Boogie shoes

It's the closing weekend at PI, so we all went out there last night while it was still free. Got out of work too late for the Adventurer's Club, but oh well. It's funny: the other time I went to PI I was dolled up and tanked up and ready to rumble, and it was... meh. Last night I looked frumpy in work clothes, had awful hair, wasn't really into drinking, and it was alright. Had a really nice time. Got home waaaaaaaaay late, and I hafta work soon, but hey, I got some sleep, the weather is gorgeous, and today is my Friday. It's all good.

I smell funny!

I just finished starting colortesting and dyeing my skirt fabric for Halloween. It's a three step process- I've done the first part, so my house now reeks of stewed tea and various Rit dyes, the bathroom is swathed in enough Glad bags for a body disposal, and my fingernails look like a zombie movie, but I can't clean up 'til the fabric is dry enough to take off the shower rod. And I hafta do this twice more, once with a stamp and once with sponge-and-fingerpainting. It's really fun stuff, especially since it's the first time I've wanted to do anything Lovett-oriented in two weeks, even with all the materials at hand and loads of work left to finish.

I love the Klonopin, the effects are amazing, but I'm praying so hard that this bloodwork will find a concrete reason I've had to deal with these periodic difficulties for so many years. Bonking into a car windshield and coming from a weird clan (sorry, Mommy, a one-really-weird-and-one-semi-weird-sided clan?) shouldn't be enough to produce... this. Hm. Then again, maybe it should. I don't want to do the shrink thing, I don't want to be on permadrugs, I just want to be normal. Not super-happy-chipper, just... not crazy. I'd like to keep Not Getting Fired for at least a little longer- even with better car insurance, the Tardis isn't free!

How do you spell relief?

Klonopin is amazing, y'all! I know benzos aren't for long term use, but I am blown away at how much one measly dose helped. I got thru my short night at work with no problems. Yesterday I was shaking like a dog and trying not to cry or barf if someone asked me how much a one day ticket costs, today I was perfectly okay. That is one good thing about years of scary-brain episodes: the lows are so, so horrible that when you actually feel normal again it's a red letter day. Tell ya what, I may stockpile the rest of those little yellow buggers 'til next time it gets truly ugly, just for the insane niceness of the relief.

Mood altering drugs + fried chicken = fun afternoon?

All's I know is, either these meds had better work or the bloodtests find something actually physically wrong that's fixable, cause I can't handle feeling this awful for much longer. Y'all know how I feel about drugs: I want a here's-what's-wrong-and-here's-the-fix-it-takes-one-dose-and-it's-cheap answer. I can't function in public hardly at all right now, I'm nearly catatonic in private, and I'm physically sick on top of that. This bout showed up and worsened really suddenly and swiftly (I was FINE Labor Day!), and it's a pretty bad one. I mustn't keep missing work, but I can barely function in my job when I'm there, so I'm constantly freaking out, which makes the attacks worse. Dammit, these drugs had better help. Or at least be fun to watch cartoons on. My new doctor isn't too bad (well, I only saw his PA), and they were helpful in checking for a couple of shrinks my insurance will cover (NOT that I want to go that route, but she wants me to 'see someone' in case I'm crazy rather than just offbalance). The lab stuff should be back by Monday, so maybe they'll find something actually wrong, and I can decide what to do from there. It's not a great feeling, waiting to find out if your body needs fixing, or if you're... just an insane person. This is why I prefer drinking.

I used to think that the day would never come

I was outside just now, peeking down at my Autumn-sized neighbor. She's got a Hello Kitty wallet, a folded, dirty dollar, a tin box full of dirt, and a pointy stick. Plus a pudgy friend visiting. I badly want to know what she's digging for- worms? fairy corpses?- but if I made my presence known, it would ruin everything. Being grownup is such CRAP sometimes.

Did you come in for a pie, sir?

Groggy. Just napped out HARD for a bit after working on the Mrs Lovett outfit for a solid eight hours. I don't usually brag on myself, especially before a project is finished, but... it's looking awfully good. Just really labor-intensive to get as close a copy as possible.

As for everything else this week, what to say? Well, if you have to ask....

Keep on rowing away on a distant sea...

So I did something I don't do about a week ago. I refused to acknowledge an apology. I'm sorry, but it was crappy- a buddy called it "doin' the Jesse Jackson,"- you know, when a politico apologizes "if I offended anyone" instead of admitting what they did. I feel rude, but I just couldn't deal with replying. I wouldn't know where to begin. Fudge it.

Freaky happenins with my beloved tardis tonight- stopped at the gas station after work, and it wouldn't crank back up for 15 minutes. Battery-opped stuff was comin' on fine, no scary alternator clickies, it just... didn't go. Gonna drive it around for a while this weekend in case the 1.5 mile run to work is too little for the batt to properly recharge, and of course I've got the Roadside boys on speed dial.

On a happier note, it's rolling up on Halloween again! Sure, we're 2 months out, but that's only for you lazy peeps don't sew yer own costumes. I'm gonna be Mrs Lovett- I know, lotsa emu's will probly do it, too, but I've got OCD-level attention to detail and a good figure for corsets in my favor.

