Blather, rinse, repeat

I'm writing this quick update on yet another new laptop. Like I mentioned, my Mac is dying a protracted, painful death, so I had been using the little Toshiba I got last year. Well, during our family Xmas celebration on the 26th, I stupidly put the damn thing on top of Mom's freezer to make some room. My cousin didn't see it up there, opened the freezer to put in some ice cream she'd bought, and CRASH went the laptop, breaking it entirely. 100% my fault for putting it up there. Lucky thing it didn't land on her head. I still feel really bad about it.

The holidays were good this year, though. I'm a little sad that I forgot to do my annual “end-of-year” memes on LJ. I'm sad, actually, that I haven't been on LJ a lot. In fact, honestly, I'm sad that LJ in general is just about done and that everyone has moved to Tumblr. Even me. I still feel faithful to LJ even if I'm not on it often.

But yeah, Christmas was good. We had a lot of people over, and we bought those cracker things you see on Doctor Who all the time, and everyone got stupid prizes and a crown to wear. To me, it was awesome. It was all a bit much for CJ, who has started to have this separation anxiety and stranger danger kind of thing. He's still in that phase, too. He only wants Mommy and Grandma and sometimes Jo-chan. Everyone else scares him if they get too close.

Speaking of, I took both dogs to the vet yesterday for their blood work and checkup. It was just me, the two dogs, and CJ. I was just trying to keep them all in one place while we waited. It wasn't so bad until this bratty kid, maybe around 3 or 4 years old or something, came up to us and started bothering Haku first. I told him to stop, that Haku would bite him. He asked if he could pet Sano and I said okay (Sano really loves kids,) but don't get near his face. Then the bratty kid went up to the carseat and peeked in. “Is that your baby?” I told him yes, and then took CJ out of the carseat, because I didn't want Bratty Kid to start touching him. Once he was out, Bratty Kid started getting in CJ's face and growling and barking at him.

WTF. So I said, “Where's your mother?” really loud. Finally his mom came over and dragged him away, Bratty Kid screaming and hollering all the way. Then he frigging CAME BACK and started doing the same thing again. I looked Bratty Kid in the eye and said, “My dog is going to bite you if you keep doing that to the baby.” Once again, his mom came over and pulled him away, promising him candy if he would behave.

I sat there thinking, “Please don't ever let me be that negligent Mom of a bratty kid who bullies little babies.” I know toddlers are pre-rational, but there was something up with that kid the way he was acting so mean. And with her making promises of candy to get him to stop... I dunno, I realize I'm not there yet and there's no telling what CJ is going to be like so maybe I shouldn't judge. I just know that if he started picking on babies and getting into strange dogs' faces, we'd be having some serious talks.

Anyway, the good news is that both dogs look really good. I got the blood test results today. Sano's blood is perfect! (*knock wood*) His arthritis is getting pretty bad and the lipomas on his sides are getting big. But his insides are all good. Haku's liver value is up from last year, by about 100 points (up to 317 she said) but it's not a significant increase for a dog on so many meds. She said that she's seen dogs his age with higher values than that, who aren't on meds. And his chloride is actually down from last year!

I'm not clear on the chloride. We think it's related to the potassium bromide he's on, but she mentioned that it had to do with the potassium-sodium pumps and my brain went “Oh well that's cell biology, the exchange of potassium and sodium via the pump inside each cell, doesn't that have something to do with action potential or something something it's been a long time since A&P...” and I started to wonder if maybe it was related to epilepsy. He was having lots of seizures last year and his chloride was high. This year it's lower, and—I feel like I'm jinxing this just by writing about it—he hasn't had a seizure in 4 months. FOUR MONTHS. That's a record. And I have no idea why. But maybe the chloride level is related to seizure activity. It's worth a google, which is what I'll do once I'm done typing this.

So, I started this entry this morning, then CJ woke up and we drove to the north fork to visit my boss at work, just for a social sort of thing. There was a horrific accident this morning. One of my cousin's friends lost her life in it. Nothing more terrifying than these random accidents. Can't stop thinking about it. It was about a mile from my house. So we were able to get out of town without any issues, but coming back, there were detours on the main road to my road. They said they'd have it all gone by noon. We came back at 1 and the detours were still in place. So they made me go all the way to Hampton Bays to go around... And of course, there was another detour on the other side. I pulled over to the shoulder of the road, opened the door and asked the cop, “I live just up the road. How do I get home?” He just stood in the road yelling at me that it wasn't his problem the roads were closed, and to go the other way. I said “Well, that side is closed too. I have to get my baby home.” By this time CJ was way late for lunch and his nap and he was crying. The cop was super douchey and just stood there yelling about how it wasn't his problem. PROTECT AND SERVE, BRO. So I yelled back, “YOU'RE THE OPPOSITE OF HELPFUL!” and slammed the door shut while he was still ranting about how none of this was his problem. Then, instead of collecting my wits, I yelled, “This is so stupid and it's made me REALLY ANGRY.” I looked into the backseat to check on CJ and I saw his little lip wibble, and then he just busted out with a full-hearted cry. And, oh man, he cried and cried for the next half hour that it took us to get back to the other detour.

