Earlier this week, I found out that a good friend from college passed away. John was a year ahead of me, and we kind of lost touch after he graduated. In the olden days before social media, dumb crap like that happened all the time. But when the entire world joined facebook, he friended me and we sort of blipped at each other via mentions and status updates. I ran into a mutual friend (Liz) one day that happened to be his wedding day, as she was off to rent a car to drive to it. Other than that, I don't think I saw him hardly at all after he left Albany.

Then on the way to work this week I see note via facebook that he had lost his battle with lymphoma. He left behind a wife and seven-month-old son. I didn't even know he was sick. Liz told me that he had only been sick for a few months, that it progressed quickly and he had died of heart failure. (They started out and stayed close, kind of like how Carly & I were from the jump.)

John was one of the sweetest guys I knew in college. He was proof that you could be someone no one wanted to mess with but still be one of the most caring, generous friends a person could hope to have. I was part of a group that spent lots of happy nights in the apartment he had in a shabby, run-down building on the edge of Washington Park called The Willet. So many great parties, and nights spent just hanging out were spent in that place. Granted, I wasn't as close to him as some others were (thanks again, social anxiety - that was during the era where I desperately wanted to allow myself to get close to people but found it really difficult to do so), but he always made me feel like I mattered, and deserved to be included, and that my thoughts and opinions were valid and interesting. I hope I made him feel that way at least once.

I don't think I'm going to go to the memorial. I agree with what a different friend said about it - I'd feel like an interloper. It'd been too long since we'd been in real contact, and I know so little about what was going on with him. It makes me sad. But maybe some people are only meant to be in your life a short while. I don't know. But he was a great guy, and will be missed. As I said on facebook, 20 year old me was inconsolable when she found out the news.

Tags: friends, rip
Current Mood: sad

"However, you should know I disagree with a lot of traditional advice. For instance, they say the best revenge is living well. I say it's acid in the face - who will love them now? Another old saying is that revenge is a dish best served cold. But it feels best served piping hot, straight out of the oven of outrage. My opinion? Take care of revenge right away. Push, shove, scratch that person while they're still within arm's reach. Don't let them get away! Who knows when you'll get this opportunity again?"

--Mindy Kaling, from Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me? (and Other Concerns)

[thanks to quasisonic for the loan. Loving this so far!)

Tags: quotes
Current Mood: amused

I'm kind of disappointed in myself, I have to say. I've been off all of this time and I've barely accomplished anything...

{static}

Hi everyone - this post has been hijacked by The Rest of Sharon's Body - but for now, let's call ourselves the other 99%. See, usually we're pushed beyond the brink in service to the brain.

Yes, we realize that's how it usually works.

But what Brainy doesn't quite grasp is that this break was not about her.

(Ankle: Break?! You guys seriously had to go there?)

Okay, fine. Poor choice of words. This forced time off. Ankle was fucked up. Then the Respiratory Team had to go off and get bronchitis again, as if the rest of us didn't have enough to deal with what with Derpy over here being on crutches. Remember, this is the same kid that had to go to dancing school to keep from falling over her feet and who messed up her ankle crossing the damn street. So the last thing we needed was for Lungs to go and get in trouble again.

Lungs: I resent that! You act like I did this on purpose. I didn't.
Ankle: Really? Considering you're usually head drama queen around here, I'm surprised that this wasn't some kind of last-ditch grab for attention.
Lungs: I assure you, I didn't get bronchitis for the second time in six months for the lulz. And besides, we're getting sidetracked from the point here.

That's true, Wheezy. We really should get back on topic.

Lungs: Thanks. And stop calling me that. It's not funny.

Anyways, Brain has been flipping her shit after realizing that there's hardly a week until we head to the doctor to find out if we're done with these blasted crutches already, and we have yet to write the Great American Something. Or even really read the great American something. In fact, we've really not been doing much at all.

And there's a really good reason for that. See, as much as Brain is going to pout and stomp and shout that it's no excuse, regrowing bone and killing off a nasty lung infection takes lots of effort and energy. And we only have so much. It's fine most of the time to turn over all of our resources to her. When we're healthy, it's okay for us to get by on not enough rest just to get through a given week. But we're NOT healthy. Not really. We're home on this enforced leave so that we can get better. So we can get up and go back to the life currently on pause. We can hardly make great ideas happen when all of our energy has to go (at least in the short term) to getting physically fixed again.

Brain: Excuses, excuses. Just like for all of your bs reasons for needing all of that extra, wasteful sleep!

It's not extra - maybe if someone else would shut off and shut up a little earlier and let the rest of us sleep a little earlier, we wouldn't be sleeping so late, no?

Brain: You said you had some kind of point to make?

The point is that you're not the only one in this meat suit. And we're just as valuable a part of is as you are. And while, true, we haven't done much writing or reading, aren't we feeling better?

Lungs: Definitely. Thank goodness.
Ankle: Err, mostly. I mean, I felt totally better until about like, Thursday? Then I started hurting like a motherfucker again. It's like all the bones are coming back at once or something. Also, OW. ><

That takes a lot out of us. Remember how not fun being in pain was before Ankle had her surgery?

Brain: Yeah, I guess.

Isn't the whole point of this to GET BETTER?

Brain: Technically.

And, in some way, wasn't it nice for YOU to have a little downtime? To not be running on FULL for once?

Brain: Well, when I don't think about it too hard, it's not awful.

Plus, we did get a lot of other stuff done, didn't we?

Brain: Like what? Wedding Stuff?

YES.

Brain: I guess that's sort of pressing anyway. It's only 109 days away! JESUS. I HAVE SO MUCH THAT I HAVE TO...wait. I really don't, do I? Honeymoon is booked, and that's exciting. Plus, have confirmed all sorts of things I had to confirm with the venue. Invites redesigner mocked up are beautiful, just need to have them ordered and printed. I just have a few things left - like buying or ordering the centerpiece plants, and setting up the website RSVP thing, and figuring out hair and makeup. Oh, and what in hell I'm doing about favors, if anything.

And considering that it's so soon, isn't that kind of a big deal to get that shit done before starting a new project?

Brain: Well, yes.

Now, are you FINALLY going to get off of our asses about the fact that we kind of had to be lumps in order to feel better?

Brain: Okay. I'll try.

Now, can we all work together to maybe, just maybe be 100% when Ankle goes back to the doc on the 13th and we find out if we're going to be going back to our life and job and everything.

Brain: What the hell do you think I've been so worried about?? I just...you're right. I'll let everyone else get to work.

Good. Thank you.

Brain: I'll try anyway. It's not easy to sit here and do nothing, you know!

Actually, we don't know! When was the last time you let any of us do nothing??

Brain: Ummm....sleeping is nothing!

Not convincing.

Brain: Yeah, I Know.

Tags: state of me
Current Mood: crazy

Originally posted by cantarina1 at post

Current Mood: aggravated

So, after two weeks of fighting the Cough That Would Not Die, I finally made it to my regular doctor today.

Not ONLY am I recovering from ankle surgery, I now also have bronchitis. I am SO happy about this, I can't even begin to tell you. ::sigh::

I can only hope that this means that I'm getting all of my illness and badness out of the way early, and later this year, when I need to not be sick? I won't be. Fingers crossed, anyway.

The only bright spot in this really shitty time has been the actions and behaviors of my friends and loved ones. Everyone has been amazing. They've offered me rides, loaned me books and movies, come to visit and entertain me, sent me fun things to read and look at online, and basically just been all-around amazing. You guys make me feel so loved and awesome and lucky I'm tearing up as I write this.

j_bkl, I feel I have to say, has been incredible through this entire thing, too. He's gone so far above and beyond without even so much as a grumble. This is why I'm going to be Mrs. j_bkl in a few months, kids. Because so far, he's displayed that no matter how crap things get, he's just going to square his shoulders and do his best to fix things. And the rest of my family, too - my parents have been amazing (as usual) and quasisonic has been here at the drop of a hat whenever I've needed her. So that's the good stuff I'm trying to focus on.

