hair falls & such

cripes, i'm so bored at work.

i just looked on ebay (which i shouldn't have done), and they have two sets of GORGEOUS pink hair falls. for those of you who don't know, that's one of my deadliest weaknesses. i LOVE to have weird things in my hair. i don't necessarily mean live animals or a dung beetle or something. but i just love having weird hair. it's one of those quirky things - it helps me to *snicker* feel better about myself. isn't that strange?

now, i'm not too big on the dreaded falls. my favorites are the ones made of faux wool (not dreaded), yarn, ribbons, cyberlox, industrial tubing, etc - and the bigger and the more outrageous the color, the better. i still need to find some cheap silver goggles to go with mine.

and i'm not talking, wearing these for halloween or to a crazy party or something stupid like that. i mean, i've gotta run to the store for a few things, so i'll just wear my smaller green & purple falls. i just love doing my hair in...weird ways. my mom did my hair in all these kinked up swirlies one day in high school (my milk-maid hairdo), and it was THE COOLEST! in fact, if i had a picture...OH, I DO! oh, fart. i forgot. one of those turds broke my scanner (and never owned up to it), so i can't scan anything. well, crap - i'll find a way. anyway, when i get home, i'll post a couple of pics of my hair in falls, if i can find them. who knew my mother would have created such a freak! muahahaha!!!!

this thing is so retarded - sometimes it uploads the pics and sometimes, it just doesn't FEEL like it. *sigh* here we go. this is me and b at his lil field trip to the alabama theatre to "gobs of fun!" we had such an awesome time!

i just like to push the envelope to see how non-judgemental people can afford to be. i would like for people who i love or care about be able to say, "well, sure, she dresses like a weirdo, but she has an AWESOME personality!" but that's my only issue is what the people who love me think about me. i don't want them to think that just because i wear freak clothes makes me any MORE of a freak than i already am on the inside. gad, if it showed on the outside how i felt on the inside..........i shudder to think...

i really love it when little kids come up and say, "i like your hair!" ohhhhh, that's my favorite! <3

oh, and speaking of hair falls, here's my cake that heather made me for my bday - complete with hair falls and everything! omg, she knows me SOOO well! &=)




i really should post more pictures, but my narcolepsy is kicking in. i need to go to the doc and get this checked out - i can sleep for 6-12 solid hours and still be completely racked when i wake up in the morning. i don't know what's up with that. they've checked my blood and stuff but can never find anything wrong. apparently, there's this thing called "chronic fatigue syndrome," which in my case would be "chronic fat & lazy-ass syndrome". i just can't seem to get up the will or energy to do any-freaking-thing, and it's really pissing me off. (just for those of you who want to give me a hard time about eating meat, IT'S NOT THAT, so get up off...) i feel like my whole body is constantly made of lead, and i'm always having to drag it around. i'm so short (5'3") but this ghetto bootie ain't filled with air, ya know. ok, ok, i'm sitting in my rocking chair (aka talking about my illnesses too much), so lemme go see if i can find some cartoons to clear my head.

pander to me, spongebob! &=)

what IS that?!?

ok, so here's a pic of the infamous "pigtail" (RIP) - for those of you who don't like gross things, had i known better how to work this thing, i would have suggested you shut your eyes at the beginning. but now you know. and THAT was the one that fell out in my hand after i got out of the shower one day. i just reached back to blot the pigtail, and i pull my hand around, and OMG, IT'S IN MY HAND! so, i was totally freaked out that i'm holding what i had started considering as part of my anatomy. so i'm sorta running around like, omg, omg, what do i do? should i try to put it back in? and THAT gave me the major shivers, so i ran around a little more and tried to think of people to call, but after i ran out of ideas, i just laid it's tiny lil pink carcass on the bathroom counter and started taking pictures of it. just so everyone knows, i got THAT freak thing from my mom. and i know it's weird that i take pics of everything. but i do. and if i didn't, then YOU wouldn't know what a "pigtail (RIP) wick" looks like. incidentally, the one in the pic is TINY compared to the ones i'd had previous to that one. i wish i'd taken a picture of it against something, so you could see the size...maybe ON MY FACE! haha, yuck, just kidding. oops, i just burped a little in my mouth. i guess i didn't like that joke either.

i know some of you keep asking what kind of dog i have (had), and i keep avoiding the issue, so HERE SHE IS. she's a "badly bred boxer" (that's called an alliteration, for those of you who care - because i'm excited that i know that), and her name is jezzabelle. in this pic, she's sitting with my booboo kitty (and wormy, jezzy's first toy), who is my pride and joy, because if you DIDN'T know, booboo has 28 toes...or 26. anyway, we x-rayed her one time, and anyway, she's just flipping awesome. so, i saw my jezzy (who lives with phil, my ex) a few nights ago, and she looks EXACTLY the same, but she's HUUUUGE!!! i can't believe what a big, pretty girl she is! and she's soooo sweet! and she LOOOOVES her mama! *tears and tears* i love my pets, because they're my family, and they love you, NO MATTER WHAT!

i'm a huge animal advocate, and i'll get into that plenty later. people ask why i do what i do, why i believe the things i believe, why i'm a vegetarian, why when i open my mouth, it sounds like howler monkeys, but i'll delve into all of that a little bit at a time. right now, i'm supposed to be going to bed. but i've had some problems sleeping the past few nights. don't know what's up with that, because as everyone knows, i'm a world-class sleeper. all those people who say that stupid stuff about, "i'll sleep when i'm dead...," yo, you do that - i'm gonna get a headstart.

ps. i know i sorta messed up the text on this one, but i'll fix it tomorrow. right now, i think someone is sleeping BEFORE me! how DARE they??...

tv night

can't stay on long. just wanted to post that i'm much better, now that all but one are out of my house and no longer mooching on me. not that i'm helpless and stuff, but i was sorta fearing for my life, while the last one was screaming in my face...and me without my knife. i couldn't have gotten to my baseball bat in time, but anywash, all's well that ends well. oh, well, i mean it didn't end well, but you get me.
i went to see my ex and my doggie the other day after i got off work. i miss that little girlie. she was growling when i first walked through the door, so i walked down the hallway and said, "DON'T you growl at your mama!," and she started doing those huge jumps in the air, like a fish out of water! SHE REMEMBERED ME! i was all tearing up and stuff, because i really didn't think she'd remember who i was. and SHE'S HUGE!!! she's just like my baby jezzy, ONLY BIGGER! <3 sweet girl!!! my sweet baby girl, i miss her SO MUCH! and she's just as bad as ever! lmao! phil was showing me all the things she's chewed up, and i was stuffing my hands in my mouth so i wouldn't laugh! poor baby girl! i wish i had a place for her to come stay, because i would take her in a heartbeat.
and yes, then me and phil hugged, and it was all awkward and shit, and NO, we didn't kiss. and yes, i miss him. so leave me alone. i miss familiarity. or him. i don't know. i've never been in this situation before.