The cops on that side were nice; when I told them I lived on this road they let me go through. Why couldn't the other cop do that? No idea. Baby cried—wailed, really—all the way home. And I know it was because he knew I was upset.

So we got home to a late lunch and a late nap. But. We got home to a late lunch and a late nap. We were inconvenienced and the cop was a bag of dicks and CJ was hungry and tired and I was angry. But we got home. And the people in the car accident didn't. Even when I'm pissed off and nervous, I am still thankful every single day. Though, I should probably not have shown my anger and frustration, because it really upset the baby.

Well, anyway. He's asleep on my lap now and, I don't know, maybe I'll read a short fic or something before he wakes up.

Oh yeah, and one more thing! Anyone who gets Pivot TV should watch the new HitRECord show. I'm going to be in two episodes of it. :D Yay! And I'm on the Don Jon DVD briefly, too! Buy it, so that I get paid! ;)

And be thankful every day!

Addendum: I just read my last entry re: ancestry.com where I was looking for the Plantagenets. And guess what! A few branches over, there they were! Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine are my 28th great grandparents. :D WOW!

So, this is pretty neat. When I was finishing up at work on Tuesday, the receptionist pulled me aside and said, "I have to tell you, you broke a record around here. Everyone who has had an appointment with you has rebooked. You have the first ever 100% re-book rate." I was floored by this. She went on to tell me that out of everyone who left my room, even the ones who usually just pay and leave had something positive to say.
That really, really made my day.

Although on Saturday, for some reason, I only had one appointment. That kind of really effed up my paycheck this week. I know I've got to get used to tips being inconsistent, but I do hope that the work itself will eventually be consistent.

Especially now, since I will have one more expense that I hadn't planned for (aside from vet bills,) and also because today I dropped my camera into the bay and I need a new one. :/ I will have to get one ASAP which means I'll have to, for the first time ever, actually open my piggy bank and pull out a few hundred dollars to avoid putting a camera on my credit card.

Then, I'll just start over with my piggy bank. ^_^ Yes, I keep an actual one. My best friend gave it to me and I can't believe how helpful it's been.

In other good news, my Mom has had lots and lots of praise for her job, too. She's getting all these extra responsibilities and is largely agreed to be the best one there. That's pretty huge. I'm so pleased that she not only enjoys her job, but apparently is the best one at it out of everyone, and she's only been there a few months.

Here's more good: My aunt woke up. Of course, she lost her leg and she still needs double hip replacement and probably more than a year of physical rehab. But she is finally awake, lucid, forming words, and understanding of her situation. That's such a huge leap from even last month when they were still saying she had a 12% chance of survival.

In the meantime, I've still been minding the Boychild. Working on some stuff for HitRECord (OH YEAH, UNTIL TODAY WHEN I DROPPED MY CAMERA INTO THE BAY,) taking Haku to rehab, going to Kung Fu (when I can afford the gas money,) and not putting my laundry away.

I haven't seen that dude I'm seeing in a while because he's been back in school and he lives pretty far away but he recently moved a bit closer so we'll probably get to hang out Sunday.

Let's see, what else. Oh, I know. It's cold and rainy. It seriously has rained for the last five days, and is set to rain for the following three. I mean, cool, rain and all, very nice. BUT OH MY GOD. This time last year I was putting away my winter clothes. This year, I'm still wearing my fuzzy sucks* and sweatpants and long sleeves. Come the hell on, weather. Get with the damn program.

Two of my fishies died, in two different tanks. First, Arthur the kissing gourami died. He hadn't looked well in a few days so I had a feeling it was coming. I need to get a new kissing gourami because Eames is really lonely now. Then, my little tuxedo platy Ariadne died (Coincidence? INCEPTION. BRRRRRM.) She was from the other tank though. It was weird, because my betta, Handsome Bob, had been sort of hanging around her for a while. He wasn't attacking her or flaring or anything, just kind of swimming by her and like, finning her. It was really weird.

Oh, I know what else. Apparently Saturday is the rapture. GOOD. As a friend of mine said, I always wondered why we were supposed to be so horrified by the fact that the believers would be gone, and the rest of us would be left on earth. They're leaving and we're staying? Cool. I'd deal with a few zombies if that's the case. I've got a broadsword.

Also, what was that thing about it being easier to stuff a camel through a needle's eye, than to get a rick person into heaven? Therefore I propose that all these rich-ass people who put billboards up all over the damn world should give their money to charity. And by "charity" I mean "me." It's not like they're going to use it, right? And they do wish to get into heaven. Giving all your worldly goods to someone else would pretty much assure your safe passage, I think. Or so I've heard. OTOH I've never tried to stuff a camel through the eye of a needle or really anywhere. I'm for animal rights. So who knows how difficult or easy this is?

Damn it, my stupid camera. :/ Plop, right into the bay. WTF.




*OMFG, BEST TYPO EVER. And I didn't even see it until my friend pointed out it comments. It's so awesome, I'm leaving it. You don't even need to know that I meant "socks." FUZZY SUCKS is better.

There's been a lot on my mind lately, both in my little life here and in the great big world, too.