In the meanwhile, I'm just going to do my best to deal. Maybe next week I can imitate the Battlestar Galactica skit on Portlandia if that's still on Netflix. Or maybe work on some creative ideas buzzing around my brain. We'll see. In the meantime, there's going to be bed.

Tags: health
Current Mood: crappy

It should surprise no one when I say that I love the internet. It's brought me so many wonderful things into my life. I've made some of my best friends through here. I've learned about shows, movies, books, art, and music that have changed my life for the better. I've watched with pride as this insane, disparate group of pixels swells together and achieves real things.

Which is why I'm so frustrated and disgusted by SOPA and PIPA. What are SOPA and PIPA?

They are two bills before Congress, known as the Protect IP Act (PIPA) in the Senate and the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) in the House. These bills would censor the Web and impose harmful regulations on American business. Millions of Internet users and entrepreneurs already oppose SOPA and PIPA, because of the crushing limitations they would place on creativity in one of the last great creative frontiers. What's more, all of the companies whining, crying and complaining that they need these bills to fight piracy already have PLENTY of tools to do so. They are just trying to influence policy with their lobby dollars because that pesky pesky due process just takes too damn long. What's more, pirate sites can still be accessed via their IP addresses - but SOPA and PIPA hand over blanket controls to do more than advertised.

Wikipedia is under a blackout but still has links to a wealth of information about both bills.

zekejojo posted a fantastic video that I feel breaks it down perfectly:

PROTECT IP / SOPA Breaks The Internet from Fight for the Future on Vimeo.

On a lighter note, the Oatmeal also has a fantastic comic that explains the problems with SOPA and PIPA.

I urge everyone reading this to call your congressperson and senators and voice your opposition of this bill. It's dangerous to the internet as we know it and love it, and won't really achieve the objectives intended.

Tags: politics
Current Mood: determined

For the longest time, one of my small frustrations was the lack of a good song that featured my name. I have a deep, blistering hatred of the song "My Sharona", mostly due to overexposure/having it forced on me. And because my name is Sharon, not Sharona. That, and the damn thing is annoying.

So, imagine my shock when I discover today that one of my all-time favorite artists recorded something called "Song For Sharon."

I was watching The Last Waltz on VH1 Classic today and when Joni Mitchell came on to sing "Coyote." I decided to nose around on Spotify to see what album it was on, since I've liked that song since I first heard it, and I had emusic credits to burn. A few clicks and I discovered it was the first track on Hejira, which was towards the middle of Joni's jazzy-experimental-but-still-accessible phase (things arguably went off the rails with Mingus, but that's open for discussion). My eyes did a casual sweep over the track listing, and there it was. So after sharing my squee with blergeatkitty, I had to listen to it immediately (despite it being almost nine minutes long). I'm pleased to report that it's absolutely beautiful, and I love it. To my delight, it mentions several places around my city, and even touches on a few things going on in my life right now. It's like the universe sent me a great big gift, right when I really need one.


( Lyrics  )

Tags: music
Current Mood: excited
Current Music: Song For Sharon - Joni Mitchell

So, yesterday, I saw my doc for the follow up. And I got the full prognosis/report.

Things are not nearly as positive as I'd hoped/thought.

For starters, there was a LOT more wrong with the ankle than just shards of cartilage everywhere. My mom swears that she and the doc explained this to me after the surgery, but did agree that it was entirely possible that information wasn't permeating my drug-addled state.

So basically the situation is this. Yes, the cartilage broke and flew every which and painful way possible. What's more, is that a big ass piece of bone also broke. And was also bouncing around amidst the cartilage, having fun with all the nerves and things you find in an ankle. There's even pictures from the surgery! The doctor had to remove the chipped-off section of bone, and drill holes in the remaining bone to promote blood flow and stimulate the regrowth of the chipped section. I'm also on Glucosamin for that purpose.

That's the good news.

The not-so-good news? Crutches. For six weeks. No weight on the left leg. For six weeks. Doc took the dressing off, but made it abundantly clear that the foot can't hold weight. It can be used for occasional balance (like showers) but nothing much more.

That also means no subway. And just trying to get from my apartment to the car on the crutches is an ordeal. Forget trying to go three avenues and two blocks to the express bus. Not to mention that gettng into the bus itself would not work. To say that I'm not great on the crutches is an understatement. Sunday night I almost broke a toe on the side opposite the broken ankle because I swung my leg into the crutch. (Doc said it wasn't broken, but it's bruised and hurting almost as badly.)

So I called work. I told them the deal and said that I would be happy to either work from home or come in if someone wanted to send a car for me to do so. HR was not interested in this. (I'm sure on crutches I'm a Workman's Comp claim waiting to happen). So it looks like I'm going to have to take some short-term disability time for the next month or so. My bosses were pretty understanding about the whole thing, surprisingly. I guess no one wants this kind of thing to happen to them, so there's no point of giving someone crap about it. One boss pointed out that me being exhausted from traveling and in pain every day might not be the best thing, and maybe it's just better for me to get better and come back after.

She's not wrong - I am in pain. Today was the first day I didn't really need the painkillers the doc prescribed for post-surgery. Naturally, I felt guilty about not feeling so badly. My brain says all sorts of nasty things to me unless I'm absolutely cross-eyed with pain. It wears on you after awhile. The brainweasles actually convinced me tonight that I could probably stand up and be just fine, since laying down didn't hurt anymore.

Brainweasles are not smart animals.

It hurt. Very much. I stood by my couch for a second - just stood! - and saw stars. Ankle has been yelling at me about this poor life choice for an hour or so now. Ankle definitely hurts again. ::sigh::

I love time off as much as the next guy, but I'm tired of feeling useless and helpless. j_bkl has had to do so much for me the last few days that I'm actually concerned about him going back to work tomorrow. I hate that I have to feel this way. And that for the next 5 or so weeks, I'm going to be this damn way. I'm someone who cherishes their independence and self-sufficiency, and all of that is pretty much out the window right now. It's going to be hard not to be depressed about it.

That's pretty much the lay of the land right now. Home for the next month or so. Not happy about it. Not really much to do about it except catch up on some movie and tv viewings and maybe do something creative, too. We'll see. I'll be doing whatever I have to do in order to get better and not go insane in the process.

Tags: health
Current Mood: sore
Current Music: NCIS

So, surgery wound up being no big at all. I was all freaked out that they'd turn me away because of this post nasal cough that arrived at the beginning of the week. But not so! The anesthesiologist gave me a few puffs of hospital grade albuterol and I was fine. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

J and I worked out that the best plan for surgery would be that my parents would take point on the day of the procedure, and he'd stick it out with me at home for most of the recovery. So, my mom and dad arrived at 5:30 am on Thursday to take me to the part of the hospital that deals with outpatient surgeries of all kinds. Can't lie, I was a bit nervous. Also, unpleased at being up so gorram early. Still, I discovered that I was first in line, which wasn't all bad. My mom stayed with me as we waited, and the place was empty.

And if you're in need of a hospital, I have to say I've been very impressed with Maimonides so far. Everything is clean and relatively new, and all of the staff I've dealt with were really and truly nice. For someone to be upbeat and cheerful at 6:30 in the morning? That means something. And all of the RNs I worked with were really great. One came over and took my blood pressure and temperature, the other did another checkup on me. Then I met my anesthesia team (go team!) which was a clever way to explain that two hot doctors would be giving me nice knockout drugs. There was a really funny scrub nurse, too. I got to sit in a nice recliner and talk to this whole bunch of people as I got ready for the surgery.

I chatted with my doctor and another doctor who would be working with him (likely a resident or intern). I'm used to just seeing my doc in his office, but as it turns out, he's an attending, and seems to love to teach. He was talking to the other doc about an article he read that the other doctor would find useful. I'm a big fan of teaching hospitals, and like seeing older and newer doctors working together, so this made me extra happy.

