This is apparently my diagnosis?? That’s all that eight hours of waiting and drawing blood and running tests can tell me???
I demand a rectal exam.
This is apparently my diagnosis?? That’s all that eight hours of waiting and drawing blood and running tests can tell me???
I demand a rectal exam.
No. I haven’t gotten in touch with the doctor yet (it was after office hours by the time I had a major panic session today). But in the meantime I have been distracting myself from hypochondria by cleaning and rearranging various objects in the house. I’ve even put together a little Maaya Sakamoto playlist of sad but hopeful songs that seem to be helping. I’ve also been perusing some happy outfits that I think are inspiring.
I love layers, rompers, mandarin collars, oversized shirts, vests and anything off-the-shoulder. I also enjoy high-waist, drop-waist, waist-cinching and lace. I definitely love neutrals.
I’ve been listening to bits and pieces of other things lately. Arsenal a bit, as well as Don Armando, Deadmau5, Black Moth Super Rainbow, and stuff. I’ve always been a fan of house music, and I really like Deadmau5 and Kaskade together on this track. But be forewarned..this one has some serious bass. If you turn it up loud enough on some good speakers, the bass will penetrate you in places you didn’t know you had.
Deadmau5 featuring Kaskade – I Remember
I’ll probably change my mind about this tomorrow.
I feel so guilty, I have to tell someone. I haven’t been wearing my rubberbands consistently. >_> I missed a few days in Chicago, and have gotten a little off-track. I’m afraid of disappointing Dr. Fink. What if she can tell I was inconsistent and gets angry? I really hope this doesn’t delay my treatment time too long. Starting tonight I’m going to wear them 24/7 and change em’ out twice daily like I’m supposed to. My next appointment with the orthodontist is August 4th. Hopefully if I do enough chewing and changing, I will be able to make up for some lost time before then.
I’m such a failure.
Since when did my subconscious become so open about the fact that I am a sexually convoluted person? I don’t remember all the details of last night’s dream, but…I remember the most pertinent scenes (because I just awoke from it).
I was sitting in this boy, Alex’s room (too much Sims 3, apparently). He was an artist. We were really good friends apparently, but I could sense that I wanted to be in a relationship with him. His room was a mess of clothes. When he said he was going to bed, I cleaned his room for him without him knowing/without his permission. I was hoping he’d think it was sweet.
Next thing I know, I’m pregnant (again, too much Sims 3) and walking hand-in-hand with some jock boy who was not Alex. Me and this boy were walking down a hallway in a dorm next to some girl who was apparently friends with jock boy. Jock boy and I were apparently dating??? He started accusing me of liking girls, and of still liking Alex. I told him that didn’t make sense seeing as I have never been emotionally or physically attracted to a girl, PLUS the fact that I was quite noticeably pregnant (a state I could only have gotten into with the help of a boy), though I don’t think that boy was Alex. But this jock guy didn’t believe me, and he turned to me and goes “I can just sense things about you, okay?”..and then he stormed off with whoever the chick he was with was.
I was disgusted; not at the fact that he was convinced I was bisexual. But I was disgusted at the fact that he didn’t trust my own opinion on my own preferences. He was so thick-headed and narrow-minded, and that was what disgusted me the most. Anyway, I found myself walking around in front of BNB on Truman’s campus. There were tons of people that I knew there. Suddenly I was walking around with Jay Veatch. We pointed out people we thought were attractive (this included Seth Helling, but don’t tell him that. He doesn’t read this blog). Then Jay met up with some friends and it was just me, by my lonesome.
I then ran across Melissa Dierker, a best friend from grade school, and she offered me tons of ice cream. She had ice cream with pecans, and plain jane French vanilla (my favorite), and chocolate, etc. I suddenly and conveniently had plastic spoons overflowing from my purse. We sat and talked about what had just happened. I asked her for her opinion. I remember asking her to categorize me based on the following criteria: 1) I’m emotionally attracted to guys, but 2) If I were forced to watch porn, I’d rather it be lesbian, but 3) I’m not physically attracted to girls, because 4) I’m physically attracted to guys, and yet 5) I don’t actually want to have sex with girls or guys.
