There is the whole rest of my fabulous trip to report on, including Greta (GRETA!) and arranging to marry [ profile] queenitsy, but I am terribly sick (hey, Rachel, Becky? Apparently IT WAS NOT THE CAT) and want to do nothing but drink codeine and sleep.

I have also my entire life to unpack into my parents' house (bleh) for the summer, but all the big strong men who are supposed to help me haul things are also sick, so right now there is a horse trailer in my driveway and I get to rest and feel better. *sleepy smile*


(P.S. Shane, I love you. Please take pictures of Brendon forever. Yrs, Lu)

(P. P. S. Rachel, CNN was in the background at the doctor's office and I heard "Miss America contest" and immediately thought JOHNNY WEIR. You are evil and I love you.)
My face still hates me--I can't follow a whole train of thought because I get distracted from how my sinuses feel like there is AN INVISIBLE GIANT PUSHING ON MY FACE--and today was very lazy. I frittered away a morning re-reading holiday fics (next up: Star Shaped; I would put Lying Next to Me on my list except that it is mine and I wind up skimming bits of it for typos about once a month and the holiday feeling has worn off; I re-read Thereafter You Have It instead, which is technically a Christmas fic because it covers, like, more than a year and THERE IS TOTALLY CHRISTMAS SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE THERE; and of course I include elf!Brendon) and spent the afternoon shopping with Friendiest for Christmas gifts.

Then I came home and fussed at the jewelry I am making for my mother's gift and watched more of The West Wing, which, y'all, all of you who told me that when Sorkin doesn't lose his mind and start writing pure crap (GIP, in honor of this statement) he is a genius? I believe you all the way now. Can I marry C.J.? Or Abby? Or Josh? I'm sure we can get around the part where they are fictional characters.

And then I took a bath with special clogged-sinuses bath salts and started re-reading Rose in Bloom, because Friendiest and I watched Little Women a couple of nights ago and I'm on an Alcott kick. Subtle-as-a-brick moralizing and all, I really kind of love that she was a feminist in her own way and that she thought marriage should be about equal partners and she was trying to make people take their girls out of corsets and eat porridge.

Rambling because, see above, sick: apparently I ramble when I am upset in my mind or in my body, which is news--the body part, I mean, I've always known I ramble when I am upset in the head. Sorry about that.

I would like to especially mention that I love Spencer and Brendon, and I love the people who spent all yesterday and today e-mailing me about college fic and "we"s. I love that I am in a fandom where we do that.
It takes me about half an hour to write a scene/~1000 words.

For every scene/~1000 words I write, I have to sleep for an hour and a half. Sometimes I also have to spend twenty minutes in the bathroom breathing mentholated steam.

This is going VERY. SLOWLY. But! It is getting done.
Astounding: I have slept almost seventeen straight hours, and I'm better, but still tired. The cough is seriously taking it out of me. I can't even focus well enough to read any BBB stories; I get two paragraphs in and then realise my thoughts are actually off playing with the faeries. Much less progress is being made on the story I am supposed to beta and the primer I am supposed to be writing. I basically sleep, shower, go to work and try not to fall over, come home and sleep some more.

Forgive my brain-fog, all of you...with luck the cough will go soon and I'll be able to rejoin the human race.
Apologies to the world at large: the death has settled into my lungs and I am having trouble breathing, let alone focusing enough to flist/e-mail/hold ordinary conversations. Doctor tomorrow, but for now just enough medicated steam to choke a horse, all the ancient favorite movies I can recite by heart, and an old worn blanket to curl up in.

I love you all.
I feel like DEATH. Naturally, today I have a job interview. *hides under the covers*
Y'all, I am so ill right now.

We've cycled back around to the Bad Female Times, and I ache all over and am throwing up. As a side note, I have decided to catch a cold which has stuffed up my head and given me a mild fever.

I don't have TIME for this! I have fic to write! I have papers due! I have to teach a class full of eight-year-olds about the joys of tissue paper collage! I can barely walk through my room! I have laundry!

This is NOT THE TIME for me to be having trouble sitting up enough to throw up in a bowl instead of on myself, okay? It's not.

Somebody needs to figure out how this stick with a star on the end of it works, because I can't, and I'm pretty sure magic is the only answer. Where's a fairy godmother when you need her?
Stupid weather changes. Stupid arthritis.


This always waits to happen until I have a big paper due. WHY IS THAT?
So, hah, I'm an idiot.

I found a new kind of gluten-free fruit snacks, and I was excited to try them! And I did! And then...I noticed that they had carrot juice in them.