After a bunch of tests and checks and forms to sign, I was wheeled into the OR and put on a stretcher. They put an IV in my hand (ow) and told me I might feel a burning sensation. Shortly after said sensation, I was down for the count.

A short time (to me) later, I woke up thinking that katiebea was pushing me along to recovery. I asked her what she was doing there, only to be informed that this very nice recovery nurse was not, in fact, katiebea. (I was on drugs and without glasses, so I think it was hardly the worst thing that could have happened). I was groggy and disoriented and thirsty as all get out. I was given water and told to sleep. Tried that, didn't work, eventually got more water and someone delivered my mom, who had been holding my glasses. My doc also stopped by to tell me how it went. I remember some things, but in the state I was in, Nathan Fillion could have professed his love to me and I would have barely remembered.

The gist is this: ankle was more fucked than we thought. Shards of cartilage (also the name of my new metal band) were everywhere, and causing all sorts of pain and inflammation to the ankle, which he sucked out with his magical medical machines. Doc had to drill holes in the bone to promote new growth, and I'm going to have to stay off it for longer than originally hoped.

On the bright side, though? I feel BETTER. No, seriously. My ankle is a bit sore but keeps insisting in some way that it's much happier. It hurts way less than it did for the cortizone shot, and it's obvious now as to why. The recovery part frustrates me. I'm not a good patient. I hate the crutches, and the inability to take A Real Shower. (Operation: Wash Hair will likely occur tomorrow and will involve my kitchen sink and help from my mom and/or sister. ) I hate that I have to be waited on. j_bkl has been taking good care of me, bringing me all sorts of things, moving furniture around to accommodate my gimpy ass, and being a source of love, a source of humor, and a source of positivity, which only helps with the healing process. And friends and family have been popping up in droves with offers of help and company and entertainment, making me feel really loved. And J's folks sent me a big bouquet of lovely flowers, too. They're decorating the coffee table, which has been moved to make room for gimpy.

I'll have more complete details about what's the what after I see my doc on Monday. In the meantime, I have much tv to watch and much healing to do. And I dearly hope that the Rangers manage a few shots on goal already, they're already down by 1 with 6:45 left in the first period. Come ON, guys!

Tags: health
Current Mood: recumbent
Current Music: NY Rangers vs. Penguins

Man, I can only think of a handful of years I've been as happy to see the back of as I was 2011. This was a bad fucking year. It was a year of pain, of heartbreak, of disappointment, and so much death. So many people close to people I care about (and by extension, close to me) lost their lives this year. People broke up, people got fired, and mostly did their best to wade through the river of shit that this year threw at us. All in all, it was pretty miserable.

There were bright spots, though. Almost all of them people. My friends, my family, and most of all J, who reminds me in all sorts of little ways on a daily basis why I am so very, very lucky to have him in my life.

2012 has started out pretty well so far. Rang it in at a friend's house surrounded by music and good people. Then today another friend threw a super fun brunch that involved mimosas, great food, and snark. A fantastic day all around.

I'm a little apprehensive because I'm having surgery on my ankle on Thursday. For those of you who haven't heard, the cliff notes are that I twisted it back in the big Christmas blizzard of 2010. My jerky former ortho sent me for 10 weeks of PT before he thought an MRI might be a good idea, and then after finding out in said MRI that I chipped off cartilage, he suggested a cortizone shot. Said shot had me in abject pain and on my back for a week in June. He shrugged me off when I called to complain. So I found a great new ortho. He had previously fixed quasisonic's knee, so he comes recommended. He did that funny thing doctors do when they want to call another doc an idiot but can't for professional reasons, and explained to me why surgery was the way to go. So that will be done thursday. And I am scared. I don't like the idea of being put under anesthesia, or the fact that I don't know how helpless I'm going to be after the fact. J has taken several days off of work in order to be here and take care of me, and I"m in the process of cooking and trying to have things in the house in order for when the day comes, but there's really only so much you can do to prepare. SIGH.

2012 is going to be a big year for me. j_bkl and I are getting married in May!! And I'm hoping there will be lots of other positive changes in my life, too. We shall see what the year holds.

Tags: state of me
Current Mood: hopeful

There have been many ups and downs in the process of planning this crazy wedding shindig. Many. The important thing is that I have people to share it with. And even more importantly, people to snark it with.

For ages now (possibly before the ring was even on it, but I'm not saying), I have adored snarking wedding media. It’s inherently snarkable - the entire industry takes itself way too seriously. And I’m not just talking about the David Tuteras of the world, or the magazines or websites that push the wedding industrial complex and the idea of the special daaaaaay.

When J and I got engaged I headed to the "non-typical" bride side of the aisle, seeing as I didn't want the big-haired, spray-tanned, rhinestone jewelried, dj-with-smoke-machine, cake-that-looks-like-Tiffany-Box wedding details that are so pervasive in the part of Brooklyn I grew up in (and in the places where the people I grew up with have moved to or have relatives). A friend refers to it as the "LI Weddings" crowd, but it's not just Lawn Guyland that rolls this way. Too my surprise, what I'm finding is that the so-called "offbeat" brides are even more precious about meaningless details. (Not to mention more prone to fits of bawling and hand wringing). I like the fact that A Practical Wedding deals with issues outside of chair covers and etiquette, but if I read one more Wedding recap where the bride drones on about the “deep emotions of the day causing tears to well up in her eyes”, mine are going to roll right out of my head. I’m an emotional person, but reading about how these people started bawling at the drop of a hand-made doily because they saw the ring pillow their Great Aunt Gertie made coming up the aisle started to make me wonder if I'm some kind of robot. I don't cry. I cringe, I snark, I shut down, but I’m not a bawler. And what’s more, I was having a hard time getting worked up about the teeny tiny details of weddings. Reading all of the Indie Bride blogs (Offbeat Bride, APW, DIY Bride and a billion others), every recap I read talks about how important it was that they have an emotional connection to the detail of the wedding. Every last detail. I’ve joked with friends IRL about how these posts read about how they grew the cotton to weave into table cloths and raised cows for the buttercream on the handmade cake the baked with the flour they milled with their own hands, while their beloved blew the glass for the Edison bulb lights that would hang meaningfully over the reception. Oh, and the only vessel for either drinking or holding flowers or collecting the meaningful thoughts and prayers and hopes for the couple on paper handmade by the couple on a meaningful, sun-dappled day together.

Now, if any of you know me at all, this is not me. I appreciate the craftiness of others, but my own craft skills are limited. What’s more, I don’t mind things that are ready made. I found a lovely venue with nice chairs and tables and a nice view that is going to be doing the lion’s share of the work for me. I’m not excited at the idea of staying up until all hours of the night hand-crafting centerpieces or escort cards or meaningful touches that most of the guests will either ignore or smile at for a moment and promptly forget. In fact, I was having an even harder time trying to parse out why exactly some of this dumb shit was meaningful - I hate that I even know what escort cards are. In my mind, the only part of the wedding that should be super-meaningful is the ceremony. And only to a certain line (the part where it doesn’t turn cloying). In fact, all of the posts I read were about how these brides managed to have fun somehow despite nearly driving everyone in their wake positively barmy about the minutiae leading up to the day itself.

It seems that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way, though! I was reading the bulletin boards on Offbeat Bride last night and found a delicious wank that helped me have a marvelous moment of clarity.

The wank began sometime yesterday when someone posted that she was worried that her photographer (a big name wedding photog in Australia) was inspired by her wedding to write this rant. The rant didn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular, but at a symptom that has been running amok through weddings lately - frippery run amok; details and decor standing in for actual emotion; that sort of thing.