Then I assume we both had what was probably a “wtfwhatdoesitmean???” moment. Melissa told me that she thought perhaps I was bi-asexual, but that the only way I would know for certain was by trying some steak medallions with my ice cream. I honestly don’t know if this was some sort of dream euphemism for a threesome or some other taboo sexual encounter, and I’m betting that the entirety of this dream (and of Melissa’s suggestion) was primed by the fact that Joyce and I went to see Brüno last night (much to our amusement and discomfort). But now I am wondering if the implications of this dream have any validity…you know, in waking life?
The statements that I made in the dream were true to some extent, some more accurate than others. I’m not interested in “steak ice cream”, nor am I particularly enticed by lesbians, but perhaps this is my subconscious self’s way of telling me that I will continue to have all of these ‘if, ands or buts’ about my sexual nature until I try something bizarre or unconventional. It sounds all well and good, except for the fact that on a conscious level, I’m really okay with the fact that my sexuality (or near lack thereof) is somewhat confusing and/or misleading. It makes life interesting….and ocassionally more difficult.
And really, what is my obsession these days with pregnancy?? I don’t even like babies…
96 out of 100 on the final. I get to keep my A for the course. ^______^
And you thought I had forgotten about Zoë, didn’t you….
I’m getting ready to eat a bowl of cereal and take my physiological psychology final. I spent all of last night/this morning making a study guide out of all of the previous practice tests and weekly exams. I also made convenient little sticky note tabs through all 14 chapters we covered so that in the likely event that he has concocted new questions (and in the likely event that I don’t know the answers to said questions), I can easily jump to the appropriate chapter and sub-section to find them.
I just got done taking the practice test for the final, which was shit-ass easy. The practice test was timed for 3 hours, (we get 2 hours for the real final), but I finished it in 15 mins. because it was just all of the old questions, and I have more or less memorized the answers to all of those. I’m feeling pretty confident about this.
When I haven’t been studying for this final, I have been drowning in the Sims 3. I made a sim, Sabrina, who fell pregnant by this neurotic, deadbeat guy who lives on the other side of town. She wanted to get married…that was until she found out he is impossible to live with. He was completely insufferable, not to mention irresponsible…at first at least. He would always leave home when Sabrina was on her way over with Alex (their son), and one time she intercepted him at the library and cussed him out. But now they’ve gotten into the swing of taking turns with Alex, who stays with Sabrina Wednesday through Saturday, and then with his dad, Sunday through Wednesday (mom picks him up after school). Actually, she doesn’t pick him up anymore since he’s old enough to drive himself now.
Anyway, Sabrina feels that maybe she could trust Robert (Alex’s dad) again now, and they have agreed to be civil to one another…friends again even. He has stepped up to the plate and has been a pretty good dad. Getting back together however, is out of the question. In fact, Sabrina’s found a new beau…Mortimer Goth. God, aging up was apparently really good to him. He’s rather attractive. Oddly enough though…Morty (that’s Sabrina’s pet name for him), kind of resembles Robert a little bit. I shouldn’t be surprised though. She likes them tall, dark & handsome. Anyway, Sabrina and Mortimer are engaged and are thinking about moving into a cute place closer to downtown. They need to be conscious of space though…Alex hasn’t decided whether or not he wants to go to live permanently with his dad. If he chooses not to, then they’ll need 3 bedrooms, since Sabrina’s already got another pup on the way.
I’ll keep you posted.