Feelin' stabby

Just read a post over on Jezebel about this nonsense at the federal Dept of Health and Human Services re: last month's leaked memo and the follow-up comments. The gist is, the Bushies wanna make it a federally-protected right for medical practitioners to refuse to give contraception if it goes against their moral or religious beliefs. Okay, if you don't want to do your job, you should QUIT, or GET FIRED. That's all there is to it. My cooter = my business, especially now, in self-defence against a gubmint that sees all cycle-havin' women as "potentially pregnant." In my book, the 6 billion+ already-born-and-walkin'-around-on-our-increasingly-resource-drained-planet take precedence over all those "potential" unborn peeps. If we have the ability to control the population- thereby saving resources for unborn future generations- didn't that ability come from God? The single most important religious belief I have is this: you can have any opinion you want, but don't try to force anyone else to agree. They have their own ideas, so butt out. I gotta go- need to re-register to vote RIGHT NOW.

I can haz ego boosties?

So today was a "Damn, I look pretty good!" day. My grey britches are finally loosey-goosey, my cheekbones looked sharp, all I needed was some eyeliner and a lipgloss, and... it all worked. No credit to me, it's all in the genes (Happy Birthday, Mommy!).

And then I got propositioned, which is always nice. I freaking LOVE getting asked out properly by a man with sense. Shoot, I don't even have an opinion on the fella in question, but I'm happy to have met a second man in Orlando (in over a YEAR) with some skill in dealing with us hoochies. And, like I said, just being asked is nice, just cuz.

And the horse you rode in on

I wish you had better vision when you looked at me, wish you could be what I saw, seeing you. Oh well- I'm done with it.

Now THAT was a Batman movie!

WIDE awake. Hyper. Gotsta be at work at 7 am, and I may be going back to the movies for round two afterward. Okay, rewind: worked for a minute this am, swam, napped, bought a sexy plum-colored tank but didn't buy the saffron Calvin Klein dress ($32!) cuz it didn't look quite right. Got four hardbacks for twenty bucks at the bargain bookstore ("Duma Key" for a DOLLAR!), had fish'n'chips at The Cricketers Arms, went to the movie. I was ticked we got a smaller theatre, but it was good- it got hella hot, but not unbearable, and I didn't have to deal with the migraine inducing THX the big 'uns usually crank up. As for "The Dark Knight"...... DAYUM. It's as good as you've heard. THAT was the Batman movie I expected and didn't get with "Batman Begins." It's rilly, rilly good, y'all- complicated, long, and this sibilant, tongue-flickery, mordant Joker...... dude, it's been a while since I heard that much inappropriate laughter from uncomfortable audience members, and that was kinda interesting. I do need to point out that this commercials-before-the-trailers thing has gone all kinds of Ourobouros when they show a tv commercial for "The Dark Knight" in the theatre before playing "The Dark Knight." That's just wrong. The movie's sweet, though- keep an eye out for the two shots of the Joker sans makeup- none of the reviews I've seen have mentioned it yet, and I'm kinda surprised, considering how important the event immediately following seems. You'll see! Ooooh, and the trailer for "Watchmen" is cool, cool, cool. Yeah, I may go again tomorrow.

Debauchery!

Nachos and ice cream and chick movies and gossip blogs, oh, my! It may be dreary outside, but I am doing as much vacationey stuff as possible indoors. Woo-hoo!

Running on empty

This girl is glad to be home. Going out last night with the work peeps was SO much fun, (except for those two horrible examples of modern manhood*), but I'm not nineteen anymore, and desperately need sleep. Gonna have a big chunk of time away from work this week, which is probably good. I'm so drained... sad and tired and emotionally zapped. At least I get to look forward to things maybe changing drastically within a few weeks- I'm ready to stop treading water and find some happy.

* SUNDAY POSTSCRIPT:
Now that I'm caught up on sleep, the two jerks story is actually kinda funny. Basically, you get a coupla drinks into me, and I'm dancin'. Not well, mind you, but very enthusiastically. Add a shot of Patron, and Lord, I get delusions of invincibility. Well. We walk into the first club (no, the second, but ten minutes at the first one hardly counts!), and one minute later this guy I'm calling The Weatherman trolls up. He's shortish-but-cute: brown hair, blue eyes, nice hands, but he's from New Jersey and has the jerky "I'm-all-that-and-you're-lucky-I-let-you-breathe-my-air" attitude a lot of those boys seem to cultivate (Seriously, who is telling these guys that being a complete douchebag is the way to find a sweet, pretty girl who will love, honor, respect, and nurse your grouchy ass when you're 80 and have Alzheimer's? WTF.). He keeps insisting I dance with him, and I won't, cause I'm mostly sober and he's a dick. We leave, go to a coupla other places, have a coupla more drinks, collect a bunch more friends, return a coupla hours later, and... well, The Weatherman wasn't a bad dancer, but I tend to take extreme umbrage when a total stranger tries to...er... check my temperature. So to speak. This is why I only wear skirts maybe twice a year-and it wasn't a very short skirt! So I basically RUN from his skanky ass and take the chance to chat up a cutie I'd spotted. We talk for a good ten minutes, it's going nicely, and his buddy starts pressing him to leave. I ask where they're headed next, and his buddy gives him The Look. Cutie blurts, "I gotta tell ya, I'm married." I said, "Oh. Well, have fun with your friends!" and made a beeline back to my peeps. GAH. This whole dating-in-Orlando scene... I dunno, maybe I'll stick with the bookstores.

Maybe diet pills are a bad idea

I just walked out of the second pair of shorts in two days. Like, stand up, take two steps, and BAM, my booty's in the wind. Funny, but not- thank God I'm off work, huh? My mom said I'd better start doing a tug-everything check before I leave the house. I think she's got a good idea there.

Sigh.

I'm miserably sad right now, but on the "Yay!" front, I bought a new swimsuit today after falling out the bottom of The Fat Tent while exiting the pool. The new one isn't amazing, but it's better!