Naturally, the bride’s reaction to this rant completely missed the point the photographer was trying to make and completely proved him right. This line in particular crystalized a huge issue I’ve been having in the planning of my own day:

“Everything had meaning, the venue itself was an organic farm, without airs and graces - I planted hundreds of bulbs there six months ago that I only told a few people about. So yeah, for us, the 'details' were private demonstrations of emotion and the values embedded in our lives. ”

Am I the only fucking one here who is absolutely fucking bewildered about how bulbs or tablecloths or mason jars or fucking fairy lights in the trees are supposed to be ‘private demonstrations of emotion and the values embedded in our lives’? And more than that - how in blue blazes am I supposed to infuse everything from the dress to the dinner napkins with this all-important ‘meaning’, especially when I have no idea what in hell the kind of meaning I’m supposed to put in them? If everything has meaning, then nothing has meaning. And the whole exercise is fruitless. I've long suspected that all of the bloviating about the importance and hidden meaning of details was a way to justify the fact that you went insane over some trifle that no one gives a shit about but you. So, I found it really hard to get excited about any of it.

Maybe I’m not like some of these people planning weddings in that I’ve thrown some parties in my time, all varied in scale. And I’ve even been told that said parties were pretty damn awesome. Halloween parties that were discussed all year. A birthday party so epic it spawned a sequel a few days later (also equally epic). Good times. And you know what I learned? While a little detail can go a long way (some tablecloths and wall hangings and some halloween music to get in the spirit, perhaps), the real trick is to figure out a good mix of people who mingle and mix and make their own fun. Keep the drinks (boozy and non-boozy) flowing, serve some reasonably tasty food and give people an icebreaker, and all sorts of fun things can happen.

Look, I’m not laboring under any delusions of grandeur here - a wedding may be an important party, but in the end? It’s just a fucking party. Hopefully a good party. But still. A party. That’s what I want - a good party with good music where people are comfortable with each other and have a good time. No one is going to remember the centerpieces unless they: A) Fall over
B) are so bizarre that they impede conversation.

Few will care what the escort cards/poster looks like past the “Where are we sitting?” part.

No one will even look at the tablecloth, except when they spill something on it. No one will give a damn about the chairs unless there are none. I don’t want to run around with my hair on fire running about stupid details. I do that every day at my job and it sucks.

I already know that I’m a unique and special snowflake. I don’t need to do something that I perceive to be “totally original and unique and special” to feel like it. After years months of reading wedding media, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is absolutely nothing that hasn’t been done before. It’s all been done. So there’s not a reason on this blue globe why I should work myself into a lather trying to do the impossible and find something supposedly unique. I burned out on that trope years ago - it's like running to the horizon: impossible, frustrating and fruitless.

I’m just going to do the easy part where I marry this guy I love a lot. And then we take some pictures, I eat the expensive food and drink the expensive drinks I paid for, I punch a few people who are clinking glasses trying to make us kiss, we take more pictures, and I dance until I fall over. There will be a few personal touches that I hope make my guests chuckle. But that’s as far as this bus will go.

Hail to thee, Jonas Peterson. Your exasperated outburst made me feel so much better. I know more than ever that I don’t have to feel bad because my wedding doesn’t look like an Anthropologie catalog had a baby with a Pottery Barn catalog and the kid puked all over my wedding. Let someone else do that. I’m going to make a kick-ass playlist and a few phone calls and leave it at that.

Tags: mawwage
Current Mood: quixotic

Thanks times a billion to killerweasel for sharing this spectacular video with me.



I think I need a gif of the dancing Ood. XD

Tags: fangirl squee
Current Location: The Hub
Current Mood: amused
Current Music: (I'm gonna be) 500 Miles - The Proclaimers

This has been in my head all night long:



Fun fact? This is actually one of my mom's favorite Beatles songs. It may be her very favorite.

It's been a very Beatles-immersive couple of days. So that would likely explain the sudden pop up.

Today wasn't exactly a basket of kittens, but it wasn't nearly as awful as I'd feared. We'll see how the rest of the week does.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Sing it again!

It was a week of ups and downs, definitely.

On one upside: I was reminded about how awesome my friends/loved ones are. Because you are. ::hugs:: Thank you all for reminding me that it's actually *okay* to put yourself first if needs be.

Down: Going back to the place that doesn't exactly make me feel loved tomorrow. We'll see how that goes.

Upside: Actually feeling 90% like a real person again! Imagine that!

Downside: 90% ain't 100%. But we'll see how things go.

Upside: There's been some great media to enjoy the past weekend:
1. Go get your hands on Metals by Feist. Immediately, if not sooner. It's SO GOOD. It's always gratifying to see an artist you like do something amazing.
2. j_bkl and I watched a fun, bizarre little film called The Baker (aka Assassin in Love) tonight. It's on Netflix streaming right now, and honestly if you're a fan of oddball British comedies, you could do much worse with your time. (It also features the hotness of Damian Lewis and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau [Jaime Lanister], plus Michael Gambon [Dumbledore!] and Kate Ashfield [Liz from Shawn of the Dead] also are in it). It's Grosse Point Blank's weird Welsh cousin, and I mean it in the best way possible.
3. Many, many, many thanks to rockradar for taking pity on my deeply held desire to watch The Beatles Anthology again and lending me his. After seeing George Harrison: Living in the Material World (which is awesomeface, btw), I felt like going back and revisiting the Anthology. And it was good. I don't think I'm going to need to watch that again for another 15 years or so.
4. I'm also reading a book about the breakup of the Beatles, entitled You Never Give Me Your Money. It's a bit dry, but also fascinating. And it really amazes how much the remaining Beatles wanted to let bygones be by the time the Anthology came around. Shit got ugly. Massively ugly.
5. Caught up on Vampire Diaries, finally. Holy heckfire. I can not even put into words how much I love this show. I'm riveted, and usually pleasantly surprised.

Downsides:
I wasn't expecting much from Love and Other Drugs, but it let me down anyway. How can a film with a cast that good be so very, very bad?

Hardly any of the new shows are retaining my viewership. Pan Am is a lot of fun, and I'm enjoying it for the sugar cookie that it is. Ringer is basically a telenovella in English, and I'm loving every silly moment, Hart of Dixie is the love child of Doc Hollywood and Sweet Home Alabama and just delightful, and Revenge is so very, very awesome - twisty, complex, dark, and just enough soap to make it all gel.

But so far I've tried and rejected Person of Interest (been there, done that), Prime Suspect (I'm sure the original is better), 2 Broke Girls (so bad I'm angry, because it has a mostly good cast and odd premise, but I can't get over the show's awful writing and racist jokes), Homeland (too much of a downer and not enough storytelling), and The Secret Circle (the secret? It's BORING!)

Mega downside: This weekend, I missed two birthdays of two of my dearest friends. Both who are kind of having it sort of tough right now. And who I plan to make it up to once I'm plague free. :/

And now, sleep. Off to face the lions tomorrow. At least I get Castle tomorrow night -- that's definitely an upside.

Current Mood: exhausted

It's been a rough couple of days.

Started off Saturday a bit hung over, because redstapler was in town, and that required a toast or three. After I got J off to work, I decided to do some coat shopping. I was off today and I figured that might be the better day to spend on the sofa. After fruitless trips to Syms and Century 21, I was browsing in Bloomingdales when I got phone call.

A really fucking bad phone call. The kind of phone call that you really never expect nor want to receive.

I have this friend Gyda, a lot of you know her. Gyda was supposed to marry her lovely fiance, Aaron, in about a month, down in the Cayman Islands.

Gyda's fiance died Saturday morning.

They were supposed to be visiting her dad's new place in New England this weekend, and he was supposed to be on a certain train at a certain time. When he wasn't, they called a friend to check on him. They'd discovered that Aaron, at 42 years of age, had passed away in his sleep.

We're all in shock. Her the worst of it, clearly.

