to work...where my teacher FINALLY emailed me to tell me that I had until Thursday(!!!) morning to turn the paper in.
And, as miserable as today was, it was also kind of a reminder of how great people can be sometimes. In addition to my professor, Alyson spent a big part of the morning talking to me, sending me funny links (and some links to Tulane's mental health services website). Nancy bought me lunch (soup, since food still didn't sound or feel like a good idea. My boss bought me dinner (which I didn't really eat, but appreciated). My co-workers took some of my work. I called my mom. And it helped, a lot.
I was talking to both Alyson and my mom about how awful and debilitating my stress and anxiety were, how it had kind of taken me by surprise to be that physically affected. My mom reminded me that, on top of school stress, it was the holiday season (she's pretty familiar with my breakdowns around this time of year), that I was probably still dealing with the breakup, that I've been stressed about money, that I just started back on birth control and that all these things combined could have a pretty cataclysmic effect on my body. She's right, of course. I've been priding myself on how well I've been dealing with life lately, but maybe I've just been pressing it all down, into a huge knot in my stomach.
I also think that the help of people today was especially meaningful to me, because last night, I wanted to be held so badly. I ached for physical contact, for someone to just put their arms around me and let me hide in them for a bit. Sometimes I joke about wanting one of those hug machines, because when I get really keyed up or sad, I just want something to stabilize my body. Since I don't have a hug machine or a hugger, I packed pillows up around myself, put an extra blanket on bed and Marla sealed me in by sleeping at the top of my head.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
"I like it all that way"
So, I wrote an article for goodnola.com called "Why I Volunteer." It actually took me much longer than I thought it would to write it because I realized, in the midst of it, that I had never quite thought about why I like to volunteer before. I'm happy with the way the article turned out though. I tried to keep it from getting too preachy.
This week has been insane but fun. Last night, A, B & C + me went out with our professor to Bruno's, where we had beers and talked about the ethics of humanism vs. those of religion. And we talked about silly stuff too :) The good doctor thinks I should be doing a Ph.D and waved away the list of reasons I gave him for why I'm NOT doing one right now (chief among them is my GPA). He wants me to come meet with him to discuss this, but considering he doesn't remember names from class to class (including those who have had him for multiple classes), I'm guessing that if I actually showed for our meeting, he'd have no idea what I was talking about.
I took off of work today because I have a paper to finish (that I'm so obviously working on!). Before coming to the library, B and I had coffee and stopped by the Maple Street Patisserie, where I had a pretty incredible guava jelly and cream cheese turnover. It was a nice way to spend the morning, before diving into some serious psychoanalysis.
This Friday, A and I have plans to get eggnog daiquiris and go to Bed, Bath and Beyond in Metairie, in order to seek out a snowman that "pop, locks, and drops it" to Lil Jon and the Eastside Boyz "Get Low." Nothing screams Christmas cheer like a snowman singing "aw skeet skeet, motherfucker!"
Friday, November 19, 2010
pacing
Good things right now:
-People who love me and who I love
-A decided lack of cynicism
-Money
-A lot of fun lately
-New friends
-Independent study option for lit crit
-Weight loss, despite my crap eating habits lately
-Writing
-Job
-Lots of plans with friends in the very near future
Bad things right now:
-A lot of school work to do
-Never enough money
-Never enough time
-Flaky skin
This is a good pace.
-People who love me and who I love
-A decided lack of cynicism
-Money
-A lot of fun lately
-New friends
-Independent study option for lit crit
-Weight loss, despite my crap eating habits lately
-Writing
-Job
-Lots of plans with friends in the very near future
Bad things right now:
-A lot of school work to do
-Never enough money
-Never enough time
-Flaky skin
This is a good pace.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
dizzy dizzy bright and busy
In some sense, right now, I am well and royally fucked. I get paid once a month and this past check was spent making up debts from my months of unemployment. Plus spent drinking a bit too much. So now, I have about $120 to last me until November 30th and I still have 3 bills due. I'm hoping for a bit of birthday money to tide me over and I'm going to break out a fancy new credit card to toss some debt around until I get my tax refund in January and I can pay everything off. Financial responsibility, ya'll.
What this means right now is that I am on none of my medication. No birth control, no Byetta, no Metformin, no Spironolactone. Complicating this is the fact that the prescriptions on the metformin and the spironolactone have run out, meaning I need to go see a doctor again. And when I go see a doctor, they're going to want to run bloodwork to see what's going on and I'm willing to bet they'll want to run a glucose test. In short, this will be expensive. So, I'm not sure what to do here. I'm looking at different doctors I can see and there's a possibility that I can have the bloodwork drawn and run at my old job (where it would be free), but that would mean driving to Baton Rouge. I'm worrying a lot about this, because not being on my medication is having some really noticible effects. My skin is flaking and breaking out (this is not just due to colder weather. My skin has never done this before.), which is very sexy, as you might imagine. When I eat any sugar, I feel awful. It literally hurts. My co workers bought me a birthday cake today and I had one small piece. I've spent the hour and a half since, shivering, aching and blinking to try and erase the bluriness. I don't know how to describe your blood hurting but that's what it feels like. It burns and aches deep in my veins. This, in turn, makes me incredibly anxious. I'm a fucking bag of laughs to be around right now. A few weeks ago, I went out drinking with J and I had 2 whiskey sours on an empty stomach. 20 minutes later, I very nearly passed out at the bar. Even when I DO eat right (and I'm trying very hard to do that), I still feel awful. I've been sleeping a lot lately and I'm still constantly exhausted and sick feeling. Coffee almost makes it worse. So I've been taking vitamins and drinking tons of water. It's the best I can do right now.