no, i really do miss him. i just wish we were...more compatible? or i was less of a bitch? or he didn't smoke pot? hell, i don't know. it's tv night, and i don't have the brain cells to think about this right now.

thank god for cartoons, or i'd get NOTHING off my mind at the end of the week. loves ya'll & missin' ya'll bunches. i'm feeling better, just need heather and others to keep kicking my butt on a daily basis. i'm slowly pulling it together. just don't know where i'm going with this. i feel so useless to the world right now. breathing air, and not rightfully earning it.

hey, leave me a damn comment or something, if you get on here to read. i like to know people are reading. not that i write for people to read, but i like to know if i say something that makes people go, "cripes, i was just thinking about that the other day, and i didn't know how to word it!" because that's my problem - i have LOTS to say, but i can't say it very good when i'm talking. typing or writing - TOTALLY DIFFERENT, don't ask me why. and so, i'm horrible when i fight or argue with people, because they're like, "yak yak blah, yakkity blah blah, meh meh foo!" and my brain is like, "just punch him. just punch him in the mouth to make him shut up because i can't think of anything to say right now. i'll think of something clever to say later...after a nap."

ok, cartoon-time.

comments...

sorry to whoever posts comments (taba, in particular), but some jackass keeps sending me these spam comments, so i've had to pull out the big guns. now, when you leave a comment, you have to do that stupid word verification, that incidentally, i hate when i have to do it, and then, i'll have to approve your comment, which i know i'll hate even more. you know, people can't just exist in their own worlds - they have to ooze their slimy selves over and infect yours. jerks...

i actually have a lot in my brain that i want to post, but i'm going to try to moderate my time on the computer. god knows we don't need to be on the computer, while we're doing...nothing.

i only had one surgery case today, so i'm going to be brainstorming on how to get myself out of the financial hell i've checked into. i've got to call the bank, report my card as stolen (long story, more later), stop all automatic drafts from my account, and see if i can get this mess cleaned up. god, this is ridiculous. i'm so stupid. i hope everyone i see from now on will just smack me on the back of the head and be like, "stupid..." you know, just as a reminder.

i'm gonna go headbutt something and call myself stupid, now. and then eat a cinnamon roll, cause i'm hungry. god, i'm boring when i'm in a bad mood. everyone, please stop reading this. i'm embarrassed now.

breathing just became easier

hi, i'm a lil better.

still don't have meds (or money), but i've eliminated one of my major problems. i kicked jeff out. and it HAD to be done. i called heather, crying, yesterday afternoon, and told her the story, and she was like, "omg, you need to just tell that guy to pack his shit and get the FUCK out of there - TODAY."

now, me calling her crying is nothing new. but when i explain, it will make much more sense. well, i think it does, and she said i was in the right. as i've said before, she's my reasonable side, so i buy everything she says...and then i sell it later for a profit. &=)

more on this story later...got surgery in a few...

all that lost time...

one of my very favorite sites is the postsecret.com website. i read the new secrets every monday, because there are so many secrets in my life that i'm afraid to admit. and ON SO MANY OCCASIONS, someone has posted something that i feel is truly mine.

this week, i saw "if you wait too long for the perfect moment, the perfect moment will pass you by".
i don't know what the perfect moment would be in my life, other than going home. i don't really know how to define "home" anymore. i wish that my family was so fulfilling that i never needed anyone else. but i do. because i'm a girl. and because i'm human. and because we were made to need someone of the opposite sex (or if you prefer, a partner) in order to exist.

also, "people with mental illness enrich our lives...so why do i feel like a freak?"
i know there are people out there who think that i use the term "depression" entirely too liberally. these are the people with whom i prefer not to associate myself. if you can't understand that i'm sick, and that i REALLY AND TRULY CANNOT CONTROL HOW I AM, then you need to find a pier and take a running leap.

here's a secret - when aaron and i first split, after i moved into my first apartment, i was raped. i tried to tell myself that i wasn't, and that i must have been asking for it, in some strange, sick way. but deep down inside, i know what it was. for the past 5 years, i've been emotionally abused by guys i've met. i've been physically abused by guys who get off on that kind of thing. and i've put up with it. why? i don't really know. because there's no way that you could ever find the perfect person through that.

honestly, why? because i feel as though i deserve it. i feel as though i deserve every slap, every punch, every horrible word, every one night stand, every tear, every heartache, every night of being so upset that i vomit until i pass out, and every night of crying myself to sleep. i deserve all of that, and more. i think, for the things that i've done, for the thoughts that cross my mind, for the man i gave up on, i don't deserve to die.

that would be the easy way out.

and sometimes, i think that's the only reason i'm still here, is because i deserve to suffer. and you know what? i've become pretty good at taking it with a closed mouth.

I WISH BEYOND EVERYTHING that i didn't have these days - that i never felt this way ever again. i'm in such financial straits that i can't even afford to buy medicine for myself. and so, i make due. i don't have anything but my friends and my family. i have my job, which i enjoy, because it keeps my mind occupied.

you know, i don't say these things, looking for pity. i get that from plenty of people. and it disgusts me. it makes me sick that people would pity someone as worthless as me. i say them because i have to. i have to remember who i am. deep down inside, i have a heart. right now, it's just a sucking, black hole that engulfs any emotion that comes within its gravitational field. but under that, it's a little, red heart. and it has good things in there somewhere. i think i've just forgotten how to use it.

life used to be so perfect for me. nowadays, a good day for me is if i don't have to take pills at the end of the day to stave off a panic attack. and you know what the sick part is? i'm not even suffering.

i have a job, i have an apartment, i have family & friends who love me dearly, & i'm incredibly healthy, except for the fucked-up brain part. i make myself suffer. no one else does it. i do it to myself. apparently, i'm addicted to sadness. i can't let go of the things that are no longer there. i can't push myself to move forward. i'm starting to lose the will to even get out of bed in the morning. no, i won't kill myself - i don't deserve to leave that easily.

don't pity me. i don't want it. i just want acceptance. i need encouragement. i need people to listen when i talk. i know things will get better (or worse), it's all just a matter of time. i don't know what will happen. i don't even know if i'll go to work tomorrow. maybe i'll get lucky and just stop waking up. just know that i get tired of fighting sometimes. this isn't easy for a girl who lost her mom at 22 and walked out on her husband and picture-perfect future at 25. my past crops up A LOT to bite me in the butt, as it should. i think about it more than i have the energy for. and like i said, this is a downswing. in a few weeks, i'll be a completely different person, and you'll never know these things were on my mind, aside from this pitiless post.