I didn't know him super-well. He wasn't outgoing or gregarious - he actually played it pretty close to the vest most of the time. But I did know some important things about him. He was a super-sweet guy under a tough-seeming shell. He lacked pretension and bullshit. And most importantly, he loved my friend more than anything. His entire face changed when he smiled, but when he smiled at her? The world was almost a different place, you could tell. Over time, we learned we had a few things in common, especially since he was a huge fan of many of the cult tv shows I was. We'd bonded over Veronica Mars at least once when I expressed glee over seeing it on Gyda's shelf and she told me her seeing it was entirely Aaron's doing.

The other thing about Aaron was how talented he was. Both of them are heavily involved in the Brick Theater and I'd gotten to see him perform many times. He was a really gifted actor. I'd seen him do a number of very different kinds of things, and many times, he was the very best thing on the stage.

I wish I'd spoken to him more times with fewer beers in my system. You always think you're going to have more time.

My heart is breaking for Gyda right now. As she said over and over, between sobs, when I saw her on Saturday was that this was the worst thing ever...the worst thing imaginable. And I agree. I can't think of anything worse. Especially for someone as awesome, loyal, selfless and loving as Gyda is. I wish I could do more than feel for her, but right now that's all that can be done. And it sucks. She's one of the very best people I know, and I believed wholeheartedly that he was completely worthy of her. Neither of them deserved this. As one person kept saying at the gathering Saturday, they were both cheated out of a life together. And I think that sums it up.

Tags: friends, rip
Current Mood: shocked
Current Music: Ultraviolet (Light My Way) - U2

What would I do?? What wouldn't I do.

For ages now, I've said that I didn't mind the prequels in theory, but they were done badly. As one person I knew said, they were likely written on a whiskey bender out at Skywaker Ranch, so I'd give the whole thing a revamp.

Notwithstanding better plotting, characterization and dialogue, the first thing I'd do is chuck Phantom Menace in its entirety.

( The Saga Continues )

Tags: writer's block

Ever since before I moved in, j_bkl has had a silver torch-style floor lamp in his possession. His apartment did not come with a ceiling fixture in the living room, but there's an outlet that's somehow wired to a switch on the wall near the entryway to the living/bedroom, so that was the light source.

It was a source we feared lost about a week ago, when the thing just plumb stopped working.

It had been sort of flickering and not quite working well for a tiny bit, so we thought for sure it was just the lamp's time to go. Because of the flickering, neither of us thought that maybe perhaps there'd just been a bad bulb, perhaps just a loose wire or a dead socket. My dad is pretty handy with lamps, and he said he'd take a look next time I came over.

Friday was my last summer Friday, and I had a few things in mind of what to do with it. First and foremost was to hit my favorite dumpling joint in Chinatown. Secondly was to hang with the very excellent lwoodbloo, whom I hadn't seen in far too long. So, after work, I headed down and grabbed some dumplings and a scallion pancake veggie sammich, and ate them in the park nearby. Then, on my way back to the train, still a smitch hungry and feeling adventurous, I headed into a bakery nearby I'd been to before. I forget the name, but it's on Grand street, not far from Eldridge. All of the signs are in Chinese, but it's always packed and the selection is huge. I got a few goodies (after asking what was in them) and headed home to Brooklyn. (This turned out to be a bad move. Although I asked and the counter person I spoke to spoke fine English, she wasn't honest about what was in one of the buns, and I had a nice allergic reaction to shellfish. [which for me, involves a lot of barfing] Which pretty much tanked the rest of my Friday night and most of Saturday. I'm not going back there any time soon.)

A short time later I met up with lwoodbloo, and I picked up a lamp at Target. Not an expensive one, but enough to keep things brightly lit. I took it home, and decided to try one of the bulbs from the broken lamp in it. It didn't work. I found another bulb, and left the old lamp in its place, since it was plugged in behind a bookshelf.

When J came home the following evening he set about moving the shelves and switching the lamps around. He asked me if I'd checked the bulbs to make sure that hadn't caused the problem. I told him that I'd thought he'd checked the bulbs.

Turns out?

The old lamp was fine. It just needed new bulbs.

So we now have two lamps. Since we wanted that for the living room anyway, it's fine, but I could have accomplished that without a week of sitting in the frigging dark!

So, remember boys and girls, always, always, always check the bulbs FIRST before making any new lamp purchases. *sigh*

Tags: apartment life, j, stupid
Current Mood: silly

OMG IT'S A HURRICANE WE'S ALL GOWNA DIE!

Or not.

Everyone is running around with their ass in their hands because there's a hurricane working its way up the east coast. Granted, two seasons of Treme have probably made me a little more anxious than I need to be, especially since we rode out Hurricane Gloria in my parents' house in 1985 just fine, and she was a Cat. 4. Irene is currently clocking at Cat 2, and is diminishing, supposedly. We're due for Cat 1 here, and everyone is FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. Now, I know that we're not due for a pile of kittens, but the city weathered our last hurricane, Gloria, just fine as far as I remember, and she was at least a Cat 3.

I don't remember boarding up windows, just putting things into the garage so they wouldn't blow away. In fact, I remember watching the hurricane through the front windows of my parents' house. It was pretty cool, actually. And it gave us all something to do when the power went out. But to be fair, back in those days, the power would go out if it rained harder than a drizzle. I also spent a large amount of time playing under the dining room table, if memory serves (it was so much higher in those days, it's gotten awfully short).

Still. I'm...apprehensive. I guess I'm feeding off of it all in the air. My apartment is not in any evac zones, but the house in which my parents, sister, and her husband live in is in Zone C. We're not supposed to get any Zone C-type weather, but yeah. More fun things to be anxious about.

Today my friend Meg and I were supposed to spend the day in Coney Island and the evening at the Brooklyn Cyclones game. And maybe have a few beers at Ruby's in between. And well, we did do that. But the whole time this giant stormcloud of anxiety swirled around us. It even followed us to the game (well, the first game of a double-header, anyway). We decided to bail to plunge headfirst into the insanity of a pre-storm grocery store.

I do not use the term insanity loosely. It was nuts. What made it fun was Meg's attitude - she was like a kid on Christmas from all the crazy energy flying around. And she was in all of her glory giving advice on how to live when the power goes out (something that apparently happens frequently back at her Wisconsin homeland). It was easy to keep going with that kind of ra ra around. Plus, j_bkl was able to swoop in, Han Solo style, with the shopping cart. Meg and I ran to the market from the train, so I had none of my grocery gear with me. But thankfully, I had schelp help after all.

Then I came home and filled about 39240308 containers with Brita water. Now? I'm kind of too tired to see straight. I fell asleep twice while writing this.

So sleep. More if I can post it tomorrow, if not, stay safe, stay dry, keep calm and carry on. That's my plan, anyway.

Tags: weather
Current Mood: anxious

And here's a moment of potentially needless paranoia, but I don't really care, to be honest.

ladymoonray and dolores - do check in and let us know how you all are faring. Last I heard you're far from the melee, but I'd still like to know you two are all right. And that's the same for all of my other UK/London-based LJ peeps.

Tags: friends
Current Mood: worried

Originally posted by deathpixie at Signal Boost: Return of the DDoS

Current Mood: annoyed

Ugh. So usually the best thing about my CSA is that I start eating lots and lots and lots of leafy green vegetables. A better lunch for a better America and all that.

Only problem is that after a week or three of that many salads, my stomach usually rebels in a majorly epic way. A "No, fuck you!" way, as antheia might say. (Speaking of, happy birthday, doll!)

So I feel like I have gravel in my stomach at the moment. I have less than no interest in food, but my body insists on being annoying and getting hungry at times. (The nerve!) I'm doing my best, but I'm guessing I'm going to have to revert to eating like a three-year-old for a day or two while things reset and my stomach decides to stop being full of gravel.

And naturally, I have a fridge full of all sorts of lovely leafy greens. Of course.

