( 12:45 PM ) K
I just wrote a harry potter fanfic! Go me! Now must really do "Aspect of the Wolf." *sigh* Unpredictable muse...
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( 3:33 PM ) K
Which Ultimate Beautiful Woman are You?
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Well, now this contradicts the last one a bit...and then the very contradiction itself suits me. Interesting...
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( 3:32 PM ) K
Of all the grown-up things I hate the most, I hate having to deal with my new friggin' insurance. How am I supposed to schedule a surgery if I don't even know if the insurance will cover it? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Still haven't heard from Debbie and now the "will-he-won't he" wait starts. Have I mentioned how absolutely pathetic I think my life is?
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( 3:26 PM ) K
Which Endless are you?
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Destruction, the sixth of The Endless, you are a rebel. You abandoned your realm, refusing to be held responsible for all the disasters in the world. You roam forever, trying to escape what you are. Always on the run, and never facing the truth, you live in denial. It's not your responsibility, it's not your fault, and it's not your problem, even when it is.
Noo...I'm not bitter at life at all...really, I'm not...
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( 8:46 PM ) K
Just another brief note to fully illustrate how much weight I've lost. My favorite comfty jeans from Syracuse are now so big on me that, if I don't wear a belt (a necessary evil), I can shimmy the pants off my hips without having to unzip them. Even my grandmother, who's not quite all here, noticed. Still no reaction on the boy front though. What else is new?
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( 6:00 PM ) K
I have come to the following conclusion. Numerology is a crock. In my quest to "find myself," I have been seriously researching several different fields of interest. Not only do I broaden my own perspective, it helps me from becoming incredibly bored. So while I may place some credence on Astrology, numerology itself is really nothing special. The environment a child grows up in has much more of an impact, regardless of what number their name adds up to. On another note, there are too many people currently co-existing in my house. Dad took the week off, my grandmother is sleeping in the den, and Scott is done with rehearsals. Too many people. Yahoo is being funky and not letting me check my email. Ok, I can no longer sit here surrounded by all these people. Later.
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( 6:23 PM ) K
Yesterday was just another day, like any other. Nothing extremely special about it. Which means even though it was an average day, it actually really sucked, because after all, it was my birthday. My champagne birthday. 21 on the 21st. The family went out to dinner, minus my brother since it's Hell Week, and my parents mostly talked about stuff they had to do for tonight, the opening night. In their defense, I was extremely tired and I wasn't feeling too perky. I didn't get any presents I really had to open, which is the whole fun of holidays, since my grandmother gave me a check and my parents bought me server space, in addition to the yearly Broadway show. This year, or rather next year, we're going to go see "The Lion King." I believe that we got tickets for March. Which will be loads of fun then, but doesn't add so much to the specialness of yesterday. My Aunt Dianne & Uncle Fred both left unexpected and throughly charming messages on the answering machine. Those definitely made me smile, but neither Debbie or Joe called. I, as we know, am extremely vulnerable when it comes to Joe. So we got home from dinner and I just felt like crap. Being the weak soul I am, I called him. Got his machine. Left a message. For some inexplicable reason, most likely temporary insanity from dealing with three newbies at work who all continually asked me questions, I called him again today after work. I actually pulled over, into the Michaels' parking lot, just to call him on my cell. How sad is that? He was home. Without any prompting (aside from me saying, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay and everything,") he wished me a happy birthday and said he meant to call, but got called out to cover the firehouse while the crew there got sent elsewhere. I felt minorly better. Probably since I choose to believe that he did mean what he said. I'm needy that way. But I really do think he remembered my birthday, although (and this just might be my self-absorbed self here--hello, fire) I wonder if he could have tried a wee bit harder to drop me a 30 second voicemail.
Deb, on the other hand...I dunno. I'm trying to remember her birthday and I know I spent ages on her present, but I can't remember if I called her that day or not. I know I bugged her so we could go out, which was a day or two after her birthday, but I don't remember if I actually called her that day. I think I was working and I kept reminding myself to call her, but I don't know if I actually did it that day or the next...Now this is the benefit of having a blog. July 18, 2002's entry. That was the day I was wandering around in a sleep deprived daze. Just like always. Okay, so I tried to call her, but I didn't get through. But according to the July 19th entry, we went out that night, so I must have eventually gotten through. So, recap: Deb & I went out for her 21st birthday and I made repeated attempts to talk to her on that day. Continuing recap: I didn't hear from her at all on my 21st birthday and we have no plans at all to get together. Conclusions: Either she a) forgot, b) busted a gigantic shoplifting ring at the store, c) did something she thinks I'm going to "disapprove" of & doesn't want to hear about it, or d) simply didn't give a shit. I'm thinking it's option "c," 'cause "b" is just a tad bit unbelievable. I'm sure she's extremely busy, given it's the holidays, but I bet she got home eventually and logged online.