but this is me. this is the real me. this is who i am when i close the doors and when i don't answer the phone. these are the things that are constantly streaming through my mind at any given point in time. i can be totally happy, playing with my kids, when a memory comes flooding back and breaks my heart all over again. i swear i don't ask for this. because it hurts. and to be truthful, i'm really tired of hurting. the struggle sometimes becomes too much to bear. all i want is a second chance at a decent life. i want to never worry another soul with the things i do wrong. i want to never have to break down in the bathroom of a grocery store, because of "that song" that blares over the muzak. if i had the guts to set fire to the past and begin again, i would. but i don't. so i drag my skeleton-filled closet around with me everywhere i go.

i didn't have these problems before mom died. and no, incidentally, i don't blame her for my sickness. yes, i do blame her for some of my shortcomings, for how she raised me, for the things of which i was ignorant. but i'm an adult now, so the time for blaming your mom is over. also, i don't blame aaron for anything that happened. it was all me. i don't want anyone to ever think bad of him. he never did anything wrong. he was just one of the biggest victims in the self-discovery of my illness. i acknowledge that he's not coming back. i'm pretty sure i'll never even talk to him again. and for that, i mourn.



here's another secret:
i've written more than two dozen suicide notes in the past 7 years...and the part where you cry out to your dear friends and family for forgiveness - that's what has always stopped me.

one day, i'll find a place. but it won't be today, and i'm pretty sure it's not going to be tomorrow. as dr. agee says, i put it all in a box in my head and pull it out later when i have time.

i think i'm gonna need some more boxes.

for those of you who are lost...

there are people who read this (christ only knows why), who don't really understand me.


just to let you know, i'm in a downswing. i'll brood for a couple of weeks, then i'll be ok. it's the way my life has been, coming up this november 9, for the past 7 years.



and it will continue until i die.

i hate me

i hate me. isn't that enough? does it have to be more? how much can you possibly hate yourself and continue to live with yourself? is there a point where you can hate yourself so much that you finally implode and can never hurt anyone again?



I have to block out thoughts of you so I don’t lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you. will you never call again?
And will you never say you that love me just to put in my face?
And will you never try to reach me? it is I that wanted space

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things i didn't do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

I’m sober now for 3 whole months; it’s one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won’t touch again
And in a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I’ll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then i fell down yelling “make it go away!”
Just make her smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered “how can you do this to me?”

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you



i just found out that amanda peet is pregnant. i know that means nothing to anyone, but me and the few people to whom i've mentioned it. it's one of those things that no one would really get, even if i explained it to them.

someone asked me the other day what i wanted. what do i want? that's a great question. and on days like this, i'm pretty sure i could answer it completely. i want my ex-husband back. and i'll never get him. he's gone, and i'm dead to him. i feel like i can say that out in public now, and not be crucified. he's the only one who ever understood me, and at this point in my life, i can safely say, he's the only one who ever WILL have understood me. it doesn't go much farther than that. i can actually relate to my 40-year-old uncle, who still lives at home with his mom. i never thought i'd be able to say that. but our dilemmas are so similar, it's almost cosmically sick.

what do i want? i want someone who gets me. i want someone who loves me above everything else in life. i want someone who's main reason in waking up in the morning is me. i want my place on the pedestal back. i live for my friends & family, and i want someone who does the same for me/us. i want a family. i want a real life, not this faux-shit i've been experiencing since aaron's been gone. what a complete crock of shit, and i only do it to myself - over and over and over again.

i made a new friend on myspace, and he hit the nail on the head - he said my feelings for aaron are still there - i'm just trying to find someone to fit in that aaron-shaped hole. and so far, i've found nothing remotely close. i wish TO GOD that i could say i didn't love him anymore. but i can't. i love him. i love who he was, and i know i would love who he is. i've never doubted that. and i've tried to quash that sick, strange, uneasy feeling, that won't go away. i've tried to kill it with everything that makes me who i am. i've used all my energy to kill it, kill that tiny grain of hope that remains for NO REASON. but it won't go away. and i feel like it's killing me. it poisons every thought i have. every day is a new day to figure out some sick, deranged way to torture myself with the thought of him, what we had. it was perfect, and i'll slit the throat of anyone who says otherwise. it was me. when i lost my mom, i lost my mind, and that's the only way to describe it.

i have to eat now. i don't know why, but i keep living. i can't help but laugh at the sick and twisted irony. i laugh while the tears flow freely. everything i hear is a piece of my soul, crying out to be heard.

i wish it would shut the hell up.

waiting for the toilet paper

current mood: sleepy

i'm awake now, and i tried to do that stupid posting a pic to my bio, but it won't work, because I'M retarded. so screw.

anyway, i'm awake, and i had to get toilet paper. actually, i had to sit and wait while ricky went to the store to BUY some toilet paper. yeah, we're doing goooood. we're actually supposed to be getting ready to go apartment hunting.

those damn apartments...they killed my father and raped my sister. i'll get you, chateau orleans. i'll get you...

anyway, we gotta hurry up and get out of here before i kill someone. namely jeff. i'm just ready to get the f out of here. i should still be living alone, but i just realized i hate that. i'm a ween, and i like for someone to sleep in the bed with me. it's not that i get scared. i'm just...strange. it doesn't matter who it is - it could possibly be someone i totally hate. maybe i should just get a corpse or a blow-up person to keep in the bed. because i don't really cater to someone being here while i'm awake. i can do awake just fine sometimes. but asleep - nah. and i'm not scared of the dark, and since that jackhole took my knife, i have my baseball bat, so i'm not scared. i'll nail a fool for knocking on the door - i can protect the homestead. i just hate being alone while i'm unconscious. weird, huh?

oh, and i wrote this on myspace. i hate having two blog-ish things. but here:

Thursday, September 28, 2006

living the lie
Current mood: disappointed

i just realized that i'm living a lie, and i can't stop. how do you stop living the only life you know? what if you hate it? what if you hate everything? how do you just walk away and start over? is it possible? i don't think so. i don't know. but i'm sure as hell going to try. little by little, i have to break away. there's very few things in this life that i want, and i just realized it. it's like when you think of something really important, and you're sitting on the toilet. well, i was in the shower. and i got it. and now i have to fix it. i'm always good at fucking things up, but i suck at fixing them.

ahhhhh, well, we'll see.

**so, i wrote that the other day. and i keep thinking there's something on my mind that i need to type, but now it's gone. i hate that. it just means it will crop up and bother me later when i don't have any paper or a pen or something.
cripes, i'm so sleepy. must...find...apartment.......get the.....hell....out of.....dodge......