I finished Bobby Murcer's memoir (Yankee for Life) today. It was excellent. Bobby was always a favorite of mine in the broadcast booth, and I was positively crushed when he passed. He seemed like such a genuinely nice guy, too. I loved his games, it was kind of like having a cool older relative sit with you and talk to you about the game in such a way that you felt more informed after. (Kind of like watching sports with my dad.) It was weird - reading the book, I could totally hear his voice just like I did for so many Yankee games over the years. And for my money, I will stand by the fact that my favorite broadcast team will always be Murcer, Jim Katt, and Michael Kay (back before his head grew to unnatural sizes). Yes, Scooter was fun and all, but he was gone by the time the 1996 team rolled around, and when I really got swept up in the pennant race and fell in love with the team in a way I hadn't loved them before. So it was nice to have Bobby back, in a way. It was also hard as hell to read about his diagnosis and fight with cancer, and how upbeat it was, knowing something he didn't know as of the writing of the book. I just hope that somewhere, Field of Dreams is real, and he's hanging with Munson and Mantle and some of the other guys right now.

Otherwise, not much to report on. Work was as usual - like hitting myself in the face with a nerf bat over and over again (not painful, but more than annoying). Our team won trivia yesterday by half a point, which was pretty cool. And now I have to decide between reading two books, but I think Game of Thrones will win that dogfight. Annd I'm going bridal gown shopping on Friday. Hopefully that will be less painful than I'm fearing. (Bringing a team of aces with me - my mom, quasisonic and blergeatkitty, so hopefully we can get something accomplished).

Tonight I got home in time to watch the Yankee game. I even got to watch a bunch with my dad over the phone. Talking to him was fun, my new tv has a great picture, and my apartment had a/c, so I was ready to settle in with some baseball goodness. Of course, they lost. I think that about sums up today. *sigh*

Tags: health, sports
Current Mood: listless

I keep meaning to/trying to post updates on here, but it never seems to work out. Let's have a quick recap for now:

The Good
This weekend was pretty excellent, all told. Epic amounts of running around that resulted in desperately-needed new sandals and a haircut. There were fireworks out in the wilds of Red Bank, NJ, at the (really nice) home of j_bkl's sister. She had a perfect view of the Red Bank fireworks, which I am told are famous in NJ (is that like being big in Japan?). We got home late, but it was a really fun day. And I received lots of kudos for the all-American mix I made for the party.

Yesterday I didn't get to see fireworks at the Liberty Belle spectacular, since the Empire Hotel was so far uptown. Still, it was an awesome night spent with airspaniel, rockradar, j_bkl and our friend Maryiln. It had a bit of a rocky start (you know that friends episode when Ross is trying to get everyone out of the house in 25 minutes? Kind of like that), but all was fine once we arrived, overpaid for a few drinks (oy), and found a beautiful spot to camp out. Lots of good times were had, but sadly, not much dancing. Next one, hopefully. (redstapler, you were actively missed.)

On the ankle - the cortisone shot kicked in the Saturday morning following the Monday I got the shots and the two days I was stuck home. Everything feels basically back to normal now, except I can tell you exactly when it's going to rain. The doctor, after hearing my litany of complaints about being incapcitated, only said "That happens sometimes." Really. What also happens sometimes is that if anything like this happens again, I'm finding another orthopedist. Jackass. But on the up side, the ankle is working and I think I can use it for cardiovascular activities. It's passed every subway test with flying colors, so we'll see about the gym later this week.

The Bad

Currently, it's raining plaster and water from our bathroom ceiling. (I don't really want to contemplate the source of the water). I am really annoyed. It's not even the first time this has happened. I'm hoping this can be dealt with before it gets much worse.

As fun as the barbecue was, I'm currently covered in mosquito bites from the knees down. Apparetently, my legs are delicious. Who knew? I wonder if there's some kind of Mosquito Michellin guide. Maybe a biting insect Zagat's. If there is, I'm in it.

The Ugly, Yet Hilarious:

I was treated to the experience of taking a NY-bound NJ Transit train on a holiday weekend this past Sunday (after the Red Bank fireworks). Lots of examples of public intoxication, and general asshattery, but mostly kept down to a dull roar. A few things of note:

- A group of rowdies that looked like next season's Jersey Shore cast. (J noted that one of the guys was wearing True Religion jeans and a bandana around his forehead, with his sunglasses seated atop the bandanna.) Aside from loudly screaming across the aisle to one another, they thought they were being hilarious by shrieking/screaming the lyrics to Tenacious D's "Fuck Her Gently" at the top of their lungs. D'aww. See, kiddums, I was singing that one before you were allowed to cross the street by yourself. it's as old hat as that fedora you're trying to make happen (and it's sonot happening). Thank God they got off after only two stops.

- One girl, seated by herself across the aisle and one row back from us, having a sobbing, screaming (fight? conversation? who knows?) phone call with her boyfriend, Pat. I first noted Sobby as she wailed "NOOOOO! OH NOOOOO!" into her cell phone. It caught my attention. I thought someone had died, God forbid. Or she was hurt or something. Nope. Best I could glean from the convo, Sobby got separated from her friends and the aforementioned Pat by a Red Bank police officer, who put her on the train. I'm guessing she was already drunk and separated from her friends at this point. That was about all I could glean from the series of calls, which went something like this:
"Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaht! WHERE ARE YOU, PAAAAAHT! WHY DO YOU HAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE MEEEEE! JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE! LOOK AT THE MAPQUEST ON YOUR GARMIN AND TELL MEEEEEE WHERE YOU AAAAAARE PAAAAT! ::wails:: PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! TELL ME WHERE YOU AAAAARE! I'M ON THE TRAIN! I WILL SEND A TAXI FOR YOU PAAAT!" And on, and on, before she finally got off in Matawan. (seriously).

- After Sobby exited the train (after several well-meaning folks stopped to ask her if she needed help and received downright nasty responses from her), we were approached by two girls a few rows up from us who were also extremely amused by the whole Pat opera. They were sweet, obviously a bit young, and were a bit exasperated when they found out that the train we were on did not, in fact, go to Long Branch. (We were almost at South Amboy at this point). Granted, they went looking for a conductor and managed to wrangle their other friend, a tall, blonde girl whod' been quietly sobbing for several stations, but had been drowned out by Sobby's antics. According to one of the girls, she said her friend was fine, and it was all "boyfriend shit" and they'd "take care of her." And they did, although they couldn't stop her from getting up too fast and bashing her head into the luggage holder. D'oh.

***********
Trivia tonight! Hopefully more updates tomorrow.

Tags: sundries
Current Mood: tired

So, the pain has gone down. Last night, on a scale of one to ten, I was nearly up to fifteen. It was bad news. On top of that, I couldn't put any weight on my left leg. If I tried to act like it was a normal leg, it would buckle and I would tip over. Not good. I had to sleep like an ancient Egyptian painting, and even that wasn't all that comfortable. (Poor j_bkl was kept up by my tossing and flailing.) I really didn't appreciate just how important my ankles really were until this, and how much they do that I just didn't appreciate. Like turning over in bed. That has a lot to do with your heels and ankles. As I discovered last night, trying not to scream. I slept in fits and starts, before finally passing out at one point for a few hours.

Then there was a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That was fun. It was dark, I had one working leg, and the path wasn't exactly perfectly clear. Ugh.

It was abundantly clear at 7am that while the pain had dropped to a comparatively more manageable 9 on the scale of doom, I still couldn't stand on it. Or really walk. I could do a sort of hobble-hop-lurch between bed and the bathroom, but not too much more. The subway was not going to happen. And as a result, neither was work. What was really frustrating was that tonight was Star Wars/Star Trek trivia night at rope, something I was really looking forward to, was likely out, too. I was NOT happy. I called out of work, and was able to get a tiny bit of sleep.