First, a few days ago, the story broke about eighteen men raping an eleven year old girl. As if that wasn't rotten enough at the core, this article about it quotes townspeople blatantly blaming the eleven year old girl for "drawing these young men" into raping her. They blame her mother for not watching her (but not her father.) And they show sympathy toward the rapists, moaning how their lives will never be the same.

Their lives?

The reporter not only does not refute this, but he feeds into it.

There is a petition you can sign to ask this reporter to apologize for his victim-blaming stance. I signed it, and I wrote him a personal email too. This was what I wrote:

( My email to James McKinley. )

I can't even begin to figure what's going on in the last few months with all this misogyny. If they're not trying to redefine rape (REDEFINE RAPE. READ THOSE WORDS.) then they're pulling funding from Planned Parenthood and trying to pass a bill that would hold a woman responsible if she miscarries. These all came down within about two weeks of each other. I can't even lie, it's got me terrified and ready to fight.

A handful of you may or may not know, I sometimes go chat at a blog called Verita Venom, which started out years ago as a protest to the change in attitude of a band a bunch of us used to like, My Chemical Romance. Years ago, they espoused equality and women's rights (or said they did – recently they admitted that was just "a gimmick.) The blog has more or less turned into a bunch of people chatting about movies and making fun of idiotic D list rock stars and their stupidities. But tonight, I read that the lead squawker of My Chemical Romance changed his Twitter bio to read "Not afraid to call a 16 year old girl a c*** or a sh*tbag. Give me a reason."

Really? This from the dude hooking up with Mindless Self Indulgence, another rape-positive band ("Five Year Old Panty Shot," their biggest hit) I guess it's not surprising. In this current atmosphere, I guess it's a safe bet for him to be all "hurr hurr girls are nothing more than c***" because, let's face it, the Glenn Becks and Rush Limbaughs of the world have been getting away with it, and the people who are pushing those bills to have women more or less criminalized have the same agenda.

I mean, what? Does it make your dick feel big that you're not afraid to call a little girl a vile, sexualized name?

Then, similarly, we go onto Charlie Sheen, who is so filled with hate and fear of women that it's turning him inside out. And you know what, I have no pity for him. I know a lot of people who are like "Oh, he's going through a manic episode, he needs help." Eff him. Eff him directly in the throat with a jackhammer. I've known people who were ill and in need of help. This is no excuse to be so thoroughly brimming with loathing. You can be out of your mind and still not be an epic dickwhistle. It has happened. It was the same thing with Mel Gibson. "Oh – he was drunk. He has a disease." Yeah, and? I know plenty of people who share the same disease but do NOT get off on hating women and minorities. The "disease" just brings out what's already inside of you.

That's how I see it anyway, and I'm sick of it, and I'm sick of people making excuses for these poor, abused, heel-crushed celebrities. And oh, those poor rapists, all eighteen of them, being "drawn into" raping a little girl because of how she dressed.

And then, today, Japan.

I can't even think straight about this. The second immensely powerful earthquake in as many years, devastating. It does amaze me that Haiti had a similar quake and lost hundreds of thousands more people, and the reason for that is probably twofold: the structure of the buildings, and the fast-acting help. Haiti lost more lives for the simple reason that Haiti is poor. I can't get that out of my mind.

I also can't get out of my mind the images of destruction coming out of Japan. Terrified people, and beautiful, beautiful Japan crumbling.

With that in mind: a list of web pages where you can help Japan. I stuck with good old Red Cross because, well, I know Red Cross and in all honesty? Because they're less God-y than, say, Salvation Army.

Today I saw a lot of "Japan is in my thoughts," and "I'm crying for Japan" and "I'm praying for Japan." Well, it's like Led Zeppelin said, crying won't help you, praying won't do you no good. Well, okay, maybe it'll do you good, but let's be realistic, a donation, something tangible, is what's going to do Japan good. Jesus. That's not to say that those people aren't actually donating, too. They might be. I like to think they probably are. But honestly, it doesn't take a hell of a lot to go, "Gee, wizard in the sky, I hope Japan will eventually get over being crushed to dust. Umm, thanks."

Also? It doesn't take a lot to donate either.

What it does take a lot to do is, say, something like Jared Leto is doing in Haiti. He spent a ton of time down there recently, taking photographs for a book he's going to publish, proceeds going to Haiti. Good man. Strange man with strange tastes that I do not judge because, an' it harm none, whatever blows your skirt up – but good man, I believe.

Okay, and on my end? Here, in my little apartment and my little life?

Haku needs a third surgery on his leg and extensive rehab if he's ever going to even walk on it again. How this got so screwed up, I don't even know. Most dogs bounce right back from the first surgery like nothing ever happened. Haku, not so much. Total muscle contracture, suture reactions, random hematomas, two weeks in the hospital just for rehab so that they can even do the third surgery. I don't even know!

And Sano's platelets dropped again. He might have to go back on pred, which I'm dreading.

Also waiting on a good friend's biopsy results, and yet another (new) friend's father is gravely ill.

I've still managed to be in a fairly cheerful and optimistic mood, even if it doesn't seem like it. Outside of that, I have some neat things going on. I'm in a cool book critique thing. It looks promising. Heck, writing looks promising these days. HitRECord has been fun, there's a new collab I really like. The people there are consistently nice, creative, funny. I watched Inception the other day with previously referenced new friend and I was like, "Ha, Regular Joe is on my TV." :) Weather has been cold, but the snow and ice are gone.