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.............

my bday pic

this is me at my birthday with heather. we've gone to bahama breeze for my bday for the past two years, because they always have good drinks, and we drink and yak until they just about kick us out. i'm posting this, because apparently i have to post a pic in order to make one get on my profile. or not. maybe i have no idea what i'm talking about. who knows anymore?

anudder survey

i meant to post this about a hundred years ago. oh well, here ya go.

this one is from my VERY good friend, paula:

Your name:
Jennifer Harper

Where did we meet:
Marc Broussard show, duh!

Take a stab at my middle name:
It begins with a b

How long have you known Me:
too long; hold on....3 years or so

Do I smoke:
only when you drink I think

What was your first impression of me upon meeting:
you looked so bored, felt sorry for you

Color of my eyes:
brown I think

Do I have any siblings:
nope

What's one of my favorite things to do:
being a drama queen

Do you remember one of the first things I said to you:
have no idea, but I remember I introduced myself and that girl I was working with.

Do you think I am ghetto or conservative:
what the hell is this? Conservative people can be ghetto as hell.

What's my favorite type of music:
metal

What is the best feature about me:
your loyalty to friends

Am I shy or outgoing:
depends on who you're around

Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:
rebel to the point of driving people nuts

What's your favorite memory of me:
rockin out at korn

Any special talents:
driving people crazy, being hyper

Would you consider me a friend:
of course

If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:
jimmy the spazz

If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what one thing would I bring:
valium to keep you calm

the WHOLE pigtail story

(this was friday afternoon - it is now saturday)

i'm still sitting at work, bored to friggin' death. gould hasn't been calling for c-arm for any of his cases, except for one this morning, and that's really weird. so, i have nothing to do. except go around the hospital and steal magazines. oh, yeah, that's something you probably never knew about me is that i have turned into the world's biggest magazine klepto. i don't really remember when it started, but i don't care if it's good housekeeping, vogue or jet, there's going to be some article or recipe or cute thing in there that i want, and sometimes i'm too embarrassed to rip out the page, so i just take the whole thing. ever wonder why i carry such a big bag all the time? ok, well, it's for that and to hide candy and smoothies in when i go to the movies. so there. it's out. i steal magazines. well, no, i just USE them. not from peoples' houses, because THAT would be stealing. only from doctors' offices. and my hospital. because if they're laying down, they're fair game.

ok, that's all.

um, the whole reason i was posting again today is because i wanted to record the story of heather, me and the pilonidal cyst. i can't remember if i told it properly, so HERE GOES:

i found the "thing in my buttcrack" (which was its preliminary name), called the doc's office, described it in full, colorful detail (along with the n/v, dizziness & mid-grade fever), and she was like, "um, you better just come in". so, i got there and had to see a male doc (dr gleason) on whom i've never even laid eyes before. he came in, "hi, nice to meet you" - pleasantries were awkwardly exchanged as i lay there with my fanny up in the air, he pulls the sheet down and says,
"ohhhhhhhhhhhhh gosh." (that's my favorite thing to hear - in the doctor's office & while getting my hair cut)
"oh gosh, what?"
he said he knew what it was just from the description they were giving him & WHERE IT WAS. (mind you, i don't know the medical term for fanny crack, so i just kept saying that) ok, blah, blah, pilonidal cyst, only pops up in that particular area, etc, etc.
"so, what you're saying specifically, is i have a buttcrack cyst?"
he actually laughed and said,
"yep, so you need to head to the er - we'll call and let them know you're on the way - and talk to a general surgeon, because that thing needs to be taken care of ASAP."

i staggered up to the xray dept, because i thought that's where heather was still visiting, but i wasn't thinking very clearly. she had specifically told me to CALL HER when i got out, so she wouldn't have to lay claim to me upstairs, but it happened anyway. i got up there, and she had already gone back down. being that i looked homeless, and severely ill to boot, i freaked all of her co-workers out (no, really, they looked SCARED), and stumbled back down to find her. she drops me off at the er, goes to pick up ricky and take him and the twins home, then comes back.

i begged her to bring food. thank god. she shows up with spongebob cheeze-its and a baggie full of chocolate candy. they're not going to tell ME not to eat from the junk pyramid.

so the doc comes in, and before he EVEN touches me, i'm like (while i'm crawling over to hide behind the stretcher and throwing dirty needles in his path to slow him down), "hey, do you even KNOW what a pilonidal cyst is? i mean, have you had DEALINGS with one??? cause dr gleason told me not to let you touch me if it's, like, your second day or something." he was well-acquainted with them, and he was actually very good and gentle with me.

so, i laid on my tummy, and he dosed me up with lidocaine. that was the worst, since they were sticking me in a place that was already red and infected beyond all belief, so it hurt worse than any pain i've ever felt in my life (yeah, i know i haven't had kids yet, so a sore throat, painful gas and amoebic dysentery is all i have to compare it to). tears were running down the sides of my face, even though i wasn't crying, and i know i was probably breaking heather's hands, even though she won't say. i also kept apologizing for moving around so much - they said i wasn't, but i felt like i was about to kick the doc in the head. maybe i just wanted to.

my fanny kept squinching up closed, and i was really worried the doc was going to get his hand caught. i didn't realize it, but that's one of those kinds of muscles that you can't control when it's scared. well, YOU know, when someone tells a gross story or talks about something that hurts, and your butthole sorta shrinks up into itself. it was doing that, only it was my WHOLE butt, and it was taking the doc down with it. i knew it was going to be one of those, "ok, all finished!...wait, where's my watch?" things. i guess your body just has all those automatic responses to protect you from the really dangerous things, like doctors and shark bites and pencils and falling and glass shards in your eyes and stuff.

so, he takes the scalpel and carves this thing open ("they carved you up like a christmas turkey," heather said). i had my head turned, and he must have made the first cut, and i saw heather and nurse both lean WAY back. the nurse actually took a step backwards. i was like, "hey, where's everyone going?" the nurse said, "well, i don't want it in my eye." "yeah, it's on MY BUTT, and i wouldn't want it in my eye either." so, he's hacking and chopping away, and i asked heather, "what's he doing?" she said, "i don't know. it's gross. i can't look at it," and i was like, "look at it! LOOK AT IT!!!! tell me what he's doing!!!" so, she consented and gave me the blow by blow of everything he did. she was brave. so, he did all that really gross stuff that i've already previously described, and packed it with the iodophore wick and cut it off. he went out to write my scrips, leaving me there, nearly breathless and ALMOST crying on the stretcher. as i'm writhing in pain, heather looks down and says, "awww. it looks like you have a little pigtail! it's a little, sorta pinkish, curly pigtail!" that, like, made everything better. i was so excited to go in with an abscess and come out with a tail. that's the coolest hospital visit i've ever had.