I spoke to my parents early on, and as it turned out, they had a spare cane I could borrow. Mom brought the cane over and it's helped quite a bit, especially as standing and walking are still really fucking awful things to do. So far, laying flat, the ankle only hurts a little. Standing and walking still suck though. Like a big sucking thing.

Naturally, I called my doctor's office during the day about all of this. I learned the following:
1. This is considered normal after you get a cortizone shot. Perfectly normal. WHAT.
2. When I'd originally asked if I should plan for time off of work after the shot, the doc's assistant told me that wouldn't be necessary. It turns out, she didn't realize I'd be getting a cortizone shot. She just thought I'd be getting a "regular" shot. Granted, she was super apologetic about this, and granted, as she doesn't have a medical degree, it's not her fault. But holy hell, would it have killed my doc to perhaps mention the fact that I should clear my schedule after one of these? JFC. I realize that to a doctor I'm a puzzle to solve with a copay, but in fact I have a life and a job and commitments. He and I will have words about this, oh yes we will.

So yeah. Here I am. Not sure if I'm going to make it to the office tomorrow, either. I am so fucking frustrated right now I could scream. Why is it so hard to just provide the information I asked for, and was told was 'not going to be an issue.' GAH.

So now all I can do is wait. And hope. And possibly worry. But honestly? I'm too fucking exhausted to do any of these things. Hurting is a big energy drain, apparently. *sigh*

Tags: health
Current Mood: frustrated

I'm no stranger to pain. I've been through stuff.

Some of you may rememberHumpty Dumpty's great fall down the Rockefeller Center stairs and the biopsy from hell that followed. My battle with migraines are well documented. And hell, just for the sake of thorughness and TMI, before I went on the pill, I had menstrual cramps that could drop a weightlifter.

All of this to say that I discovered a level of pain that kicks all of these down to the "oops I bumped my elbow" level. (This is a handy chart for reference.)

As most of you know, back during the blizzard I sprained my ankle. It hurt a lot, so I went to an orthopedist who pronounced it sprained and sent me for some PT. The PT wasn't going as well or as quickly as anyone thought it should, so I was back at the doctor a week or so ago. That trip resulted in an MRI.

(which was a whole other kettle of fish. I thought I'd be fine, as most of my claustrophobia is triggered by a feeling of being trapped, and not confined spaces, and I figured since I was going in feet first, I'd be fine. Not so much. But I endured.)

Turns out, I have a torn ligament, and have a chipped ankle. Which is really a bit of torn cartilage flapping back and forth and banging against nerves. Painful. Annoying. And often inconsistent.

So, the doctor said our next course of action would be a cortizone shot. Fine then, athletes get them all the time! No big deal! It'll help! Jeter or A-Rod gets one and they're back hitting home runs in no time!

See, I might be able to describe this as a similar sensation to having a rusty steel spike being driven into my angle at a jaunty angle, but I'm not sure that really expresses it quite vividly enough. Walking hurts, sitting hurts, ice does nothing. And thanks to my stupid body's inability to tolerate naproxen or ibuprofen, I am at tylenol's mercy. Not a good place to be.

So yeah. I'm in rotten shape, LJ. Sorry to come over just to whine, but this is a level of pain for the record books. *whimper*

Tags: health
Current Mood: sore

So I've been mainlining Doctor Who for the past couple of weeks. Said mainlining began when I started watching the Matt Smith seasons. I LOVE. It's like all the writers got a great big kick in the ass, and all of the actors are thrilled as hell to be there. Magical. I adore Matt Smith. He's unseated Eccelston as my favorite Doctor. And Amy Pond? Best Companion Ever, in my book. Loff Huh. And Rory. How could you not love Alan Tudyk's long-lost British cousin? Show's got new life in it, and I'm adoring every minute.

Anyway. I was watching the two-part season 6 opener on my laptop since my shit cable company does not get BBC America, and I dozed off. (It happens a lot on this couch for some reason.) Anyway, I had a dream about finding a slip of paper in my wallet that had the combination of a Masterlock on it. (in fact, it was one of those stickers that come affixed to the back of one when you buy it.) I hadn't remembered it being in my wallet before, but it had the combination on it. I woke up and a short time later recalled a lock I'd been trying to remember the combination on for some time. I cleaned out my wallet, but found nothing. I tried the combination I remembered from my dream on the lock.

AND IT WORKED.

I screamed. I could not believe it.


I don't know if something triggered my memory, or what, but that's the oddest damn thing that could happen while watching something like Doctor Who. (Especially the "Day of the Moon" episode. Damn.)

Tags: fangirl squee, tv, wtf?
Current Location: a tardis somewhere in Flatbush
Current Mood: weird
Current Music: theme from Doctor Who

I was home ALL day today with an absolutely crippling migraine.

Now, I've had them before, and usually I can take some meds and grin and bear it through work. But not today. Let's just say my stomach said FUUU early on and wasn't letting anybody in (but everybody else had to leave). Ugh. I hate calling out when Boss T is out, but there was just no damn way I was doing anything. And as it turns out, it wasn't a bad call. I think I slept for at least 85% of the day today, and I still don't feel awesome. Light still kind of sucks, but nearly as much as it did earlier. Eating helped, even though my taste buds are all fucked up.

The fun part of migraines, at least for me, is that every sense I have is turned up to eleven. Lights are too bright, flavors are overwhelming, smells I would usually be able to ignore level me. And yet, in a marvelous Princess Bride-style twist, my hearing is largely unaffected. I've gotten weird looks from people about why I have my ipod on when commuting with a migraine, but if given the choice between the sweet, soft voices available to me on my music player and the screeching hell of subway breaks, it's not exactly a difficult decision. Even so, I'm hyper-sensitive to high pitched sounds, but find things on the lower level of the bass scale soothing. (Sense of touch is unaffected, but the rest of me is so fucked up I couldn't even tell if it was. Every nerve is on high alert, so it'd make sense if it was affected). Today was like a shovel to the face, and someone putting my brain through a meat slicer. And yet, it remained active throughout all of this. So, I took to the idiot box, because being anywhere near a computer was right out until now. And even now is decidedly unfun.

Thankfully j_bkl was off today, and is the kind of rockstar fiance that troops out to the store to buy me things like gatorade and seltzer and saltines. He's been super ace, and deserves massive kudos.

One thing I discovered is that Lost In Translation is a great movie to watch if you have a migraine. It's dark. It's slow-moving, and largely quiet. No shouting, or things going boom, or even much loud music. It lulled me to sleep and then I woke up for a little while and fell back again. Not too bad. I usually watch Wings of Desire if I'm sick because the stream-of-consciousness narrative makes even more sense in an altered state, and it's also largely quiet and meditative. (Until the Nick Cave part, but that's okay, because it's Nick Cave and he's awesome.) But Lost in Translation was on cable, and watching Wings of Desire would have required standing up, finding the DVD, opening the case, and figuring out how to work the dvd player. More than I could handle, basically. Blah.

And if that wasn't bad enough, my wonderful prescription plan told me today that as of June 30, it's not going to cover my birth control pills anymore (well, they're not "preferred" medication. Fuck you, CVS, they're preferred for ME.). I could have the generic version that made me crazypants, or pay a higher copay for the one I have now. UGH. Luckily, I had one refill left that I ordered right quickly and that brings me to 5 1/2 months before I have to see my doc anyway and see what we want to do. Just further proof that the war on women continues! God forbid I don't want to be a baby factory or, I don't know, not suffer debilitating cramps and hormone fluctuations every month. Urgh. I'm contemplating Seasonique and some of those other ones that limit your periods, too. Wonder how they'd work with my freaky DNA. J seems to think I can give them or HR an argument about it, I'm mildly sure it's a waste of time, but I guess it's only my time I have to waste.