Also, I HAVE A JOB INTERVIEW MONDAY. It's at a holistic wellness center. Doesn't that sound like it might be right up my alley? I guess we'll find out.

Okay, so that's that. I'm not sorry for sounding so severe up there. Those things need to be said, and they need to be said forcefully, without holding back.

Also, someone please randomly send me $40,000. Thanks.

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS, HOW TEH MOON GOT UP THERE? Have you ever looked up there? There's a big white disc in the sky and IT GOES AWAY IN THE DAYTIME. Where does it go during the day? WHO MOVES IT? It gets replaced by this bright orange glowing ball that's hot! Who keeps switching these two around? THERE MUST BE AN ANSWER. Is it gnomes? Is it space gnomes? Does a wizard do it?

Effing night time, how does it work?!

How come no one else has a moon? Like Jupiter, how come Jupiter doesn't have SIXTY THREE of them?

It must be space gnomes and wizards! If you don't agree, you are a PINHEAD.

Last night I finished Dean Koontz's book What The Night Knows. I read it because a few weeks ago my brother called and said that the beginning sequence was really scary.

Well, yeah, the beginning sequence was scary. And then about halfway through, I started getting annoyed with his overly perfect characters, and his ridiculous, forced child-voice when he wrote young characters. The book was about this evil spirit who possesses people and wants to murder families, especially the kids. Halfway through the book, I wanted to murder the kids.

But the part that really singed my ass was when, at 77% of the way through the book (I read it on Kindle,) it turned into a MEGACHRISTIAN TRACT.

How did I go into this story so blindly, not knowing that I was going to get preached at for the last 25% section of the story? And I mean, he could not have been more obvious about his agenda. He went to great lengths to describe the beautiful, holy, soul-saving faith of the perfect female/wife/childbearer/Ultra!Sue character. He spent two paragraphs explaining why the youngest child in the family was just like Frodo, and expostulating why she was so innocent, so pure, so like baby Jesus. Like, he actually told the reader those things. After a few hundred pages of story, he just wrote like three paragraphs actually saying these things. I was flabbergasted.

However, most of the last quarter of the story wasn't only a Christian tract. It also was such a plainly* written admonishment to anyone who isn't Christian. (*I want to stop here and add that I first misspelled "Plainly" as "Palinly." Yes, that too.) Like, the story makes a point of saying that anyone who isn't sure in their Christian faith is at constant risk of being possessed and raping and then killing their entire family. Even children of those evil pagans. In fact, that's the basis of the story. At the beginning, a 14 year old boy is locked up for raping everyone, defiling their bodies, killing his little sisters etc. Koontz later explains that the reason he was able to be "taken", even at a young age, was because his mother bought crystals at a pagan store.

I KID YOU EFFING NOT.

This is the depth of his asswittery.

Towards the end of the story, the UltraChristian!Sue wife starts to think of nature itself as "a pagan beast, hunting her down."

I think I'd have more rage at this if I wasn't actually amused by how badly the whole thing is written.

Around that point in the novel, I did google "Koontz" and "Christian" to find out if he was doing it on purpose or not. Apparently he's sort of Anne Ricean in that way, where he's all like "Yeah, I'm a Christian, and if you're not, then suck my Christian wang and burn in hell."

I feel like he should reimburse me for having read his crap story. It would have been a wallbanger if it hadn't been on my Kindle.

So, that was my review of his crappy work. Now I know better.

In other news, Haku continues to make progress at therapy. He can put his foot to the floor now. Normally, most dogs can do this a few weeks after the surgery. However, seeing as he had to have the surgery twice, and then was in a cast, and whatever else, of course he had all these complications. The therapy has to be aggressive. He has to go in the water treadmill and all of this stuff.

What else is new? Not much, I guess, which is probably why my LJ has had tumbleweeds going by. Work, Kung Fu, cleaning the house, reading, writing, playing the odd video game here and there.

I've been kicking so much ass at work that they're saying they're going to make me "elite status." AFAIK, elite status does not include a raise, however. :/ Still, that would be pretty cool, I guess.

Oh, the video game is Final Fantasy XIII, still. I like it now that the battles are a little more complicated. But every time I put the game down for a few days, by the time I go back to it, I've forgotten how to do them. It's complicated at first. But I'm only in the beginning of the game, so I'm kind of still not used to it. Graphics are so fantastic, though. The story's kind of neat, too. And I like Lightning. She's a tough broad. :)

So there it is, my ranty rant on a crappy book, and some random bits of news. :)

I am fangirling skitty_kitty so hard today, for uploading a file of herself singing so freaking gorgeously. With her bird singing along. Holy crap. Talent. She's dripping with it. I'm impressed and a little intimidated. (You'll be pleased to hear, Hati, that iTunes chose to play JGL's "Nothing Big" randomly right after your song. Awesome.) Speaking of, you best put that up on HitRECord, damn it, so I can flail for you there.

Hmm. Just had a thought. Will PM you or something.