So anyway, I don't know what I'm going to do right now. I've started drawing up a budget, a vert strict budget and I HAVE to make myself stick to it. I've budgeted the cost of the medications after insurance (which won't be accurate soon anyway, FUCK.) and if I can't get them filled again, I'll throw that money into savings (no money is currently budgeted for savings. I have to pay shit off first.). Christmas gifts are probably not happening this year, except maybe the parents, and even then they're going to be cheap. I might just bake for everyone. That depresses me though, because I really enjoy giving gifts to people. I'd had this whole plan to make preserves for people and give them out but, as cheap as that might be, I don't think it's in the budget.
Even with all that though, life isn't terrible. My mom is taking me to dinner for my birthday (which is Saturday). Christie is coming to visit for the weekend and we're going to write and walk and drink wine (great idea, right?) and I might make some chana masala and roasted cauliflower because I have the ingredients and it is cheap and delicious. I was invited to a party on Sunday by a classmate (the same one who offered to let me shower at her place when my hot water went out) and she's coming over, with another classmate, on Tuesday to hang out, so I'm excited about that. Genuinely excited because both of them are people I've wanted to get to know better for most of the semester. Also because, hey ma! I done made some friends in this here big city! I'm writing, both publically for goodnola and privately. As in poems. As in, wow, I have written nothing new in almost two years but this is happening. I don't have much time between school and work and homework, but, despite everything, things are good. I just hope I don't pass out.
What this means right now is that I am on none of my medication. No birth control, no Byetta, no Metformin, no Spironolactone. Complicating this is the fact that the prescriptions on the metformin and the spironolactone have run out, meaning I need to go see a doctor again. And when I go see a doctor, they're going to want to run bloodwork to see what's going on and I'm willing to bet they'll want to run a glucose test. In short, this will be expensive. So, I'm not sure what to do here. I'm looking at different doctors I can see and there's a possibility that I can have the bloodwork drawn and run at my old job (where it would be free), but that would mean driving to Baton Rouge. I'm worrying a lot about this, because not being on my medication is having some really noticible effects. My skin is flaking and breaking out (this is not just due to colder weather. My skin has never done this before.), which is very sexy, as you might imagine. When I eat any sugar, I feel awful. It literally hurts. My co workers bought me a birthday cake today and I had one small piece. I've spent the hour and a half since, shivering, aching and blinking to try and erase the bluriness. I don't know how to describe your blood hurting but that's what it feels like. It burns and aches deep in my veins. This, in turn, makes me incredibly anxious. I'm a fucking bag of laughs to be around right now. A few weeks ago, I went out drinking with J and I had 2 whiskey sours on an empty stomach. 20 minutes later, I very nearly passed out at the bar. Even when I DO eat right (and I'm trying very hard to do that), I still feel awful. I've been sleeping a lot lately and I'm still constantly exhausted and sick feeling. Coffee almost makes it worse. So I've been taking vitamins and drinking tons of water. It's the best I can do right now.
So anyway, I don't know what I'm going to do right now. I've started drawing up a budget, a vert strict budget and I HAVE to make myself stick to it. I've budgeted the cost of the medications after insurance (which won't be accurate soon anyway, FUCK.) and if I can't get them filled again, I'll throw that money into savings (no money is currently budgeted for savings. I have to pay shit off first.). Christmas gifts are probably not happening this year, except maybe the parents, and even then they're going to be cheap. I might just bake for everyone. That depresses me though, because I really enjoy giving gifts to people. I'd had this whole plan to make preserves for people and give them out but, as cheap as that might be, I don't think it's in the budget.
Even with all that though, life isn't terrible. My mom is taking me to dinner for my birthday (which is Saturday). Christie is coming to visit for the weekend and we're going to write and walk and drink wine (great idea, right?) and I might make some chana masala and roasted cauliflower because I have the ingredients and it is cheap and delicious. I was invited to a party on Sunday by a classmate (the same one who offered to let me shower at her place when my hot water went out) and she's coming over, with another classmate, on Tuesday to hang out, so I'm excited about that. Genuinely excited because both of them are people I've wanted to get to know better for most of the semester. Also because, hey ma! I done made some friends in this here big city! I'm writing, both publically for goodnola and privately. As in poems. As in, wow, I have written nothing new in almost two years but this is happening. I don't have much time between school and work and homework, but, despite everything, things are good. I just hope I don't pass out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)