Later I was overcome with the desire to listen to the greatest AM radio hits of the 70s. I don't even know, but I figure it's music designed for fried brains, so there's that. Dunno why, but I somehow wound up with copies of Billboard's Greatest Hits of 1973 and 1975, and they're kind of ruling my world right now. (Yes, I apparently know every word to "Delta Dawn." What.) It's weird. Music in that early part of the 70s is on the cheesy end of awesome and soothing me a lot right now, so I'm not fighting it.

I'm starting to feel worn out again, thanks to my vigorous day of laying around with a bag of ice over my forehead, so I should probably do that. But what the crap. I needed today like a hole in the head.

Ooh, bad choice of words.

(speaking of words, I'm currently on the iPhone/Android sensation known as Words with Friends with this exact username. Hit me up if you wanna play.)

Tags: health, music, rage
Current Mood: drained
Current Music: Helen Reddy - Delta Dawn

I swear, I want to take a red pen to 90% of the LJ community posts I read.

I have never subscribed to the whole "lol just the internet!" school of thought. If you are solely represented by text, wouldn't you want to sound like someone with a brain?

Then again, if you don't *have* a brain to speak of, it may not be such a worry, but still. My inner English major gets twitchy. And, I am less sympathetic to people with lousy grammar.

Tags: geek, internet
Current Mood: annoyed

I started writing a post yesterday to update everyone on my latest happenings, but it was totally saturated with wedding shit. So I toddled over to Offbeat Bride and dumped it there, and will probably cross post to weddingplans at some point. But that shit just isn't interesting, unless you're me. Suffice it to say, things are going well.

I just did some organization in the kitchen, and a little bit of cleaning up as well. I'll soon be on my way to doing the same in the living room. My only problem is Doctor Who.

See, I was stuck in the Tennant movie portions of the DW-verse for awhile, and honestly, they're no great shakes. Other than the Christmas Episode that featured the Blackpool reunion (OMG! Tennant and Morrisey! Together again!) and the two-part one that ended Tennant's Tenure, it was kind of meh. So I got behind. But, I finally finished them off the other day and started on Eleven and Season 5.

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD YOU GUYS. I LOVE.

Matt Smith is fabulous. I love how off-the-wall he is, as it addresses the fact that maybe this bloke isn't all there, but rather than suffering from madness, he's enjoying every last second of it. And Amelia Pond! Amy! <3 I didn't know I could love someone more than Donna, but there you go. I'm in the middle of the third episode of s5 and I'm all *chinhands* with this season. That's not a problem, per se, but I only have these on my computer, and the way my living room is set up it'd be quite a bit easier if I could stream them on my tv, but netflix is being a big old poophead and not offering them. I'm going to have no problem catching up in short order, and will likely be able to pick up S2 in an episode or two more. (I have the Christmas special and the first two episodes of S6 downloaded and waiting).

As much as I enjoyed Tennant, this really gave the show a much-needed shot in the arm. Kudos to all, and I can't wait for more!! (Especially with all the non-spoiler squee I've been hearing about Series 6).

Justified, Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries also continue to rock my world. And I'm very much liking Deadwood, which I've been getting from Netflix, one disc at a time.

I'd say I'd be watching DW on my ipod to and from work, but the only problem there is that the Brooklyn Public Library delivered unto me the newest Charlaine Harris Sookie book. That is priority over most things, so that will be hogging much of my commute time.

Otherwise, things are pretty good. I'm trying to find a balance where I say social but don't ruin myself financially, mentally or emotionally. I'm a person who needs her downtime, and a little bit of solitary time to stay on an even keel. I always forget and must remind myself that it's Okay to Say No. If you need time to yourself, if something isn't good FOR YOU, It's Okay to Say No. And save yourself for truly awesome occasions. Like last night - j_bkl and I headed to Gleason's to see blergeatkitty fight (and she was excellent, btw) and then we had a marvelous dinner with Blerg, kip3f, teany & selftoken. All told, it was a lovely evening. I have to remind myself to get off the treadmill and take more time for me, and make sure I have more down time. My mental state isn't great when I am so busy running around that I don't have time to tidy up, make food, or just be still and quiet. As much as I love my friends (which is a lot), I'm no good to anyone if I'm on my last nerve.

And one last thing to add- I made a fabulous batch of arugula pesto just now! I was faced with a nearly-deceased and under-utilized batch of arugula, and rather than try to eat it all or despair, I simply threw it in the food processor with some olive oil and garlic, salt and pepper, and PRESTO PESTO! \o/

Tags: fangirl squee, food, friends, geek
Current Mood: accomplished

You guys. It's been a week, let me tell you.

See, a week plus ago I had a cold. It sucked, but colds often do. Problem was that this cold decided it'd be cool to turn my chest into a crash pad. This being several varieties of not on, I saw my doc, and he gave me another asthma inhaler to work with the one I usually use for emergencies. Hokay? Hokay. For a day or two it did what it needed to and all was fine. Then one day I felt a little jumpy after taking my morning dose. And it went all downhill from there.

The rest of the week played out like a version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for weenies. This shit made me paranoid, anxious, distracted, jittery - basically convinced I was smack in the middle of Bat Country. Not. Fun. Especially at work.

Of course, this doesn't occur in a week where I can hide in my house and wait for the chemically-induced crazy to pass. Nope! This was a week with Shit! Going! On! Every day, there was something else. Dinner Monday night with friends at a Mexican restaurant (wherein the waiter not only forgot to put in my order, but told me there was no avocado in what I ordered, when there totally was. Manager/Owner saved the night with a free cocktail and lots of apologies, but wtf). Tuesday was Trivia, Wednesday a night off, and yesterday was whtegrlwthehair's bday celebration (which was awesome), and tonight I get to see redstapler for a bit before running into Brooklyn for the fundraiser that quasisonic's husband put together for Tsunami/Earthquake victims in Japan. Tomorrow? More redstapler after a doc visit and some time with the folks. I don't plan to move on Sunday, but that may get torpedoed. The tired. I has it.

Only other thing of note this week is that we have officially booked our wedding venue!! :D One thing down, 2389473479 to go, but that's a BIG piece of the puzzle taken care of. Still, it was hard to enjoy thanks to the fact that I was tweaking my brains out at the time. I'm excited and freaked out all at the same time. This shit is daunting. But onward and upward, as always.

Tags: health, mawwage, nyc life
Current Mood: crazy

Current does help to narrow it down a bit.  

I mean, the opportunity to stare at Raylan Givens from <i>Justified</i> would be pretty awesome, but I'm not sure what we'd have to talk about.  He doesn't say all that much.  Might get boring. 

And hell, I've made it plain that I'd love to go out drinking sometime with Mary Shannon from <i>In Plain Sight</i>.   She is awesome, and I can't WAIT for that show to come back.  

But I have to say, after careful consideration and deliberation that the character on a currently airing TV show that I'd most like to have dinner with would be Richard Castle.  Because he's charming. He's funny.  He has lots of cool stories.  And he looks exactly like Nathan Fillion.    ;)

Plus, Castle happens to be a foodie based in NY, so that would make it easier.   (But if Dean Winchester is ever in these parts and wanted to grab a burger, then I could make that happen, too.) 

Ooh, or I could also be happy with Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke from <i>White Collar</i>!  Mozzie and El could come too, of course.  That would be a lively dinner, no question.  With REALLY good wine.


Somewhat-relatedly, I've had a bunny for awhile about a panel at a writer's conference where Temperance Brennan, Richard Castle and "Thom E. Gemcity" (that's NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee to you), all discuss being inspired by their jobs and on the job.   I've decided that Beckett, Booth, DiNozo and Ziva will definitely be on hand to heckle, and that Booth absolutely flips shit that Bones is meeting Richard Castle, because he's a huge Derek Storm fan.   DiNozo also, and will lament the they never did a good Derek Storm movie.   McGee will be floored by the fact that Castle has not only read his books, but likes them, too.   Beckett will be getting a copy of one of Temperance's books signed for Laney.   That's all I got so far.  

Tags: writer's block; tv
Current Mood: sick