Pissed. Off.

There are a couple of nice, happy cheerful blog posts coming up. This is not one of them. 

So I had this friend, who turned out not to be such a great friend after all. I first met him on AVEN. I befriended him even though I suspected from the start that he was close minded, because the first post I ever saw from him was asking how a gray-ace (one that is between asexual and sexual) could possibly exist. Now, I can understand his question. It was the way he worded it. It wasn't "how does this work?" It was "You're all wrong. You're either sexual or asexual. There is no middle ground." It was small-minded and hurtful to me as a gray-ace. But I still became friends with him, because I knew from other posts he made later that he needed a friend. 

It turned out to be a huge mistake. I introduced him to Mary, and that was a mistake as well. He turned out to be not that good of a friend. In fact, honestly, he turned out to be a horrible friend. If he needed to talk to someone, we had to immediately drop everything and tend to him. If we went more than a day without starting a conversation with him, or if we were too busy to get back to him when he sent us a message, he accused us of being selfish and not caring about him. If we needed some time to ourselves, suddenly we're "shutting him off." He constantly would tell us that he's giving up, and then delete his Facebook and stop going on AVEN. He'd post a blog post about how no one cared about him, and people would feel bad for him and let him wallow some more. Then a week later, he'd come crawling back, apologizing for being a terrible person and telling us that if we never want to talk to him again, he'd understand. And we'd take him back. Me because I felt guilty. Her because she's a good person and she cared about him. 

But tonight, I am done. 

Ron and I broke up today, and I'm not talking to this "friend" anymore. I am just done. I'm done with people expecting me to do everything for them, and I'm done with being accused of doing wrong just because my internet's acting up again or I'm too depressed to get out of bed. Because you know what? Shit happens, okay? You can't expect everyone to be there for you every second of the day. I'm done wondering if I've lost him for good. I'm done with the emotional rollercoaster. I'm done feeling guilty. 

I understand needing people. Hell, I need Mary so bad sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't hear from her. But what he doesn't seem to understand is that other people have lives and problems too. Friendships are two-way streets. I help you, you help me. It goes both ways. I know not all relationships are fifty/fifty. I've been in a lot that are more like seventy/thirty. But it should never be one hundred/zero. That's not friendship, that's counselling, and that requires payment. So I guess even that's not one hundred/zero. (Math Joke: 100/0 isn't possible anyway, you can't divide by zero). When it comes time for the giver to take, the taker should be understanding and willing to pay back their debts. That's just the way it works. At least in my mind. 

/rant

Song of the Day: "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet" by Fall Out Boy (keeps getting stuck in my head)

Molly

When my mom was just a bit older than me, she got involved with this guy named Bill. He was abusive, physically, emotionally, and sexually. She ended up having two kids with him and giving both up for adoption for fear of what he'd do to them if she brought them home. One was a girl, and one was a boy. My sister, Molly, found us when she was seventeen and I was...eleven? We went up to South Dakota to see her, and then she came down to where we were living at the time to see us. I actually sprained my ankle when we went to see her. I think we have a picture somewhere of me being pushed around the zoo in a stroller >.<

Anyways, we haven't seen her in over five years, and she's currently on a plane to stay with us for a week and a half. I have mixed feelings. On one hand, I am beyond excited. I mean, she's my sister, and I love her, and I haven't seen her in forever. But on the other hand... First off, I am a momma's girl. Actually, no. I just love attention. And I know I'm going to get a lot less while my sister's here. It's understandable. But it seems like I haven't been getting attention from the people I really desire it from lately, and it's going to suck to add my mom to that list. Also, the fact that she's coming is kind of bittersweet, because she's going to leave next weekend. It's hard to look forward to something that's going to end. At least for me. And then my mom's going to be sad, and probably take it out on me, and ugh.

But we'll see. I'm currently trying to focus on just the excitement part.

Yikes. I am 46% Furry.