Well, in other, less fangirly news, Haku had his pre-surgery consultation today. Apparently, ACL repair surgery has come a long way since I used to sit in on the procedure at The Bad Place. I'm pretty sure The Bad Place still does it the old fashioned way, so I was really glad to find out that Haku's surgeon is doing it New and Improved. Even though it's costing $2500 +.

I definitely have to be a hooker now. I think I'll be a specialty hooker, you know, for men with unusual tastes or something. Guys who like funny-looking gals who can just tell them jokes all night, OR! Maybe they want a gal who can arm-bar them, throw-down, or submission-hold, maybe break a finger or two and call it a night. There's gotta be a fetish market for that. Sure.

I kid, I kid. Really. ^_^;;

The worst part of Haku's surgery is going to be the post-op care, because if he so much as moves the wrong way in the first six weeks, then it's all for nothing because the prosthesis over-stretches and they have to go in again. Keeping Haku still for six weeks. Yeah.

And I was thinking, Well, in this case (the $2500 debt that I didn't see coming,) it looks like I'm going to have to not even wait until I take my state boards, and just go desperately job-hunting now, and take something really quick, whatever kind of spa work that comes along, and work under someone else's license. But, if I have to keep Haku from moving around for six weeks, how am I supposed to do that if I'm working full time? And it's six weeks until I take the board exam, anyway.

But listen to this. Yesterday I was at work, chatting with this old guy about dogs and such. He's getting a puppy and he said he just lost his old dog over the summer. He got all teary-eyed and said that most people didn't understand, that the dog was a member of his family and not a day went by that he didn't think of her. I told him that I knew the feeling.

He went on to tell me that his older dog had torn his cruciate and had surgery in NCY to repair it ("about $9000!" he said, the whole time my head spinning and the words echoing: "OVER NINE THOUSAAAAND.") I asked him how his dog did after the surgery and he said he did great.

Then I told him that Haku is epileptic too and missing a kidney and blah blah, if it's not one thing it's the other and the guy goes, "Oh. Well, in that case, you might not have him for much longer."

I just stared at him for about twenty seconds, because I wasn't sure if I heard him right. He must have wondered at my silence because he clarified himself by saying, "Well, when dogs are already sick like that, they don't really live a long life. Add on something like this and, you know."

Seriously? All I could come up with to say to him was, "Well. Have a nice day."

REALLY? Do you honestly think that's okay to say to anyone? How is that even acceptable?

For the rest of the day I felt like he'd laid a curse on me and my dog, and I kind of still want to punch him in his useless piehole. Because that was a mean, stupid thing to say. And it reminded me very much of Dr. Dickwhistle from The Bad Place.

I actually did discuss that with the surgeon and she was like, "That's preposterous. Yes, we take extra precautions with the liver and kidneys and seizure watch, and especially because he's a Saluki, but it doesn't lower his chances any more than about 2%." She explained that it was a quick surgery, too, about 30 minutes. Which is like a quarter of the time that Dr. Dickwhistle spent doing his neuter (cryptorchid) surgery when he was a puppy, and a lot less than his exploratory last year.

So I think he'll do okay tomorrow, but the recovery is going to be a bitch.

Does anyone want to hire a fighting girl for a beat-down? ;D Haha.

Last night was the first night that Kung Fu started to feel like "home" to me again. More and more people from the old school are showing up. On top of that, we're doing this drill in blackbelt that's so awesome, I'm fangirling over it.

Kung Fu has a lot of aspects for me that keep calling me to it, which I've chronicled over the years, and most of you know about. In brief: That meditative state you hit after about an hour of non-stop movement, the "runner's high," the feeling of well-being, balance, the friendships, the nakama feeling, knowing you're doing something for your health, knowing you're doing something that could potentially save your life, or even just save you some trouble. There is of course another aspect to Kung Fu that I seldom discuss because I feel like such a sell-out or a poseur, maybe more like.

But the truth is that Kung Fu just looks so goddamn cool and hardcore, it's kind of a big draw for me. I know we're not supposed to really focus on the awesomeness of it, but there are those moments during a drill like the one we're doing now when I look at all of us in the mirror and go, "damn we look fly." I suppose that makes me a bad martial artist. Or maybe not; maybe just an honest one because I think that if more people were real about it, we'd say that, yeah, we started in the first place because it looked so cool when Jackie Chan did it, or Bruce Lee or whoever. ^_^

I mentioned some folks from the old school coming back, and last night marked the return of Te Ji Nan, our young stunt boy. Or, not so young anymore, I guess, since he's just turned 16. Hard to believe I've known him since he was 10, and so wee. There are still a few of us missing, like Homeslice, Silent Boy, etc. But I'm sure they'll return soon.

Also, last night this guy I met at school came along for a trial class, too. He used to train years ago, the same lineage but at a different school with a different Sifu. This guy is super nice and I suspect I think he's quite cute too, in a super tall, dark kind of way. (But I'm not sure, because my defenses are set on red for a while.) If he sticks around, I need an awesome code name for him. He rode his bike there, and I drove him back to his house. We beat the crap out of each other in the first drill; I think that's a nice way to bond with new friends. In class today, we compared bruises. It was kind of sweet, maybe.