actually, you know, right before he got finished packing it, my percocet kicked in, and heather said, "ohhh, you got that warm, sweatery feeling, like everything's going to be ok?" i said yeah, like my cheeks were all flushed and i loved everyone (just like i am when i'm drunk).

so, i wasn't writhing THAT bad. and then, the lidocaine wore off...........

at this point you can probably guess what happened, and you can insert your own words, because whatever you think it was, i probably said it.

surveys

i don't know why, but i LOVE these stupid questionnaires, where you quiz each other about yourself, to see what the other person is going to say or how well they think they know you. i want to post the ones people wrote about me, just so you can see what a diverse and strange individual i am!...you know, i didn't mean for that to sound so "LOOK AT ME!" *trumpets blaring* *red carpet rolls out* ew. i hate sounding selfish or narcissistic. it makes my tummy hurt. anyway, here's what other people think of me! you might learn things you NEVER KNEW!!!!

heather, my best friend:

Your name:
Jennifer Marie Braxton Harper

Where did we meet:
The Kirklin Clinic--you had pigtails that day

Take a stab at my middle name:
M-a-r-i-e

How long have you known Me:
crap...4 yrs?

Do I smoke:
only second hand

What was your first impression of me upon meeting:
That you looked like a member of my family. Then you spoke and knew that you were my twin, switch at birth.

Color of my eyes:
light brown

Do I have any siblings:
yes, half brother, half sister

What's one of my favorite things to do:
laundry

Do you remember one of the first things I said to you:
yes. oh, do you want to say what it was? "I love Harry Potter, too!" or "Get out of way, bitch!" Something like that.

Do you think I am ghetto or conservative:
completely ghetto

What's my favorite type of music:
psycho slam and coldplay, although I've never heard you listen to music. Have you ever noticed that? We always talk too much to ever have music on.

What is the best feature about me:
your humor, your laugh, and your pilonidal cyst.

Am I shy or outgoing:
shy person trapped in an outgoing body.

Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:
depends on if you like the rule. But usually you don't so, Rebel.

What's your favorite memory of me:
jeez. are you kidding? how can I choose? Ok. It's the Krazy Glue Incident of '04. That look of shear panic at the figurine stuck on your finger and begging for 911 is locked in my memory foreva.

Any special talents:
can sugically remove eye cheese. Clean and fold clothes better than a Chinese laundry. Stunt driving. Clogging, though I've yet to see any. And blow jobs.

Would you consider me a friend:
uh...yes. What kind of question is this? Jennifer, did you type up this test?

If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:
wack-a-do buttcrack

If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what one thing would I bring:
your camera. when you don't have one stolen. To take pictures of sand and water. And of which ever one of us wasn't cannibalized. It would be a self portrait.

:-)

pretty accurate, i think. heather's the one who holds the key to all my "dirty laundry," which i end up doing every time i go over to her house, because it relaxes me, and it stresses her out. ("i didn't ask you to come over to do my laundry." "i know, but i had a bad day.")


this one is from my cousin, katy:

Your name:
I guess it's Jennifer. Or do you want my name? In that case it's Katy.

Where did we meet:
Probably in the hospital when I was born!

Take a stab at my middle name:
Marie

How long have you known Me:
27 years

Do I smoke:
no

What was your first impression of me upon meeting:
probably that you were a little blurry. Like everything else around me.

Color of my eyes:
Brown

Do I have any siblings:
yes

What's one of my favorite things to do:
Email

Do you remember one of the first things I said to you:
Something like, "Hey. This is where Columbus discovered America!"

Do you think I am ghetto or conservative:
I don't understand this scale so I'll just say Ghetto for fun.

What's my favorite type of music:
I don't know this one... I'll jsut say Ghetto for fun again.

What is the best feature about me:
Your smile and your great hair!

Am I shy or outgoing:
I think it probably depends on the situation but mostly outgoing.

Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules:
I think it might depend on whose rules they are.

What's your favorite memory of me:
Playing at Grammy's house. Going to the beach together.

Any special talents:
you can clog!

Would you consider me a friend:
of course

If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be:
dur! Jimmy

If you and I were stranded on a desert island, what one thing would I bring:
your cat

now, me and kate grew up together and spent most of our young lives around each other. i did INDIRECTLY get her in trouble at school, by telling her that columbus discovered america in our grandmother's backyard. but for the record, she used to eat wild onions out of the yard and tell me they gave her "superpowers," then she would ruuuuun around the yard really fast, to prove it. and then her mom would call my mom and ask why she had diarrhea that night, and once again, i'd get the spanish inqusition.

so, there. we're even. &=)


i think i have more of these, so i'll post them when i find them. and you're always welcome to fill one out and send me one (or let me fill one out for you!). gordon and i have been talking about making our own list of crazy questions to circulate (because everyone LOVES chain, trash, fw:re:re:re:re:re:re:re:re:, "i know a guy who actually WON the ferrari," "microsoft is tracking this and will donate $5 for every email forwarded," "make your penis at least 7x larger!" kinds of letters. but we're lazy, and haven't.

ok, i'm at work, and i'm bored out of my gourd. i know they want us to stay off the computers, but i couldn't get on last night, a) because i pulled a double & worked at trinity from 4p-9p, and b) because the ants were SWARMING the computer the other day, so i made ricky unplug everything and move it into the living room, which, to him, sounded like, "in front of the bed," so we just haven't gotten it moved and plugged back in, yet.


oh, and it's payday. and i FINALLY got my rent paid. so, i'm terribly happy. (yes, it's the 22nd of september, and i'm JUST NOW paying rent - it's been a really bad month, hence one of the many reasons i hate septembers now). i just have to make sure to i pay off the credit card thugs, so i can keep my kneecaps this month.