Completely disregard that last post. Friday night was fucked up. As you can probably deduce from my last entry, it was a rather quick descent into drunken oblivion for me beginning around the time I started writing it. I ended up making it into bed safely that night, but not before I had pissed on a tree in public (only once, thankfully), fell on my ass in public (twice, shamefully), and upchucked all of my insides (three times, unfortunately…twice in the bathroom and once in the kitchen sink >_>). Needless to say, the next day was positively hellish. I was out of commission for most of the day, as I slept through most of my hangover, but the times when I was awake??? I so do not ever want to repeat that….
Vodka is not my friend, and I am beginning to wonder if Chicago is either…. It’s a nice place if you’re into the business of the city and that lifestyle. But, the more times I visit, the more I discover that I, in fact, am not. You would think Chicago would be exciting for a young woman, what with all the bustling people and posh places. But I feel like a nobody when I’m there…kind of like a useless face lost in the crowd on the train or in the street (sometimes literally lost on the train or in the street..) I felt like time was moving at an eerily fast pace in Chicago, or like I was only person unnerved by it. Even when with friends, it’s easy to feel small and alone in the city when you are accustomed to a more suburban brand of isolation.
It was a pleasant week, however. Some highlights included recovering from Friday night, eating Chipotle twice, and watching Lost in Translation. I had seen various bits and pieces of the film before on several different occasions, but I had never had the chance to sit down, watch it all the way through in sequence, and really think about the film in depth. I remembered liking the scenes that I had seen, but now that I have seen it in its entirety, I have determined that it really is one of my favorites (a decision clearly catalyzed by the aforementioned urban shock).
I had an interesting ride home. I got one of those seats on the bus where you’re facing someone across a table. I was across from an older woman who was accompanied by a small child. I slept for the majority of the first half of the 6 hour trip. I was slouched in my chair, my floppy hat down over my eyes and my jacket draped over one shoulder, probably looking something like the sleepy Mexican. However, when I awoke to darkness, I remembered that I failed to bring an iPod. Thus I was forced to listen to my own inner monologue. I became really anxious and nervous. I wasn’t even thinking about anything in particular, but whatever I was thinking about was really depressing.
I must have appeared so forlorn and glazed over that the older woman across from me actually reached over, touched my arm, and asked me if I was okay. She then asked me where I was from, and this led to a chain reaction of questions. For the next hour this woman and I discussed everything from my education and career aspirations, to marriage and her children. I learned that the small child was her grandson, a one-year old named John Jr. I also learned that this little boy shared the same birthday as me, September 17th, and that one of his aunts used to work in Creve Coeur, where I live. Small world, eh?
Last, but not least, I’m afraid I may have picked up a germ on the way home from Chicago. I suddenly feel nauseous. I had an abnormal bowel movement when I got home, and now I feel like an upchuck might be in order… 😦
I’m really no fun when I’m drunk. I’m nots a fun drunk. I’m drunk right now actually. And what do I do? II just blog..You see, I’m one of those sleepy, spaced out drunks. I sit, pick a point in the room, and stare at it. That’s all I do. Even trace amounts of alcohol make me sleepy. Gods, vodka tates like shit. I’m really no fun. If you want to have fun with me, don’t get me drunk. Keep me sober. Really. I turn into a vegetable when I’m drunk. I mean, I just don’t do anything.Who thr fuck am I’I just stare at things. It’s really pathetic. my stomach iaf is fucking fucked up. I just wanna star trek I’m not one of those fun party drunks. This is why I prefer to stay sober. I have a lot more to offer that way. I can egange in meaningful conversation if I’m sobert. I can at least do something beyond staring. And blogging. God I’m so useless at this party. It’s so easy to stare. itt’s already really easy to become detached. Being drunk just makes it all the more easy. It just exacerabetes my psychiatirc problems. My arms feel numb rihgt now.SEriosusly don’t get me drhnk. I’m no fun≥÷
so sleepy. I’m just want to fall sape
or at least if I do, not memorably. I know that it’s highly unlikely for someone to not dream at all. I know that the REM sleep was there. But I have absolutely no recollection of what I dreamt about last night.