Oh, yeah, so school. Okay, remember about a week ago I talked of that girl who'd had a meltdown after failing her midterm? I mean, not a normal "OMG I failed" meltdown but a "those teachers are bitches, die die die" kind of meltdown. Yeah, well today? DIFFERENT WOMAN, different meltdown!

( This is long. )

So now, I don't even feel bad about thinking of her by her unflattering nickname behind her back. Instead, when I see people literally facepalming over her stupid questions and the answers that she thinks she has, I just feel gratified and I facepalm along with them.

This gets filed under "WTMFF is wrong with people, I swear."

SEE? I meant to only write a bit, but then took up half the night bitching about some chick at my school. GAH.

Onto head movies. Last night, I had a dream that I was writing my pathology paper, and on editing it I realized that I used the word "thereby" like ten times in every paragraph. I'd written it by hand and it was all, "thereby, thereby, thereby..."

The night before that, I dreamed that I was trying to empty the pond on my yard for the winter. I've never emptied it before, so I don't know why I'd do this. I picked it up (it wasn't that heavy,) and unplugged the bottom to let the water run out. But every time I thought it was empty, more water would somehow fill it up. And I'd go, "Oh, now I have to start all over again!" I know they say that water is a metaphor for your feelings, but in this case I disagree. I think the pond was a metaphor for my credit card. That, or I had to pee.

Then the night before that, I dreamed that Tom Hardy's dog had lymphoma. This is because I was worried it was what Sano had, but he didn't, and I'd looked at pictures of Tom Hardy with his dog, which he seems to really dote on.

But here's a cool thing that happened. Two nights ago, two separate things occurred, neither of which was a dream. The first was that I needed to get something from Mom's house, and I had to go into Dad's music room to get it. When I turned on the light, his karaoke machine blasted to life with the radio on, scaring the christ out of me. Of course, I stood there and cried like a fool, trying to figure out what the song was. But the radio was tuned to mostly static, and while there was a song playing, I couldn't hear what it was. The second thing: That same night, I was writing this short story and I quoted this Japanese poem: Shadows on the darkness of my heart have left me in confusion; Dream or truth? Let other folk decide. It's by Narihira. Neat poem, I thought, so I gacked it.

Then yesterday my brother called me in the middle of the day to tell me about the dream he'd had that same night. In my brother's dream, he was listening to Dad sing a song, but he couldn't make out the words. This started to sound familiar to me and I thought of my dream. He continued on to tell me that after the song was over, he'd heard Dad's voice telling him, "In the shadow of a dream or a golden thought I come to you." It sounded so similar to the poem I'd copied that it was remarkable. Neither my brother nor I are very religious, though he is quite spiritual (he's a Buddhist.) Me, I'm more of a Taoist but really without the gods. But spirituality aside, it was actually quite cool, huh? Those little connections? Sometimes I rely on them; other times I realize I have a severe case of apophenia. But if that's true of me, then other people have it, too.

I'm not sure why people have to label everything. Just because you give it a name—apophenia--and label it a pathology, does that mean the patterns you see aren't really there?

Richard Feynman addressed this, actually, because he didn't believe in such things. He had a logical, mundane reason for everything – which I really quite adore, because he would also insist that there really is nothing mundane in the universe, and isn't that alone enough? Isn't there already such a huge amount of amazement for you to be overwhelmed? And I agree with that. And yes, the logical person that I am realizes that probably The Boychild pushed the switch on the Karaoke machine when he was playing in there. I still can't find a reason for my brother to have dreamed something so similar to what I'd written the night before, though.

AH! And another thing. Today while I was at school, I lent my Mom Wuthering Heights. Mom was a little "Well, I'll give it a whirl I guess," and I was like, "OMG WAIT TILL YOU SEE, SOOO GOOD SOOO INTENSE" (sorry, Link's Queen throwback there, dramatic reading and all.) Today was rainy and blustery, so my Mom spent the day watching Wuthering Heights and eating Cherry Garcia ice cream, ahh, what a day off! When she returned the DVD to me she was like, "WOW!" And she remarked on Tom Hardy's acting, saying more or less what I've been raving about: his subtlety, his honesty, how he can deliver an entire scene without opening his mouth. She said it would merit a second watching – a rare honor. ^_^

Me, tonight I'm watching some Star Trek film because he's in it. I've never seen any Star Trek anything before, so T-Hard gets my Star Trek virginity, which I think he well deserves.

He could be my third husband, you know, since Joaquin left me. I mean, we're only just engaged since Wuthering Heights, but I'm thinking it might work out.

Anyway. That's about it for this entry. Can you imagine that I've got two more entries lined up, one of which needs to be locked?

My brain is so full; it needs yet more emptying. But not to worry; one of the posts I've got in mind is nothing more than ridiculous fanpoodle yammering. I can't stay either peeved or pensive for too long a time. ^_^

Unsurprisingly, the fantastic event I was so psyched for a while back has been canceled. It's the circumstances of the cancellation that are the true tragedy that's on my mind. I had to do a show soon after I lost my Dad—there was no way for me to say no—and it was miserable. At least my audience didn't know about my loss, and I could fake a smile. I can't imagine having to fake it in front of 1500 people who know you're faking.