Here's the problem. I just know all my friends care about my continuing existence. It's sorta the same way you wouldn't want someone to kill your dog. You love your dog and you play with it now and then, but most of the time, you're willing to let someone else deal with the day to day stuff. That's the problem. As far as the world's concerned (with the probable exception of my family), I'm a dog.
Why the hell am I still alive?
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( 5:03 PM ) K
happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me...
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( 1:36 PM ) K
364 days have passed and tomorrow dawns the completion of another year of my life, and the beginning of another. Honestly, it scares the shit out of me. Turning 21 means I'm officially out of my teenage years and yet still alive. I feel like I've been living in a daze these last couple of months and I'm afraid I'm going to get sucked into a non-existence, simply by not making the right decisions at the right time. My birthday is going to suck this year, especially compared to last year. I want just one thing to happen. If this one thing happens, I have a ray of hope that the future won't be as bleak as it seems. I already know it's not going to happen.
I swapped shifts with a co-worker, so now I'm working 7-3 tomorrow, instead of a midshift. I really did not want to work a midshift on my birthday. Actually, I never really want to work a midshift. *sigh* Things are definitely getting a wee bit crazy at the store, given the ever-looming holiday season. I finished most of my holiday shopping & now I just have to make the cards. In my dream universe, I would be able to get four consecutive days off so I could take care of all my loose ends. Of course, knowing me, I'd probably just squander the time. We do have off for Thanksgiving, but I have to go to my uncle's house. Another family event, accompanied by a side of backbiting. Joy.
Saw "Chamber of Secrets" twice, and will probably see it a third time with my mother. So much better than the first movie. I think it helped that this wasn't based on my favorite book. I had lowered expectations as well.
You know what? There really isn't a lot to tell. I haven't been done anything but work. Screw this.
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( 5:43 PM ) K
GOING TO SEE THE MOVIE NOW! YAY!
Which male HP character are you most compatible with?
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( 1:22 PM ) K
I would like to get this out of the way first:
1. I am sleeping waayy too much. Stacy keeps changing the schedule on me so I have a very erratic sleep schedule, which probably explains why my moods and hormones are all messed up.
2. A non-boyfriend Joe under stress seems to be perfectly designed to annoy the everliving crap on me. Still have not heard from him ONCE and I am seriously debating whether I should just spare myself the grief and let things drop all together. It's rather clear by this point that if I don't contact him, he's certainly not going to make any effort to get in touch with me. Furthermore, one always has the option to avoid reading an online journal. You simply don't go to the site. However, when you post things in your IM profile, one can get blindsided with unwanted information. *snorts* Hell, he could be talking about me or Replacement #2 or one of his other exes, I don't care. But if he is referring to me, if he does miss me, then why the hell can't he pick up the fucking phone?
3. Syracuse won that football game mentioned in the 11-9-02 entries. Yay 'Cuse.
Ok, I'm quite done ranting now. I can calmly go into detail about previous posts at this time. Regarding the Molly (my golden) situation, Molly went in for another biopsy on the 6th, where they removed a sample from her nose. So she came home with packing stuck up her nose. The problem was (aside from the looming threat of cancer) that everytime she stood up and moved, she started sneezing uncontrollably, spraying blood everywhere. So there was always someone keeping an eye on her. The Vet took the packing out on the 8th and we got the results on the 11th. She doesn't have cancer, but she does have a severe infection and this time she's gonna stay on her allergy medication. She has sensitive skin, just like me. Except Molly tends to bite herself blood, whereas I scratch myself bloody. Another downside to living at home. Impossible to do my lotion ritual after showering. Never any time. God, I miss 'Cuse at times. Anyway, Molly's doing ok for now, but the sad fact remains that she will be eleven next June and that's fairly old for a doggie, especially a golden. It's 77 in dog years. I'm thinking Molly probably only has a few years left at best, which is an extremely depressing thought.