Although…to be fair, my sleep last night was brief (just a few hours), not to mention interrupted by the fact that I had to get up to finish studying for today’s psych test. I would have taken the test earlier this week, but for some reason, I have had a particularly difficult time concentrating on the material. I have been having a difficult time concentrating and focusing on most things this week actually….I had been trying to get through chapters 17 and 18 for the past 4 days, even though when focused, it only takes me 2 days (on average) to properly get through two chapters. And these weren’t even long chapters…
This morning however, I think I might have found the key…I was sitting on Stephanie’s couch dragging my sleepy ass through chapter 18 this morning. When I wasn’t dozing off in between sentences, I was looking anxiously around the room…for suitable distractions probably. I settled on the boxes for seasons 1 & 2 of Heroes sitting in a bookshelf across from me. Naturally, my thoughts snapped to ZQ, and by association to Spock. I tried to return to the chapter, but all attempts to resist this particular distraction were futile. Laugh if you will, but that’s when I had a most novel idea….well, novel in the sense that I’m not usually this resourceful at 8 in the morning.
I turned back to the chapter, but instead of narrating the paragraph with my own internal voice as per usual, I suddenly found myself sitting face to face with a young Leonard Nimoy, who was telling me all about simple and superordinate neural circuitry. He engrossed me with his unfaltering knowledge of delay and trace conditioning, Hebbian synapses, neural habituation and long-term potential as key components of memory formation and learning. He rattled off to me string after string of research finding, and I encouraged it, further engaging conversation with an intermittent, “…fascinating.” I rephrased section headers into questions which he would then answer, rather matter-of-factly, in a page or two. He walked me through diagrams and enlightened me on the activity of amnestic agents in clinically tested mice, monkeys and fruit flies. You wouldn’t believe it, but before I knew it we had come to the chapter summary.
I knew he was an accomplished science officer, but I didn’t realize just how much more credible (not to mention, sexy) he could make my textbook sound. What I had deemed the most bland set of chapters in the course thus far, suddenly took on new relevance. I retained more and finished the chapter in a fraction of the time it would have taken me otherwise. However, despite this tiny personal triumph, I still didn’t do quite as well on the test as I had hoped. Considering how unmotivated and off-track I had been in my studying prior to this morning, I really ought to appreciate the score that I did manage. Perhaps he’ll agree to help me study for next week’s final?
in my post from July 12th, because I just stumbled across this:
Totally still hot. All is right in the world again. To say that I can’t find him attractive anymore was a temporary lapse in judgment on my part. Also I’m no longer going to speculate on his sexual orientation. Not only is it none of my business, but it really isn’t that pertinent to whether or not I find him physically attractive.
And besides, if I’m so attracted to enigmatic men, then I should be intrigued by the fact that I can’t confidently determine his orientation (he apparently never talks to the press about his love life). So he’s really not such an open book afterall…I like this.
Rubberbands are incredibly painful, but extremely effective. Ah, you see…I’ve caught onto how these things work. The most painful adjustments yield the greatest improvement. And this doesn’t only ring true for orthodontics. I mean, no pain, no gain, right?
It’s a remarkable process, the movement of teeth. I’ve only been wearing the bands now for a day, but when I take them out to eat and brush I can already feel the difference in the downward shifted position of my upper teeth. Fascinating. But I have to say that when I woke up this morning after wearing them overnight…and on reflex tried to yawn after forgetting that bands were still in place??? ……FUCK. I’m going to take some Aleve or something.