[x] you meow/bark to get attention (only to people I'm comfortable with)
[x] you find pets toys amusing (OH MY GOD SQUEAKY TOYS ARE THE BEST THING EVER)
[ ] you get hyper by the smell of catnip
[x] you growl/hiss when someone gets too close to your food
[x] you growl/hiss when someone you dislike is too close to you
[ ] you purr/shake your leg when someone shows you affection
[ ] if someone tosses a ball, you chase it and bring it back
Total: 4

[ ] you love to be scratched behind the ear
[x] you love fish/meat (meat.)
[ ] you like to stick your head out through the window of a moving car.
[x] you like when people pet your head
[ ] people can make you stop doing stuff by hitting you on the nose with a newspaper
[x] you think feathers are fun to play with
Total: 7

[x] you sleep a lot during daytime (take ALL the naps)
[x] you enjoy scaring birds (Especially seagulls)
[ ] you lick peoples faces to show you like them
[ ] you bite people if they annoy you (occasionally.)
[ ] you tend to steal food from your friends/family's plate when you have eaten all of yours (I never eat all of mine)
[ ] milk or water is your favorite drink
Total: 9

[ ] you own a collar and you enjoy wearing it (eeeeyup. DEAL WITH IT. -puts on shades.-)
[ ] you own a leash and enjoy wearing it
[ ] you own animal ears/tail/paws or a fursuit
[x] you enjoy long walks in the park
[ ] you meow/bark when you see something you want
Total: 10

[ ] you call your hands and feet "paws"
[x] you tilt your head when you do not understand what someone is talking about
[ ] you run to the door when someone mentions a walk
[x] you really enjoy cuddling
[x] you stretch your body and whimper a bit every morning when you wake up (I would call it whimpering. I would call them noises that you can't tell what the fuck they are.)
[ ] you can wake up and go back to sleep right away after looking around
Total: 12

[x]you have your favorite spot besides your bed where you like to sleep (the floor.)
[ ] you meow or bark very often
[x] you hide when you get scared (mostly it's under my table lD)
[ ] you run to the door to see who it is every time someone comes in to the house
[x] you like to chase flying insects and try to catch them with your bare hand
[ ] you tend to chew on stuff a lot
[ ] you like to do tricks to get a treat
Total: 15

[ ] you own a wearable item/tag with your name on it (not gonna say what.)
[x] you refer to yourself as an animal
[x] your username has something to do with animals
[x] your e-mail has something to do with animals
[x] if you get a bleeding wound, you lick it to make it feel better
[ ] you look for edible stuff often
Total: 19

[x] you often find yourself looking through the window for a long time
[ ] you like to say hi to strangers
[x] you like to be petted when you have done something good
[x] people think you act like a pet
[x] you growl/hiss at stuff you do not like
[ ] you like to eat grass
[ ] if you get wet, you shake to get rid of the water
Total: 23

Final total: 23

Take your score and multiply it by 2
Put your title as "I'm _% Furry"

HEY!

HEY!!!!

Hi!

I just spent my evening learning how to make animations with gimp. I'm really enjoying it. Doing stuff like this 

(lyric from "A Favor House Atlantic" by Coheed and Cambria) takes way too long. I'd like to share the first one I made, but that's a Valentine's Day present for my older sister, so it'll have to wait. But yeah, I've been having a lot of fun. 

Friday night I spent my afternoon with my friend Neil. We had a serious heart-to-heart on I believe Wednesday. He said he'd finally listened to my favorite song and wanted to know if I was okay (it's about a guy begging a girl not to kill herself). Friday we hung out and drove around before our high school's improv show. The show was great. Much funnier than last time. There were a couple times where I was dying. It was just a great night out until George accidentally grabbed my boob. But more on all that later, I have a puppy to play with. 

Friend Feature #1: Selby

It's February. Which means I don't have to blog every day. TAKE THAT!

