Monthly Archives: May 2009

Mission was successful both weekend days. :)

Heck yes I carry bear mace wherever I go. I’m hardcore like that, you know.

I’m still feeling really awful in general. The waves of nausea and intermitten dizzy spells are showing no signs of stopping. My body feels absolutely exhausted, yet when I do roll into bed, I can’t turn my brain off. I lay there for what feels like hours before I finally nod off to sleep. I think it’s about time Nyquil and I got reaquainted. Thankfully, I’m able to sleep through the night once I do fall asleep (usually) without much trouble.

Still no word from the wonderfully kind Internal Medicinist I saw last week. Have I mentioned that they took THREE VIALS OF MY BLOOD for testing?! Maybe you didn’t hear me right the first time - THEY TOOK THREE EFFING VIALS OF MY BLOOD. And I took it like a champ.

I could have fed a small army of vampires with that much of the good red stuff. At least give it back to me so I can ask the vampires if they’d like to buy some, I could really use the money. It almost seems obscene to take such a thing from a person without even an offer to give it back. It’s just gone, forevers and evers, to do whatever labs do to blood samples. Huh. What DO they do with old, lab tested blood samples, anyway?! Is there a refrigerated underground warehouse somewhere with millions upon trillions of bloody test tubes? I bet the Cullen’s would like to know about such a place. They would happily take care of the old blood problem, I’m sure. (I’m assuming it’s a problem if it is in fact stockpiled, but what do I know.)

After fleeing the blood lab and successfully NOT passing out on the fifty-three mile walk back to BUILDING 1 of the medical center, I was feeling pretty confident. I just had THREE VIALS OF BLOOD DRAWN, and I was still conscious! I even made it home safely in one  piece, TOTALLY ROCKING the ever so classy Heroin Addict Arm with the bloody bandage covering one helluva pissed off vein. My parents would have been so proud.

Then started The Wait. On my way out of the doctor’s office, I was told I’d have a voice mail on my phone in 2 days with the blood test results. On Day 6, I called the office and an extremely grumpy receptionist told me in a stern voice that I am to WAIT FOR A PHONE CALL OR A LETTER IN THE MAIL WITH TEST RESULTS. Could she please just look up my file and see if the results have been received? No. Could she please get a message to the doctor inquiring about my results? No. Did she even ask my name or want to know who she was speaking with? No. Could I have possibly felt any less calm about the situation after that phone call? NO.

Today is Day 9. Still no mail of any kind. I’m trying not to panic. I’ve decided that the age-old “No news is good news!” thing is the best way to go here. Because really, if I were dying or suffering some ungodly condition, they would call me… right??

Last week, my little not-so-little-anymore sister graduated from high school and I think I’m still in the throes of complete shock. Could that many years really have passed by so quickly? So many years that she’s no longer my cute little kid sister? Instead, she has transformed into a beautiful young woman with her own unique personality that I couldn’t be more proud of. But seriously, am I really that old that she is now an adult, as I am?

It seems like just yesterday that her and I OWNED each other in farting contests; as if it were just yesterday that she came up to me proudly displaying her swollen, pissed off belly button that she’d just SHOVED AN EAR-PIERCING RING THROUGH. Not to mention the countless nights we stayed up way past our bedtime whispering and giggling through the blue truck tarp that separated our shared bedroom, and the times I’d wake up to the tell-tale signs of her stomachache that was about to explode into projectile vomit.

In those times, it was me who ran and got the garbage can in front of her face just in time, it was me who layed on her bed and talked about boy trouble and girl drama, it was me who spent countless hours watching Lizzy McGuire and Even Stevens next to her on the couch. It was me she went to when she was upset. I was her go-to person, the one she trusted with things she couldn’t trust in anyone else, not even the ‘rents. Oh we had our raging fights of course, but when it came down to it, I was her GIRL. We were each other’s best friends to the end.

I miss those times dreadfully. But time must move forward, it cannot stand still no matter how desperately I’d like it to sometimes. And I’m just going to have to accept that.

Congratulations, dear sister.

You have no idea how incredibly proud of you I am, and not just for the graduation. You are an AMAZING person today, and I can’t express how much I love and care about you. You are the best sister a person could ask for, and I’m lucky to have you in my life again.

Love always and forever,
Your ever-older-than-you Big Sister♥

Dear Gir,

You know how much I love you, but you clearly have no idea how passionately I hate pulling your long black hairs out of my teeth after taking a bite of sandwich. From now on,  if you could kindly keep your fur to yourself, I’d really appreciate it. Thanks.

Love,
Mama

Instead of screaming my outrage at the top of my lungs over today’s Proposition 8 outcome in the state of California, I am expressing my feelings No H8 Campaign style - a silent protest.

Words cannot describe how strongly I feel about both the freedom of individuality and the equal treatment of ALL human beings. I am ashamed of you, California.

Dear Derek,

Memorial Day is no longer just another paid day off for me, it will forever hold so much more meaning than I ever thought possible. Today is a day of appreciation, my friend.

Today I choose to grieve only for a moment. Instead of dwelling on the overwhelming pain I feel when I think of your short life, I laugh and smile for you this beautiful summer day.

Cheers to you, wherever you are. I miss you.

*You can read about Derek’s death here, here and here.