But first I have some news…yesterday my brother finally obtained full legal ownership of the jeep!!! He’s mobile now! He paid it off, got his insurance, got the title, registered it, and got the keys. He drove himself to pick up his contact lenses, and then later on he drove himself out to Westport (where he works and where he parties with other 20-30 somethings each night). And he made it back home safely both times! I am really proud of him. It wasn’t even happening to me, but I felt really liberated for him. I had apparently forgotten who I was though, because later on last night while he was out and I was at home studying…I began having a more typical Ashley response to the prospect of him out in the world, driving on his own…
Thoughts of receiving a frantic, heart-wrenching phone call from my mother while at school fleetingly entered my mind. I concocted a scenario in which he had been in a horrible wreck, had to be airlifted, and was now in critical condition. Then I was imagining that it wasn’t just him who was in the wreck, but also my mom or dad. I imagined having to leave school to attend wakes and funerals. I must have cried uncontrollably for about 20 mins. before realizing something…..
No one had died…no one had even gotten into a wreck.. Nevertheless I had still sobbed all over my textbook for nothing but the overwhelming, crushing anxiety of what could potentially happen. I ended up going to bed shortly thereafter. My eyes were too sore and puffy from crying to try to read or process anything real/coherent. I then had the following dream:
Joyce, Jessica and I were preparing for Thanksgiving dinner. Really it was more like Joyce and Jessica who were cooking and I was pacing around the kitchen complaining about how I hate Thanksgiving. I kept saying that I wouldn’t eat their food. It also happened that Thanksgiving was also the opening night of the new Harry Potter movie. Seriously, most of the dream revolved around this movie (btw, I haven’t seen it in waking life yet, I have just kept hearing about it)…Anyway I was being really difficult and talking shit on Thanksgiving, and I could tell that Joyce and Jessica were getting annoyed with me. Then we were suddenly at the premiere of the new Harry Potter movie. But it wasn’t like a Hollywood premiere…it was just a huge dark theatre filled with like…high school kids, and a ton of people that I recognized from Truman.
People kept milling in and out of the auditorium with food and laptops and other distractions. Joyce, Jessica and I sat down to watch the movie, but I don’t recall actually ever watching it. Maddy, Adam and Kim Suozzi were there and we all talked briefly about our house. Then Joyce, Jessica and I left for a while. I came back to watch it again (it was just running for hours, apparently), and I remember seeing Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens in the auditorium this time. I declared to them that I hated High School Musical. Jeni Graves was there in the front row, and she had apparently scored a cameo appearance in the film because I kept seeing her in the front row and on the screen at the same time. Apparently I had left one of my old laptops in the auditorium, and Zach Klotz had stolen it. I left and then came back to the movie a third time. Jon Pollmann was there, and he tried to tell me that he had feelings for me. I was really confused by this and left the auditorium.
I went into an adjacent room where a bunch of people were sitting at tables on their laptops, and there was some exercise equipment. I exercised for a while until my mom showed up. She said some really strange things to me, and then James appeared. James and I got into some sort of argument over jell-O that had been in the fridge at the house. It was weird. The last part of the dream I remember is being in that second room with Bethany Aurand and Suzie Williams. We were lying on a tarp and Suzie and Bethany were wrestling and laughing really loudly (not seriously, but playfully). It was so bizarre….I was talking animatedly to them about something. The people on the other side of the wall who were still watching Harry Potter were getting annoyed. James came in the room and yelled at us for ruining the movie-viewing experience. Then he stormed out of the auditorium.
Interesting stuff. Anyway, I leave for Chicago early tomorrow morning. Haven’t started packing. >_> That’s on the agenda for today. And I still have to finish studying too. Wish me luck.
So if you aren’t into clothes/don’t like clothes/don’t wear clothes, etc…ignore. This post in particular is of ma new blouse/skirt/dress thing. Pardon these pics though. I must be having another lo-fi day today, because these are quite possibly the worst photographs I have ever taken.. I dunno what whacked-out camera setting or lighting situation I got myself into, but they were sad enough to where I didn’t even bother to edit them besides a crop and scale (Further proof that I don’t need to be in VisComm. Also…I will soon be in the market for a nicer camera..any suggestions?)
By day…tis but a blouse.