Anyways, back to the topic at hand. Selby. I've known her since freshman year because she was in Cambridge with me. The only memory I have of her from that year was the Cambridge Secret Santa. One of the guys got her this adorable stuffed penguin that she loved until she realized it sang and danced. She totally freaked, calling it demonic and possessed. I'm pretty sure she made him take it back. I'll have to check :D 

We became friends sometime during sophomore year. I don't remember ever thinking "Now we are friends" like I can with a lot of my friends. The memory that sticks out to me from that year was the Monopoly tournament. Selby and I had AP GoPo together. After the exam, we learned about economics. One day we played Monopoly in groups, and the top five winners played it again the next class while the rest of us were across the hall playing the lemonade stand game on the computers. Selby was in the winners' group, and so were a couple of jerks that make fun of her a lot. The rest of us went in there one by one to vote on the computer for some student government thing. When I went in there, she squealed my name, ran over to me, gave me a hug, buried her head in my shoulder, and cried about how mean they were being to her. I stayed in there with her until my teacher got angry and called me back. Later, someone came back from voting and said "Um, Mr. Freccia? You might want to go in there. Selby's hiding under a desk." I felt so useless because I could see and hear her agony from my seat across the hall, but I couldn't do anything about it. 

This year, we are in advisory together. She really has become my best friend. (When I say this, I'm not counting Mary. She's a given. She's more than my best friend, she's my sister) Honestly, I feel like she's almost exactly like I would be if I had no inhibitions. She dances and sings. She hates stupid people and ugly people and people who do bad things and people who are fake, and she wants to send them all to Antarctica. The only way any of them would be allowed back would be if they sent her Poptarts. We share this stuffed rabbit named BunBun, also known as Usa-chan. 

He's from an anime called Ouran High School Host Club. My mom bought him for me for Christmas sophomore year. Selby kidnapped him a lot last year. This year we decided that he was my child, but her godchild. She gets custody of him during advisory and Chem class. She took him to Spain for a week last fall. 

Selby doodles a lot. Sometimes, if I'm feeling down, she'll give me her doodles. Monday she made me a whole page of doodles because our teacher moved my seat so I'm not right in front of her anymore. I'm not going to post the whole page, but here are some highlights. 

I told her that I was looking at Marlboro College up in Vermont. The next day, she told me she looked there and said it wasn't for her, but VMU was only two hours away from it and it looked awesome. That's the first time someone like her has ever expressed wanting to continue friendship past high school. It was pretty cool. I looked up VMU and now I want to go there to. Last week I said "So I looked at VMU, and-" and she interrupted me by shouting "GO THERE WITH ME!"

Selby highly amuses me. She's so freaking adorable sometimes. I have to say I feel more protective of her than I do anyone else. I would willingly lay down my life to keep her safe and happy. I can talk to her about anything. I've mentioned so much stuff to her in passing that she picks up on and gives just the right amount of attention to. She gives the right amount of sympathy to my mental health issues, and is constantly telling me that I'm strong. We share pretty much the same views on everything. We both feel strongly about the same issues. Advisory was lengthened for about a week and a half a few weeks ago, and the last day of that we sat there for ninety minutes, ranting about social injustices and homophobes and idiots. 

Sample Selby quotes:

• "I'd write my satire on how I should rule the world, but that wouldn't be a satire." 
• "I'm just going to go into some store and replace all the blue powerades with anti-freeze. Because smart people sniff drinks they realize have been opened before taking a sip. That way, I can get rid of all the stupid people."
• "I would name all my pokemon Buttface Magee."
• "My pants are full of cake."
• "Social problems? Selby will fix!"

Yes I'm Still Alive

It just hurts to type. My arm's healing more quickly than usual, though. Perhaps because it's bandaged so I can't interfere with it.

There is a legit blog post coming your way soon. I'm just having difficulty typing for a long period of time, so it'll take a while. I just wanted to let everyone know that I am fine :P Also, shameless plug. I finally started listening to stuff by my friend's band and I really like them even though it's totally not what I usually listen to. Go check them out. "Gougin' Out Them Eyes" is my favorite.