And I'm...kind of deathly allergic to carrots. Like, my throat swells shut.


I've downed Benadryl and the roommates are on alert to take me to the emergency room if necessary, but mostly I just feel really, really dumb.
In further bad things about today, I am extremely gleimous, and having difficulty breathing. Being gleimous, in conjunction with Murphy's law, means that I am constantly in need of a tissue.

However, on the plus side, some mysterious nice person has been clearing off my car in the mornings before I have to drive it anywhere. Thank you, mysterious car fairy! You are awesome!

*Gleimous: slimy or full of phlegm

Things that are bad:

--I have now consulted with two fellow sufferers, a friend of mine who's a doctor, and my mother, and we're pretty sure my hand-aches are arthritis. Which in some ways, yay, because at least the typing isn't doing much to make it worse and I can stop worrying about that, but in other ways, crap, because, hey, taking breaks? Doesn't help much. I'm going to wind up with an ulcer, even with alternating taking Tylenol and Advil. Anything else I can do for it requires at least a month of regularly taking vitamins/herbs/weird pseudo-juices, and starting now absolutely does not help me get my papers written now

--OMG SO MANY PAPERS; dude, I don't have a metaphor for running the perfect family, okay? I JUST DON'T.

--My sleeping patterns are falling apart

--Gmail is being obnoxious and I don't know why

Things that are good:

--fic has been my procrastination tool of choice the past couple of weeks, and I have so many that are close to done. Yay! (Also kind of boo, because, you know, papers, but things are often this bad and usually I have nothing to show for it. I'M COUNTING IT AS A WIN.)

--bandom is running around being awesome at me, what with Brendon taking his Shane to New York and MCR being their dorky selves (I wish that I actually knew Gerard just so I could introduce him to a friend of mine, because with their mutual love of horror movies and zombies they would be happy talking to each other for hours; some of the lines from their blogs are STARTLINGLY similar; and while Gerard was distracted I could make a play for Bob, who is taking pictures of dogs and thinking about giving them good homes) and Pete--well, I was going to say "taking mildly disturbing photos involving stuffed animals," but really, that can just be summed up as "being Pete."

--when I finish these papers, and get my horrendous interview over with, I am DONE for the semester. \o/ Well, except for two exams, but frankly? I wish my whole school career was exams. I can HANDLE exams. Exams don't require any self-discipline on my part. I just have to go to class, and pay attention, and then show up for the test.

--my Christmas cards are as awesome as I remember

--I had a brainwave for what to ask my parents for Christmas. This is often difficult, because they always want to get me a) one big item, b) smack on price range, and c) not likely to add bulk to my possessions, because I move at least twice a year and the less I have to pack, the better. If the business were doing better, I would ask them to send me to Muskrat Jamboree or Duckon or just Out To New York To Play With My Friends, but the budget's a little too small, so I've been worrying about this for the last six weeks. The things my mother finds to guilt me about are sometimes beyond my comprehension. So YAY for the car stereo idea! And it will save me spending the next two years of driving up and down a mountain swearing at the iPod radio broadcaster.

--I have a seekrit project that fills me with glee

--the Geek Squad up here actually is awesome. Or, at least, the Ron Weasley look-alike who is part of it is awesome. He is as knowledgeable and friendly as Chuck Bartowski, he honestly is. He has my baby and she should be fixed by tomorrow, and I can go back to having an H and a Z on my keyboard. And having all my Panic photos within easy reaching distance. And being able to import CDs. I AM SO HAPPY I'VE MISSED MY BABY SOOOO MUCH.
Questions; I know some of you out there have carpal tunnel.

A) what does it feel like, exactly?


B) any suggestions for it? Besides reducing my typing, obviously, which, well, isn't going to happen until next week; PAPERS PAPERS PAPERS TO WRIIIIITE.

My wrists and elbows ache and I'm pretty sure it's from the fact that I've been either writing fic or writing academically pretty much nonstop for the past couple of days; carpal tunnel seems a likely diagnosis?
Root canal today; the procedure itself went well, but my mouth is achy and I have now taken some pretty prescription pills which make my brain sort of stop for ten or fifteen seconds and then start again, sometimes in the wrong direction. (The last time I was on these kinds of pills, my dreams were practically the stuff of legend. We shall see what the night brings.)

Which is to say: fair warning, I am not replying to many people's LJs, and if you do get a reply, it may be something which only makes sense at the time, like, say, "your advice made more sense when you were a purple fire-breathing dragon."