So apparently, another wonderful adventure will just have to befall me.

I specify wonderful adventure, thanks.

My beloved bracelet that I am rarely without is gone. I left it at Kung Fu on accident two weeks ago. I just slipped it off and put it on a chair so I wouldn't whack anyone with it, and then I left in a hurry and forgot to put it on. "Oh well," I thought, "someone will put it aside for me." Except it ended up in the changing room, where a few people spotted it and wondered what my bracelet (with my Hawaiian name on it) was doing in there. And when I came to retrieve it, it was gone. Like, seriously, just totally gone from the place it had been left. The bracelet hasn't got a lot of monetary value (IT'S GOT MY NAME ON IT, HELLO,) but its value to me is immense and I feel naked without it.

Crushed over this.

Today I took my very last midterm. I got a 96 on the practical and 94 on the written, so that's not too bad. The girl who sits behind me did quite poorly and she had an EPIC MOTHEREFFING MELTDOWN, complete with charging up to the teacher's desk like am enraged bull, and screaming, and crying. The teacher asked her to leave the room. She did, and came back in with her wits (lol) collected. Then we were asked to partner up and she flipped all of her crap once more. She didn't even ask anyone to partner with her; she just jumped up screaming about how she didn't have a partner. And then she stormed outside calling the teachers "bitches" and such. I have no pity for this kind of behavior – I think we stop doing this in third grade, right? But I have even less because she'd held forth to me earlier about how goddamn stinking rich she was, and didn't need a job anyway, she just wanted to do this. *punch punch*


After that little show, I went down to Bursar to make sure I was clear for graduation, with no outstanding balances, credits needed, (I WILL MURDER SOMEONE,) or any other stupid junk nonsense the school likes to asspull. All soon-to-be grads are instructed to go to Bursar to make sure everything's square. Except, when I got there, I was informed by Registrar that there is no Bursar this week because Bursar has quit or been fired, whichevs, oh my god, you douches. Actually I find it quite funny because it's registration week, and hey, have fun with that! I don't have to register!

However I do need to get my first aid certification reprinted (at my cost) because they misspelled my name. They misspelled my name. I have to replace it at my cost.

I am irritated.

I stayed super late for two extra (mandatory) clinic classes tonight. And then discovered as I was driving out of the parking lot that I had a flat tire. Oh hey, that's so awesome, 66 miles away from home too! But some really awesome guys came out and helped me change it. I didn't want to screw up my car by putting the jack in the wrong place, and I know I wouldn't have been able to get the lugnuts off because it took two of the guys to do it, with one of them standing on the lugwrench. The one guy said, "This is the tightest one I've ever done" and I went "heehee that's what sh--" before practically punching myself in the mouth to stop the words from escaping. But then later on, I said, "Oh, you finally got the nuts off!" and the guy said, "That's what she said" and I was like, "Oh man! I had one of those before and I didn't say it!" They were all super cool and I got home fine on my donut tire. Let me tell you, driving 50 MPH is a lesson in self-control and patience. I suspect I need more of both of those things in my life.

OTOH I'm not the one screaming at teachers and bashing my fists against the wall when I don't bother to crack a book before a test and then am surprised to fail.

So at least there's that.

My next post will be a happy one, I swear. :) And I'm not going to knock on wood, because remember that time a while back when I vowed I was done with all that neurotic nonsense? And I was going to ACT CASUAL? This is me, so casual.

I hate my school. I mean, no seriously, I hate my damn school and I can't wait to get the everchristing hell out of it and as far away as possible.

We had our exit interviews last week, which basically means that they sit us down and tell us which forms to fill out, where to send them, and the mad stupid amount of money required just for us to walk out the door. It's a good thing we had an entire class on how to leave, because this junk is so complicated, with all the forms and whatnot, that it's beyond "paper trail."

I was all happy because I never had to go through registration hell again? Yeah, this is just as nonsensical.

Here's the best part, though: I need my valid first aid/cpr card. Which, no problem, I took the class, right? Except they misspelled my name on both of them. When I brought the cards up to clinic, I told them that they'd been misspelled and said I'd probably need new ones. "Oh, that's no problem, dinnna worry lassie, we know who ye are, LOL."

Except now that I'm applying for a license, they need ones with, you know, my actual name on them. By October 29th.

So I called the school last week and left a message: "Please get back to me ASAP, I took the courses through the school and I need cards without a typo, thanks." No reply. I called again and left another message. Nothing. I called a third time and told the operator that I needed to talk to someone who was there, since no one had returned my calls. Still, no one picked up, I left another message saying that time was growing pretty damn short, and could someone please call me back.

Yeah, still nothing.

So I called again today and finally got someone.

Now they want FIVE DOLLARS FROM ME to print up a new card. I know, I know, it's only five lousy dollars, right? But this school has taken me for so much effing money over two years it isn't even true. I don't talk about this much, but they never refunded all of my money from the two aborted China trips – even though the contract I signed said that the money was refundable. They gave me a very small fraction of it back, probably about a quarter of it. The rest, the kept to cover their losses. When, you know, my Gran died a few days before the first trip I was supposed to go on, and my Dad died a few days before the second. And the money was refundable.