(ooo, i just got to outspell someone on "fajita" just now - you don't know how happy it makes me to be a human dictionary. if i have no other talents than that, clogging, doing laundry & stunt driving, i'm a happy, happy girl.)

and for those of you keeping count, i have fanny cheek-packing visit #6 tomorrow, then me and the pigtail are driving out to town to see my family, because i'm HAVING WITHDRAWALS!!!! RAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i've been like a crack fiend, trying to go see my family; trading food for brief cellphone conversations, slipping people $10 to bring me articles of their clothing, so i can smell them, and now, i'm going through detox, and i'm a COMPLETE bitch without them, which should make everyone in a 60-mile radius slightly on edge. so, i'm getting my fix tomorrow. hope everyone's at home, because i don't have any horse heads to leave in beds. maybe i could just leave pickle butts and carrot tops - THAT would freak people out.

well, except amy.
one time, when my ex-husband had just started coming to visit my family, i freaked out (long story) and left the house. i left him there, wearing my jammies, which were too small, and while he was trying to busy himself by burning dryer lint, he stepped on a cheese weenie. we still laugh about that.

ok, NOW i'm going. they're ordering roly poly, and since i have money today &=), i think i'll treat myself to something. hell, i deserve it. even though, it's probably going to put me in the hole. oh well! it's just paper! that the entire universe revolves around! and that's really disturbing!
&=)

first picture - it's a yucky one

current mood: accomplished!

rawwwwk. i did it. ok, for those of you (like me) who enjoy gross things, THIS is what i have. and unfortunately, mine didn't come up on the small of my back, like the nice pg-rated picture, but actually UNDER where the apex of the pilonidal dimple arrow rests. so it's IN my crack...and it is GROOOOSSSS. plus, i have to get the whole entire thing taken out, which from what i read, is about half as long as my butt. so, there you go - knowledge is power!

and you thought i was kidding when i said "check your buttcracks."

brrrr....

current mood: cold...and sorta happy

it's a chilly day here at cgr (my apt, colonial grand at riverchase) in the center of hell. oops, i was just about to say something about my ants dying off, but there goes one across the screen. geez, i don't even have the energy to get rid of him. they're starting to overpower me, and i'm pretty sure i'm just going to end up signing my lease over to them. he's standing on "them" right now...HE KNOWS.

um, ok, so it was my first day back at work, and let me tell you, for all the sh*% i've been through with this ass thing (well, that censoring didn't work well, huh?), i didn't really, truly appreciate how HARD my fanny works ALL DAY, even when i'm not doing anything! all the walking around i did and standing and attempting to sit and repeating my horrendously graphic and disgusting story to about 900 people, MY BUTT IS KILLING ME. at least people missed me. that was...weird. i kept checking the mail every day, thinking i would get one in there that was like:

Dear Jennifer,

You are an idiot, and no one here believes your surgery / butt cyst story. You may has well have told us they pulled a gold-plated monkey out of your ass.

Love,
Everyone at Your Work

PS. You're so totally fired, so don't bother coming in to shoot up the place, because we already know what you look like.

but it actually DIDN'T go down like that. everyone was very kind and interested in my butt. (but my monkey's feelings were huuuurt, let me tell you...) much to heather's chagrin, i'm sure, i haven't shown my butt to anyone...YET. she told me, "i know you think no one believes you, but they do, and please, because i know you're going to...DON'T show anyone."
hey, what's wrong with my pigtail? i kinda like it now. &=) other than the fact that it feels like i constantly have to take a crap (tmi, i know, but remember who's site this is = NOT YOURS), i kinda dig being able to say, "um, could you watch that? you almost smashed my pigtail," and people giving me that WAAAAY too curious look that always ends up in the spanish inquisition. and everyone knows me - "mouth of the south," what mom always used to call me! hey, i came by it honestly, so get off. anyway, my point being, i always point out the blatently obvious or bring up the stuff that no one wants to talk about. they know i talk too much. YOU know i talk too much. which means this entire paragraph was pretty irrelevant...

wtf, why is my "delete" key not working? jesus h palomino on the top of a friggin house with a banana in his hand, GOD! i keep telling these asses who live with me to STOP F____ WITH MY COMPUTER! dammit, every friggin TIME i come in here, something's weird with this thing. god.


GET OUT!!!! EVERYBODY JUST GET OUT!


frig.

*sigh*

anyway, i'm finished. i still don't know why the key doesn't work (gordon, why doesn't it work?). omg, this totally makes me want to choke someone. those are like the two things that piss me off the most in the universe - when someone messes with my computer, and when someone eats ANY of my krispy kreme doughnuts. oh, yeah, you're looking at MAD, then. i mean CURSING mad. i didn't BUY THEM FOR YOU. YOU are not ON your period. YOU did not just HAVE some femalian surgery and now your fanny is broken and you can't even stop crying long to take a bite of the one doughnut you got, because you've already cried so hard for so long that NOW you're snubbing, and if you put the doughnut in your mouth, you might aspirate it into your lungs, whereas you'll more than likely contract pneumonia and have to be put in the hospital, and lemme tell you, ain't NOBODY gonna believe THAT string of bad luck. not even me, and i've been there, pal.

*sigh*

ok, well, yeah, and i guess i need to fess up. i haven't done all of this on my own. (well, most of it i have. like, the cyst-having was my idea.) my friend ricky (whitaker) has been helping me. uh, we met on a dating website (go ahead and cringe, but the only place i go is heather's, and i don't meet any new guys there - just the lawn guys and the mailman - the mailman was "busy" and the lawn guys have girlfriends. fyi, i don't GO OUT, so get off me)....(that was a joke, btw - i don't really hit on the people around her house - i make her take me down to the piggly-wiggly, so i can stalk guys in produce), and i was planning on helping him out through a rough patch in his life, but i think he's ended up helping me way more than i have him, although i'm pretty sure he'd beg to differ. and yes, we're dating. this was not the "jennifer's halfway house of ulterior motives," although i know from first glance, it sure as hell looks that way. the way we ended up was weird, but we're together now, so meh. i like him. he's a nice guy, and he's NOT mean to me. so, i found one who can be nice and NOT make me feel like crap. on the downside, he's had a lot of acid in his past and now sees tracers and talks to himself about 110% of the time, but hey, you take the good with the strange. he adores me, and HE DOESN'T HIT ME. i mean, not that phil did, but you get me. i still love phil, and i'd like to be his friend one day, but right now, i'm still weird. i've never been friends with an ex before, and i haven't been researching the subject heavily.

woah! my delete key just spontaneously started working again! um, ok jeff, i take back all that stuff i was saying about you in my head. *erk*

ok, so what happened today? ahhh, nothing. a bunch of people asked me where i was, we got new flooring in the dept, so all of our equipment is now in place, and i got to go see the new orthpaedic clinic being built where old sports medicine was. it's pretty gutted and bare to think that bitch has to be ready BEFORE oct 18. wow. oh, and our 3 best techs are going downstairs (don't really know what they were thinking with THAT move, but i'm not boss, so i don't care), brenda, dina & megan. i'll miss them, cause they're my favorites. as for sheryl (aforementioned spawnette of satan), i hear she's changing shifts, but i don't care SO MUCH that i didn't even ask. maybe her shift will be her working 4p-11p...with alligators...in a pit...of chicken guts. nah, just kidding. we're ok, i just don't really care. and i want it to stay that way.