..But by night (i.e. when coupled with the aforementioned skirt) it becomes more of a tiered, summer party dress type deal. I also think it works nicely with these shoes. All I would need is some bling and a clutch (neither of which I own), and I’d be ready to go.
Again, I apologize for the crap nature of the photos, but …you get the idea. Btw, this is the last time I’m posting a photo of myself on this blog. I loved this blouse skirt combo too much not to post it, but I don’t want to turn into another Jane Aldridge.
If I find something I like wearing even better, then maybe I’ll go back on my word. However, I adore this thing and you will probably see me wearing it every day of the week more or less. So I’m warning you ahead of time….don’t think I’m dirty or slovenly or something. I just will be wearing the same outfit every day for the rest of your life.
Gah, in other news, I got rubber bands on today. The entire bottom third of my face feels like shit.
I had almost forgotten how much I adore El Gran Combo, but have spent the entire evening listening to songs from their latest album, as well as songs from various records they’ve produced over the past 30 years. I first fell in love with EGC the summer after my freshman year, and it has been a blissful relationship ever since. I am thinking of them again now since I am in the process of burning a CD to send to Sonya for her 22nd birthday, which is today.
I met Sonya online about 7 years ago. At that time she and her family were living in Villepinte, a suburb about 30 mins. northeast of Paris. We e-mailed a lot and might have even instant messaged. We developed a habit of sending cutesy Sanrio knick-knacks to one another via snail mail. She sent me so many beautiful things, both in gifts and in writing, and I have kept in a safe place every parcel I have ever received from her.
The last time I sent Sonya something by mail must not have been much more than a year after we met up during my 2004 trip to France. In other words, much too long ago. Sonya is currently a med student living in Paris with her fiancé Franc and their dog. I knew that she has always liked RnB, but I hear that most recently, she has also been listening to Caribbean and Latin music, salsa in particular.
EGC is a very well-known and established Puerto Rican ensemble, and perhaps she already has a record or two of theirs. Still, I thought I would share some of my favorite EGC songs with her in hopes that she too will enjoy them.
This first one is from their latest album, Arroz con Habichuelas (2008).
El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico – Arroz con Habichuelas
Also “Brujeria,” performed live here, is one of their more popular songs.
I don’t speak much Spanish, but I do know what the song is about. He has fallen victim to the wiles of a woman (of course). And while we’re on the topic, I should mention another favorite of mine that will be on the CD….
Oscar D’León y la Dimensión Latina – Lloraras
You’ll have to pardon the utter cheeseball nature of this video. Oscar D’León is terribly goofy and has some peculiar moves at points (i.e., what the fuck is he doing at 2:16???), not to mention his bald head and thick stache are inappropriately calling to mind Montel Williams…But I can’t complain too much because the man appears to be thorougly enjoying himself.
Although I’m not certain why he’s so smiley about it…it’s really a very sad song about the pain of unreciprocated love, in which he tells his lover that she’ll cry when she realizes what a mistake she has made by leaving him. Regardless, I love his voice, and I adore this song…especially since it boasts one of the most gratifying uses of cowbell I have ever heard.
So in this morning’s dream…I was at a party with this girl and her twin. They were trying to get me drunk. It was really awkward. I noticed she had posted a photo on my Facebook wall that said “I accidentally follow you. Oops” or something along the lines of her hesitantly becoming friends with me. Oddly enough I felt like I was unwillingly being forced into friendship with her as well. It was kind of annoying.
Anyway, I was craving some sort of alcoholic beverage. I felt compelled to be drunk…I also felt compelled to shave under my arms. I escaped the party to find alcohol and shaving cream. On my way out I ran into this boy. He was confronting me or something…he told me that I was ruining things for everyone who was still at the party. I suddenly noticed that I had on a poncho. I made some snide remark at him and then noticed that Allison Sissom was standing behind him looking concerned. Then I was in a black car driving through the mountains somewhere…
The rest of the dream had something to do with bedspreads, and my dad…selling bedspreads?? I don’t know…