Ashanti came last night and oh good Lord. Her book was tiny. Maybe like a hundred pages. We went through six boxes of them. On the first floor alone. I don't know how many boxes they went through in Music. The store was actually fairly clean because the multitudes of people congregated in the lobby and music. Plus Security wouldn't let anybody upstairs unless they were accompanied by one of us or had a ticket for the signing. So the crowd was fairly contained, which was very, very good. But we weren't allowed into the break room for HOURS, because that's where everything was set up for her and where she met the raffle winners after the signing, which was very, very annoying. DVD Chris, who spent the night up in Music, had to go fetch my water for me because I couldn't go back there and she at least knew who he was. Grrr... But, according to Music Chris, she was very nice and very sweet.
I want to read some more fanfic, so I'll wrap this up. I went to my plastic surgeon yesterday and she said that she could fix the hole. I also said I'd let her fix me, which made her quite happy. However, the snag is that the scar tissue beneath my skin is still rather hard, which isn't surprising. All part of being a throwback. So we're thinking surgery in May, depending on the tissue becoming softer. I have to start doing, like, face massages, which sounds very odd. The surgery's just going to be a day job, a measly three hours, which is nothing. Day Jobs aren't too bad. I go in, I wake up, my parents are there. I sip some apple juice, eat some graham crackers, vomit, go to the bathroom and then I get to leave! The vomiting part is kinda optional depending on the apple juice, the drugs, and how much blood I'll end up swallowing. Normally, my parents would get me yummy soft foods afterwards, like calzones or milk shakes, but this time I'll be on a restricted diet because of the hole. So the fixing of the hole is one part and then Dr. Gallagher's also going to reshape my nose so that it looks more natural like. I'll probably be back up to full form after four days, but I dunno when I'll be able to work, since I'm not going to be suitable for viewing by the general populace and small children. While I am expecting some low-grade anxiety and self-esteem issues over this, it really is going to be nothing compared to the last one. There will be no experimental parts, no transplanting, no opening of at least two arteries, and no reason why I absolutely, positively must remain on this mortal coil because someone else's psychological well-being depends on it. I don't really think I plan on going anywhere, but now it's not such a crucial issue anymore. So that's the gist of the surgery stuff, with my next appointment some time in March.
Done now.
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( 2:24 PM ) K
I have only seconds to write this because Scott needs the computer for school. So two quick things. First, Molly's results came in. She doesn't not have cancer, but a severe infection. So kinda yay on that. Secondly, we're looking at a May surgery date, provided my face loosens up. Explanation on that to follow whenever I can get to the computer again. Probably tomorrow. S'all.
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( 7:32 PM ) K
I forgot:
Mom also thinks my cold developed into bronchitis. And Syracuse scored again in OT, tying up the score. Neat.
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( 7:23 PM ) K
Just suffered through another unasked-for conversation regarding my future plans.
Joe has continued to be AWOL despite the fact I asked him to call me when I told him Molly had cancer.
I originally wrote "aol" instead of awol.
SU is playing Virginia Tech in a football game on the TV behind me. Score's tied with mere seconds to go.
I'm now homesick for school again.
Meli posted 100 random things about herself in her livejournal and I suddenly have the urge to do the same thing.
Also found this, thanks to Meli:
I can't believe I only have eleven days until I'm 21.
Nobody gives a crap that there's only eleven days until my 21st except for me.
Now I'm really homesick for Syracuse.
I have to make a Christmas/Birthday wish list. I don't know what I want.
I'm done now.
VT just scored on overtime. The score's now 42-35, VT.
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( 2:11 PM ) K
Didn't feel like posting in this. Posted here instead.
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( 1:32 PM ) K
don't got much to say besides I'm still alive. Been working my ass off at the store and my next day off is tomorrow. Maybe I'll get to write something decent then. Physically, I'm still sickish and emotionally, I'm very confused and prolly depressed as well. I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore. Good things are happening for Debs and my brother, but I haven't heard from Joe in ages. It just goes to prove what I always said. Proves what I already knew. Last time we talked, the 29th, he acknowledged the possibility of seeing me again. However, I'm relatively sure that I'll call him and there'll be some excuse why he can't see me. No time, likely. The same reason why I couldn't see him so we could say goodbye before he left for months. And we all know how that story ended. Sometimes I think (while I do believe we weren't meant to be) I didn't so much get over being in love with Joe, but that he starved it out of me. Plants can grow in rocky soil, but they still need sunlight and water. Joe kept me apart from most of his life, hid me in the shadows, and so I just withered in the darkness. It's just as well, I suppose. I'm so used to the darkness that even a bit of light will cause growth to explode. I probably would have turned out to be ivy. Ivy always creeps and twines over everything, strangling everything in its past. Yes, I think Joe would have agreed with me that I'm in possession of ivy-like tendancies. But what does it matter really? I'm back in the darkness again.
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I speak.
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