So when the guy told me this today, I got all "WHAAAAAAAT! WHAAAAAAAT!" And then he told me that it would probably take about fourteen days for me to get the cards even after I did pay. Which, I don't have fourteen days because this stuff needs to be in by Oct. 29th which means I have to send it by the 27th. This would not have been a problem if they would have called me the eff back last week, or if they hadn't made the dumbass typo to begin with.

I was mad. Mad. Finally he was like, "Well, I'll pay the five dollars."

Damn it, it's not about the five stupid dollars! It's about how this school didn't bother to take me out to dinner first before DOING SEX TO ME.

Then he told me to just call the Office of Professions and explain the situation. I did, but the office was closed, with no way to leave a message.

*punch punch punch punch* I want to beat the Christ out of this place. I just want to kick the whole building down like the Old Spice muscle guy.

Loathe!

Okay, okay, deep, calming breaths. That's what I tell my patients who have stress in their lives. Deep breaths, descend your qi, meditate. Relax your entire body, get rid of your thoughts, let them float away in a balloon every time they occur.

Have a cup of decaf tea. Drink a glass of wine. Put on Barry White and give me a kiss before DOING SEX TO ME.

Also I studied my face off for today's midterm, skipped happily off thinking it was my last midterm ever, only to have the written exam pushed back to next week because we ran out of time because the school was way too busy DOING SEX TO ME with the practical.

GRRR. ARRRG.


ETA: GAHHH While I'm ranting, one more thing. I'm bored and reading this stupid article about getting rid of wrinkles, thinking it's going to be about antioxidants, right? Nope, it's about cheap, quick fixes. Hey, I'm bored, right? I don't have a lot of wrinkles to worry about anyway. But this part made me LOL:

Linda Brantley, a 46-year-old physician's assistant, sees Dr. Northington for occasional laser-resurfacing treatments, ...after two weeks, she says the results are impressive and last for several months. "I'm never going to be 20 again but if I feel good in my skin then I project a positive feeling to someone else," she says.

LOL, okay honey, you keep telling yourself that you're getting lasers and junk in your skin or whatever because it makes other people feel better about themselves.

Moron.

Here's a weird thing that happened today. Okay, a little backstory: When I used to be doing Hula shows like, a few times a month or so, this one guy hired me for some parties. They weren't his parties; he was subcontracting me. I was glad for the work, but didn't like the subcontracting because he was actually taking a large chunk of my money. Or actually what he really did was to take a small chunk of my money and then ridiculously overcharge the clients. (I normally get about $100/hour. This one time, he gave me $85/hour and charged the clients an extra hundred and fifteen on top of that, hello, wtmff.) And he said things to me that I thought were quite unkind, like "Well it's so and so kind of party, so make sure you wear lots of makeup because people like that" and other kinds of stuff. I mean, as if I don't have enough hangups already, right?

I think I only danced for him twice, but still. The last time, he sent me to this place where the people were really rude to me. At the end of the show, they declined to pay me in cash and would only give me two checks.

When the guy who hired me called me up, he started harassing me about not having gotten cash; said he couldn't cash checks. It turned sort of ugly.

So thereafter, whenever he would call to hire me out, I'd just not answer. I'd rather work for myself anyway.

Well. Last week he came into the store where I was working for my company, and said, "Hey! Aren't you that dancer?" I told him that yes, I was, but I am currently back in school, out of practice, really busy, and not dancing much lately. (All of which is true, more's the pity. I do wish it were different.)

He obviously didn't hear me because he said he still had my number and would be calling me soon.

So, no sooner do I walk in my door that day than he's calling me up, trying to get me to do a show again. I thoroughly ignored his message and forgot about it.

Aaaaand cut to today. I go into work, and this adorable boy who also works there comes up to talk to me as he usually does. We talk about guys we like, what we did over the week, etc. and then he says, "Oh, I have to ask you something! Do you dance Hula by any chance?"

O_o

I'm like, "Err... yeah. Why?"

"Because this guy called here looking for you. He wants to hire you or something?"

Okay, now seriously? Am I the only one who finds it creepy that he called the place where I do business, looking for me? After he called me and I didn't return his message? I mean, that's overstepping, right? Or am I being hyper-reactive? Because I know I can be.

Ugh, just, UGH. That is a little weird and, I thought, intrusive.

Well, anyway. So that's the wacky thing that happened to me today.

Oh, you know what else, totally off topic. I have been peeking at hitRECord and I really like what they've got going on there. I really want to contribute something to this ongoing project that I quite like. But I don't know how to get started! There doesn't seem to be a community board where you can PM people who know wtf they are doing and be like, "Give a noob a hand?"

Not only that, but my computer is running so slow it's almost going backwards. And this is a frigging Mac, so what the hell? Both browsers are dragging ass, sometimes even timing out. I can hardly even load a page sometimes!

WTFFFFFFF I AM FRUSTRATE!



Yeah I totally don't even know what that .gif is from either but it alternately intrigues and amuses me*, all the while thoroughly summing up how I sometimes feel, GRRRRR ARRRGH.










*And might eventually-potentially upset me too depending on the context.