Breaking Down

You're lying on your bed, sobbing, and you don't quite know why. You just know that you can't stop. You can't breathe. You're trying to calm down, or at least quiet down so your mom doesn't come check on you, but you can't control yourself. You shove your knuckles in your mouth to muffle the sound. You bite down. It hurts, but it feels good. All of a sudden, the things on your bed, the stuffies and the pillows and the blankets, all of them are bothering you. You're desperate to get away from them. They can't touch you. You grab them and throw them across the room with a strangled cry, and then you realize that felt good, too. You hysterically grab everything within your reach and throw it at the wall. It feels good in the moment, but it doesn't help. Nothing helps. Your arm hurts from the dog biting it earlier. You start to scratch at it, first impassively, but it quickly develops into a frenzy. Your hand moves up and down so quickly that it becomes a blur. Your arm rapidly turns red, but you don't care. You want it to bleed. You aren't quite sure why. You expect it'll be satisfying. A small part of you wants whatever's in you that's making you snap to just get out, and that part thinks maybe this is the way. You're making noises that you aren't quite sure how to describe. The tears have slowed, at least, and you're breathing enough to keep from passing out. Your brain's moving so fast that you can't keep up with all of the thoughts. By the time one registers, you're onto the next. You want to die. You want to stop. You want someone to be there with you. You want to go back in time. The thoughts come faster and faster and faster and you can't stop them. You want your mom. You want to be left alone. You want someone to physically stop you. You want the cat to go away. You want to be five years old again. You want to hit somebody. And you keep scratching and scratching. 

And then your mom is calling you from downstairs. You hear your name once, twice, three times. It registers, but you aren't sure what you're supposed to do with that fact. Suddenly, you remember you're supposed to respond. You're supposed to go find her and see what she wants. You get up and walk downstairs. You can tell she's about to yell again, but something in your expression stops her. She asks to see where the dog bit you so she can clean/bandage it. You have no choice but to show her. By now, there are tiny purple dots where you've scratched. She remarks that it looks peculiar for a dog bite, and you tell her that you scratched it. "Oh, it's itching?" "No." She gives you a weird look, but doesn't ask. She washes it off and bandages it. She tells you to go put on long sleeves, and then gives you a hug. You compose yourself on your way upstairs, change, and then go back down. Besides the fact that you can't seem to form a coherent sentence, everything is normal. And you are grateful. 

Song of the Day: "What's Up?" by 4 Non Blondes (Selby keeps singing it to me, and I can't get it out of my head)

Happy News (for once)

So I totally completely freaked out last night. I ended up getting two hours of sleep the night before. Ron came over, and we did a lot of cuddling on the couch while watching television. I kept feeling like I had to get away, and I couldn't figure out why. After we took him home (he doesn't have a car), I started thinking maybe we weren't right. Maybe the fight or flight response was my subconscious telling me to quit while I was ahead. And then I started thinking about RTT and the conversation we'd had. I started to think about how much I liked him. In the back of my mind I was still going "he was drunk he was drunk he was drunk," but I couldn't stop thinking about how he makes me feel. I actually talked to him that night. He didn't remember anything, and he said not to pay any attention to his drunken rants. I knew it the whole time, but it was still a blow to hear him say it. I still felt it was unfair to Ron to keep dating him when I had feelings for RTT (whoa, there, almost typed his real name). Mary agreed whole-heartedly. Jake got angry. I flipped out on him and then cried for hours before I eventually fell asleep. 

This morning I woke up and was still feeling pretty lousy. I went to the library like always, and part of me was hoping he wouldn't come. He did, but Joey came at the same time, and I couldn't tell who caused the sudden surge of happiness. And then chemistry class... I sat there, thinking about yesterday. (What else would I think about, chemistry? Pfft, no, the way that man teaches stresses me out. I'd rather doodle and contemplate life and then read the textbook when I get home.) And I came up with some theories. 