Not that I have ever said that to a friend while on prescription painkillers. Ahem.

*kisses* In case I don't get to my computer tomorrow: Happy Thanksgiving, my fellow Americans!
I'd forgotten how much I hate airports.

No dizzy spells so far, but my skin is crawling...I think I'd rather have driven the six hours, frankly.

Today has been awesome in every way up until the travel part, though, so I suppose I can't whine too much.

Besides, tomorrow is going to be the MOST FANTABULOUS DAY EVER.

The only--the only--thing that makes me remember to take my pills is the fact that my birth contol is really time-sensitive, and if I don't take it within half an hour before or after the usual time, Bad Things Happen.

My prescription renewability ran out, and my doctor is two hours away, so I haven't been able to get it done.

While being unregulated sucks, the worst of it is that when I have no birth control terrorizing me, I forget to take my other pills, such as my sleep aid, vitamins, antidepressants, etc. etc. And then I wander around wondering why I feel like crap.

I remembered to take my pills, including the Melatonin, last night, and I feel like a zillion times better just for having slept soundly. Possibly this means I should, oh, I don't know, take my damn pills.


We saw EIGHT apartments today.


In the good news, we have it narrowed down to two pretty awesome choices.

In the bad news, one has awesome roommate people but has several disadvantages to do with distance and parking and bathrooms, and one is an awesome apartment but I don't get to meet the people first.


For most of today I've been sitting--driving to College Town, driving from apartment to apartment, driving back from College Town--why am I so EXHAUSTED??

Also, I should make myself break down in a trust-locked entry, because I've been having mild dizziness, which is a sure sign of stress (nothing like as bad as when I was on gluten, but still happening.) But I'm too tired to have a nervous breakdown!
You know what I wish? I wish parents would stop bringing melon in for their kids' snack.

*itches vigorously*

4:30 AM

FOOD POISONING on top of everything else

Somebody shoot me?
Apologies for the bandom spam, those of you loyal enough to stick around, but I have basically been retreating into a sparkly place to hide from the fact that today, on the whole? Sucked.

Worst dizzy spell in months. All day long I've felt like I was on a boat. It is so weird to realise that it is all in my head; the ground/bed/damned stairs/etc are not actually tilting and/or bobbing up and down. Because that's what it feels like to me. And then people look at me like I'm nuts.

I missed class. I cannot afford to keep missing class, okay, but I've apparently got to stay on the gluten for another three weeks. This is just...not going to end well, but knowing that only makes it worse, because the more I worry about missing class, the dizzier I get, and the dizzier I get, the more I miss class. I couldn't walk more than three steps this morning, there was no way in hell I was getting to class, which requires three flights of stairs as well as crowds and a forty-five minute drive. I know that in my head? But this schedule is ridiculously intense and I know I can't afford to be doing this.

Stupid body, I swear to god.

So yes. I find working out "Five Things Zack Learned to Add to His Fangirl Speech...And One He'll Eventually Have To," or "Brendon Urie: Emperor's Nightingale," or just reliving Greta Salpeter banging the keyboard? To be the answer to not going omgomg I'm going to fail, I'm never getting out.

Bandom (at least the corners I play in) is sparkly flirtation and silly AUs and pointless misunderstandings that end in romance, and I need a place to play, a place full of glitter and fluff, while everything else falls down around my ears.

So try to bear with me, all of you whom I've met in other ways, with my intense focus on something that really doesn't interest you at all...feel free to ignore it. I'm not asking that you fall in love with these boys or understand why I have. Just try to be glad that I've found a happy place, regardless of who/what occupies it.


So mad I could spit.

I missed a class I really can't afford to miss, took time off work, dealt with five insane phone calls yesterday as they tried to get some kind of idea what the hell they were doing (at which they clearly failed), waited FOUR HOURS to be taken into the procedure room, and was told:

Oh. Right. You had incorrect information on preparing for this test, which it was our job to inform you about. We can't do it on you.

NOT ONLY that--which would have been plenty--the doctor was ill-informed and patronizing. His information was based on a disease he still called sprew, which had no connection to the nervous system. His information on the accuracy of the blood test was supremely out of date. He told me it was placebo effect. (Hello? Like we haven't tried three other methods, each of them FAR MORE likely to have a placebo effect, if that was all it was.) He was all, you're depressed because you're stressed. This leads to sleep loss which leads to IBS. Decrease the stress in your life and you'll be fine!

My mother suggested we egg his office.

Anybody want to come to the grocery store with me?



April 2017



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