i know, i know. you think i'm just a cold-hearted bitch. and you'd be right, but only by a percentage. if you ask what percentage, i'd say "a hat made out of weenies" because i don't know. actually, i want to BE a weenie for halloween, but i don't know who sells weenie costumes. i don't WANT the bun on it. just the weenie. why is that so hard for people to understand?? JUST THE WEENIE.

ok, enough, ENOUGH of this nonsense. i have to go tend to things about harper haven (we're gay-friendly, btw, no matter what the guys say). and booboo is staring at me through the sliding glass door, which usually means, "you give me fake mice covered in colorful fabrics to play with and expect me to be satisfied with that. come sit with me for 5 minutes out of your extraordinarily busy day." so, i'm gonna.

oh, and for those of you keeping up with my medical condition, i have to go to the ER for my 5th butt-probing visit tomorrow morning. HOPEFULLY, this will be the last in the series of pigtails, although i will feel quite naked without a GIANT BANDAGE ON MY ASS. i've been taking my antibiotics like a good girl, and i'm even afraid i might have taken them twice this morning. but hey, if this thing was on YOUR butt...yeah...that's what i thought.

one more thing - um, if i ever make any grammatical errors, please DON'T overlook them. send me an em or a comment and chastise the crap out of me. i mean, i DO have a tendency to make up my own words, even my own swears, and sometimes i try to spell sounds, but anything that we learned in the 2nd grade, that i apparently didn't pick up on, let me know.

omg, i just remembered --- mine was the word "because". ARRRRRGGG!!! i've hated that word ever since the 2nd grade. mrs. thomas made us go to the blackboard and write words, and mine was "because, and so i went up there, and spelled it "beacause" or something stupid like that, and she was like, "no, SIT DOWN," and EVER SINCE THEN, i've NEVER misspelled that word. how about that? the tortured stories of a once-overachiever. i'm the ONLY person i know who has the dictionary/thesaurus bookmarked on her computer as second under google. freak, huh?

ok, i'm stopping now. i really could go on, but i guess i want to GAIN readers, not KILL them.

in the words of duplicate calvin, "hoffa gut tay"! &=)

what's she saying?

Treas em wankeing ont sime ploked peish rof phen sumbloat syug si phat phey gavet peish ta paat ein pheeir sumbloats. Aslu unaffoctor gef cak siructiun gill bo cak spiarshoot anet cak GurGanglo gur pwucossing pwutwam.

Yoii rockem sockem mow-em yown.

Et tam neque pecun modut est neque nonor et imper ned libidig met, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed ut labore et dolore magna aliquam makes one wonder who would ever read this stuff?

Et harumd und lookum like Greek to me.

i actually found these statements on the sample blog, and i thought they were hilarious (me & my uncultured mind - hey, heather's the only reason i still think fart jokes are funny). i just wanted to see IF anyone was reading. if not, pro dedecus!
i'm feeling much better, by the way - now, if they'd only let me come back to work....

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet! Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet!

("Neither is there anyone who loves pain itself since it is pain and thus wants to obtain it")

hey, and if anyone can decipher the "how to post a picture" thing, please let me know, because i have NO clue how to put a pic on here. it's kind of sad, because i don't really have the patience or attention-span to read over it. in fact, i don't have the attention span to finish thi

running through the rain

my uncle sent this to me. it's such a sweet story. i'm actually crying now, thinking back on the message. i, too, am having a lot of problems in my life right now - some problems i created for myself, others i had no control over - and i ran through the rain not too long ago. now, i'm glad i did.

jimmy &=)

ps.
i'm sorry to those of you i've neglected these past couple weeks. i always hope i'll stop doing that to people i love, but i'm still working on it. to feel so generous, i sure act selfishly.

Subject: Running through the rain

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.
It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Target. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.
The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, "Mom, let's run through the rain," she said.
"What?" Mom asked.
"Let's run through the rain!" she repeated.
"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," Mom replied.
The young child waited about another minute and repeated, "Mom, let's run through the rain."
"We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said.
"No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning," the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.
"This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?"
"Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!'"
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.
Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now, some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.
"Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If God lets us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said.
Then, off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and, yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.

And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories...
So, don't forget to make time and take opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.

I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Send this to the people you'll never forget, and remember to also send it to the person who sent it to you. It's a short message to let them know that you'll never forget them.
If you don't send it to anyone, it means you're in a hurry. Take the time to live!!!

the story of the meat sandwich

i've been asked, on more than one occasion, why i refer to my grandmother's knee surgery using various types of meats and foods in some of my posts (or out loud). so, HERE'S the story:

my grandmother had her initial total knee replacement surgery back in 199_, at montclair, back when i wasn't in the health care biz. her surgery was done by dr. thomas who has recently, much to my delight, has recently retired.

little, tiny, old people, you can now come out from hiding - the bad man is gone. just beware of jimmie harvey. (......i've never actually KNOWN anyone to get sued for slander, but there's a first time for everything, eg. eating shampoo...hence the directions on the back of the bottle, for those of you who didn't get that.)

anywho, dr. thomas came out of surgery to talk to my family, and amy & mom said while he was talking, he was eating crackers, and not only dropping the cracker crumbs on his giant, grotesque belly, but cracker crumbs were spraying from his mouth as he talked. it's kinda like that game where someone makes you eat a cracker & then whistle. only this time, you're a surgeon trying to talk to family about a serious surgery done on one of their members and might want to maintain some sort of PROFESSIONAL IMAGE. but, i digress.

so, mom & amy got sprayed with crackers, and grammy came out with a bum prosthesis...literally, they must have excised it from a bum's leg and given it to her. since that happened, i figured it was lunchtime & they must have brought his lunch into the OR, and he's working away, sticks the prothesis in, lays down his ham sandwich on the prosthesis, and says, "ok, let's close 'er up!" so, grammy has a ham sandwich (or bologna, depending on his preference - hell, he's a doctor. it could have been a plate of beef wellington, for all i know) in her knee, and that's why she's been having NOTHING but constant problems with that knee.

so, i always kid with her about it. when she winces from the pain, i'm like, "uh oh, is it the ham sandwich?" and she just laughs and nods. i mean, i think that's one of the only ways she's been able to deal with this is laughing about certain things.

i'd like to mention on a side note (and also in my defense to the courts), as he was hammering the prosthesis into her tibia (i know what they do now, since i'm in the OR on these cases all the time), they BROKE a good-sized shard off her tibia (no, wait, it gets worse) and proceeded to screw it back in (wait for it...) and then, SEND HER TO PHYSICAL THERAPY! (there it is!)

so, here's this tiny, cute, old, bun-haired lady, with a new prosthesis AND a broken leg, and they send her to PT to start getting her mobility back. FYI, for those of you who aren't following me, broken bones + PT = a whole new level of hell. that's why they put REALLY HARD CASTS on people with broken bones & tell them to keep the part IMMOBILE, because the bone is HEALING.