That flight response? Jason. Jason and I cuddled on that couch all the time. There have been several times since August when I couldn't move because I was so scared that something would happen because of Jason. I once spent ten minutes outside my bedroom door, afraid to open it. I couldn't remember closing it, and I was terrified I'd open it to find him sitting on my bed. I knew it was totally irrational, but I couldn't get over it. It would make sense that being in a similar situation to the one I was in before things got out of control would scare me. 

I started thinking back to the beginning of the relationships I've had. Every single one of them started with doubt that I could be fully committed while liking someone else as well. The answer has (almost) always been yes. So there's no reason to let the fact that I like RTT ruin something good. 

And it is good. It is so good. He walked me to half of my classes today, and he got along with the library crew, and he came over again today. I didn't get scared once. We had fun. He made me laugh, and he made me feel special. I really, really like this guy. I've been depressed for... oh, I don't even want to try to think back to the beginning of this episode. It's been a long time. But I'm out of it now. I am happy. Really, really happy. I've been nice to my sisters all day and everything (we'll see how long that lasts lol). I can't stop smiling and laughing and dancing in my seat. I feel... triumphant. 

Today's a good day :)

Song of the Day: "Live High" by Jason Mraz (stuck in my head)

Warning: Meltdown and Horrible Language Ahead

Yada yada *filling up space because I don't know how it comes up in the following box when I do a jump break in the very beginning of a post and I don't want people who don't care seeing this because honestly this is not me and not the way I usually write and I don't want it to come out that way*

Breaking Another Promise

So, Mary and I are collaborating on something that needs to be done in less than twenty-five hours. I'll get back to you guys about my new boyfriend tomorrow, promise!

Ugh

Feeling super super sick. Killer migraine that is made worse by looking at screen. I'm no longer single. More info tomorrow, promise. As for now, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Song of the Day: "Lullaby" by Fall Out Boy

A Letter to My Big Sister

Dear Mary:

Sis, I don't exactly what's going on right now in either of our lives. Mine for reasons that I'll get to when your crisis is over. But I know that whatever it is, we'll both pull through it.

I don't know your reasons for the tweet you sent earlier. I wish I did, so I could have some more clarity. Obviously right now I'm just confused, and I don't understand. However, I do trust your judgement. If you think that this is the right choice for you right now, then I encourage you to do it. No matter what happens, I will be there to support you.

It seems that, as usual, we're both going through a rough patch. But you know what? We've done this before. We've been going through them since before we even knew the other existed. And we escaped from them all alive. We may have been a little scarred and a little scared, and we may have gotten wounds that will last us a long time, but we survived. And we will continue to survive. We will continue to survive while yelling battle cries and slaying all sorts of monsters. We can conquer the world together, you and I.

So keep your chin up, sis, and you'll be able to do it. I believe in you. And I love you.
And I hate that your letter to me was so much more powerful. But whatever. You're always better than me anyway :P

Love From,
Your Little Sister <3


Song of the Day: "Battle Cry" by Ludo

So Yeah...

I'm officially declaring myself depressed again. There's no one single factor that triggered it, just a multitude.

There are some good things that have happened recently, though:

• Really happy to have the dog. Just wish that I could enjoy him more.
• Selby. Oh, God, Selby has been brightening my days by a thousand watts. We have extended advisory this week and she's just been hilarious and amazing and supportive and I love her. She made me choke on my Monster today though. As in turning colors and unable to breathe choke because I was just laughing so hard
• I passed Joey in the hallway today and he opened his arms for a hug and I kind of dove at him. I think I may have surprised him a little bit, but he hugged me back hard and it felt great. 
• I've been leaning on Ron a lot the past couple of days, mainly because of how good a listener he is. He knows about one of the bigger issues, and in fact was one of the ones talking me through it. He's been super sweet the past two days. 
• Pop-tarts. 

*IMPORTANT*

INCOMING ANNOUNCEMENT FROM THE HEAD OFFICE AUTHORITIES AKA LEELEE'S BIG SISTER!!!