i'd like to also mention that we didn't find out about all this until about 2 or 3 years later, when she visited dr. cuckler (a doc who specializes in fixing other peoples' mistakes) at TKC.

ahhhh, all this crap my family has been through and working in the OR & the healthcare industry has given me a whole new perspective on docs. i know you really have to do your homework, when it comes to your own health, and i really try to encourage that of all my patients...well, the ones that aren't under anesthesia. that, and second opinions are very important, if not almost imperative. just because the sign on the interstate says that uab hospital is one of the top 5 in the nation, doesn't mean all the docs are.

i know they tell you that whole, "what do they call the doctor who graduated last in his class? 'doctor,'" but i don't buy it for a second. there are good docs, & there are bad docs. and i've seen a whole lot of both.

to sum up, environmental extortion is around us all....wait. sorry. wrong train of thought. grammy's just a gal who got a raw deal. she's been in and out of the hospital & doc with this knee, and i know she's getting tired of it. speaking of the top 5 hospitals, she went in for cellulitis (the meat sandwich) not too long ago, and she was in a ton of pain & agony. they started sending PT (not again) to get her up and moving, while they had her on a major round of rocephin, which was making her very weak. by the time she was able to shuffle her way out to the hospital, they kicked her out, without even making sure the infection was under control. just to update you, it's not. she & i are racing to see who can visit the doctor more times in one week - i'm winning right now, but she always comes up and blows me away.

so, thanks, top 5! and i'd also like to thank medicare (medifraud) for being so prompt in sending her home.

we'll be trying st. vincents next time, assuming jimmy andrews doesn't leave and the entire hospital doesn't go under. i can't believe the fate of that entire hospital rests on the shoulders of that one man who thinks himself better than God....ah, but that's another story! &=)

blog address & fanny pokin'

Sunday, September 17, 2006

blog address & fanny pokin'

Current mood: awake

ok, i found it - this is the link to my OTHER blog. it's the same stuff that's posted on here, but this myspace stuff just isnt' reliable sometimes, especially since shelb had her account deleted 4 different times, and we still can't find out why. ok, here she is:

http://jimmyrawks.blogspot.com

so, that's my other blog. hey, why is this typing like this? dangit. ahh, i don't feel like changing it. ok, anyway, there's my OTHER blog. which is the same as this. but is for people who are not connected to myspace. and, apparently, this is a giant hyperlink. .com.

oh, and i have to go back to the er today for packing round #3, so everyone wish me luck. pray for TONS OF LIDOCAINE. the pain meds, i don't care so much about, but the local anesthetic - yeah, that's my friend. the first couple of times, i was ok, but it's getting to the point where i'm so tired of being in pain, i'm ready to hold someone hostage if they don't set me up for surgery to just take the whole damn thing out.
it's a CYST, which means it's just a pocket within my...buttcrack, that's holding all this stuff - so, my reasoning is, why not take it out? but i think the fact that mine has actually turned into an abscess, which is somehow congruent with my tailbone rotting and eventually falling off, i think that's made it 50 billion times worse than it could have been.
hey, you know me - i like to do things to the EXTREME!!!! extreme cyst-having!!!! WOOOO!!!

plus, i'm probably going to have to have a liver transplant after all the pain meds i've been taking. i think i'm addicted, not to the meds themselves, but the whole "not being in pain" thing.

yeah, i like that feeling a lot.

people helping my ass

Originally posted Saturday, September 16, 2006

people helping my ass
Current mood: exhausted

yeah, this post will probably be short-ish too. i haven't been feeling too hot lately. it seems like whatever can go wrong IS going wrong. i went in for a minor surgery and came out with a somewhat serious and debilitating infection, that i'd like to point out is NOT nosocomial (hospital-acquired). it's a staph infection, but i didn't get it from the surgery i had - it just....kind of....happened. and it's in...my butt. anyway, i didn't get it FROM the surgery, but i think the fact that i was resting solely on my tailbone for 2.5 hours made the cyst that was apparently already there abscess, and everything just sprung into action.

nevertheless, i've been doing everything they tell me and trying to TELL myself i'm better, but i'm not. and i know i'm not getting worse, i'm just hurting worse. i have to go to the er every 2 days, so they can pull out the old packing, squeeze it, probe it (blah), irrigate & clean it, and repack it - but each time they do this, they're putting in MORE packing, and it's making the pain worse. oh yeah, and i usually say the abc's when i'm in a lot of pain - i thought that relevant to mention.

oh, and it's called a pilonidal cyst. well, actually, mine has turned into an abscess.

i'm worried about work, because i don't really need to take any more time off. well, i'm worried about money too, because as bad as this hurts, my financial situation is worse. i had to make one of my roommates leave, because he didn't follow the rules that i had laid out. he's really pissed, and i really hate it, but i have a feeling that he never had any intention of cleaning up in the first place. it's just the deduction i've come to, after the events that took place afterwards. and i don't really fault him for it, except that he was just on for a free ride and probably would have used me for everything i was worth, had i anything of any worth.

and he's one of those ones that pledges his undying loyalty to you, NO MATTER WHAT. but the conditions were apparently, "unless you kick me out, and i'm in complete denial of what you're accusing me for." i hate when people do things that they KNOW are wrong, and then they cop a friggin attitude when they get caught. that's all he kept saying is, "this is so fucked up."

sure. whatever you say.

i hate it, too, because he has potential and talent, and somewhere in there is a decent person, and now it's all going to be wasted. and i assure you, it WILL be wasted. oh well.

this has kind of changed my perspective on helping people, though. it's been a real experience, that i'd like to never repeat. i still have two other guys staying with me, but they're doing fine - in fact, they both just got really great new jobs with benefits and all that, so i'm really proud of them. i just usually invest a lot emtionally in helping people, and i think that's my problem. so if i ever help anyone, i guess it's only going to be people that i already love, because i can't get involved without caring. back to my family & true friends - these people love me, no matter how perfectly insane i get.

still hoping to join the peace corps and get as far away from american society as possible. i know there are problems everywhere, but this will be an adventure to me. i think people who don't live in america have way more appreciation for human existence. we're so sheltered & overfed & self-righteous & gross, we have no idea how really lucky we are.

ok, i have to go - i'm at heather's, and she just came down to talk to me. hope everyone's doing well. i'll try to post more often, but i really have been in my own world of misery & suffering. i know it's not as bad as it could be, but it sure is bad enough.

and lemme tell you one thing - fuck karma. no matter what "he" says, i didn't do ANYTHING to do this. apparently, i'm paying for things that OTHER people are doing, which i wouldn't doubt.


oh yeah - check your buttcracks.