Hello, people of the blogosphere. I hope you are all doing well. Just thought I'd pop in and let you all know that LeeLee is excused from writing a blog post yesterday for three very important reasons.
1) Yesterday did not exist. It was a figment of your imagination.
2) Even though yesterday did not exist, certain important, significant and otherwise distracting events occurred not-yesterday that detained our beloved LeeLee from writing a blog post. Mainly, she got a puppy. And puppies poop. And poop has to be cleaned up. Just saying.
3) And boys. That's the third reason. Boys are the reason for all life's problems.

Alright, I'll be getting back to my blog now. LeeLee will resume usual, regularly scheduled postings shortly. ^-^

My Life- Ages 6-15

You're seven years old. Your mom's at work, and it's shower night. As soon as your stepfather announces it, you take off running to your room. You know you have ten minutes between now and when the water is manually shut off to grab pajamas, get to the bathroom, undress, and shower. You look around your room and pick up the few things on the floor, knowing that your stepfather will be checking, and if anything's left behind there will be hell to pay. It takes longer than usual, and in your panic you run out of the room and slam the door shut. It's not fun trying to rinse your hair without water. After your shower, you go into your bedroom to see your stepfather waiting on your bed. You look to your left and see the horror that awaits you. The door slamming caused the wall to rattle which caused your bookshelves to rattle which caused seventeen stuffed animals to fall off the shelves. You bid them a silent farewell and prepare for the spanking- one hit for every item on your floor. You don't sit comfortably for three days. 

You're nine years old. You sit on the floor of your sisters' room and hold the youngest in your lap. The two year old is hopping around the room. You ask her to take her shoes off and put them away, but she doesn't listen. 

"Play wiff me, Sissy," you barely understand her say through her pacifier. 

"I'm playing with Krista right now, I'll get to you in a little bit," you say as the baby gurgles up at you. 

"No!" the two year old says. "Play- wiff- me!" She accents each word with a hard kick to your back as you try, but fail, to scoot away. You curse the baby for preventing you from getting up after the first kick, and go tell your mom. 

A week later you're in the doctor's office. Those kicks are now nasty bruises and a kidney infection. All your stepfather has to say is, "You should have gotten out of the way."

You're twelve years old. You come home from school with a math test in your backpack. It was on trigonometric ratios, which you don't quite get yet. You did all the studying you could for the week before the test, and you believe it paid off. The pen at the top of the paper reads "81% B- Good job!" because your teacher knows how much you totally don't understand most of the material that was on the test. Neither of you are worried because you both know that with some more guided repetitions you'll have your "aha!" moment and you'll never forget how to do it. You show your mom and she, too, is proud. Proud enough to hang it on the fridge. You go about your chores, and then get to work on homework. 

Your stepfather comes home from work and goes into the office. On the way, he passes the refrigerator, and sees the test. You hear him call your name in what seems to be a calm tone as he takes the test off the fridge. He walks outside, and you follow. 

"You want to get into the Cambridge Program, right?" he says, referring to the accelerated program at one of the local high schools. You nod, somewhat knowing where he's going with this and silently praying that you're wrong. "Do you think this kind of grade is going to cut it?"

"It's a B," you say, trying to keep the defensiveness out of your tone, because you know he'll pounce on it. 

"B minus. That's not a B. You passed this by the skin of your teeth."

"Anything higher than an F is considered passing."

"Not by my standards, and not by Cambridge's. They don't want B minus students, they want A plus students. They're never going to accept you with grades like these. You'll end up going to Glasgow instead. You pull grades like these in their advanced programs and you're going to drop to the bottom of the barrel so fast you won't know what hit you. You'll be in classes with people who don't know two plus two is four. And then you'll never get into college. Is that what you want?"

You say no, but he doesn't listen. He continues to paint you a horrible future while you silently listen. He berates you for not coming to him for help while you wordless recall going to him and being called an idiot. Eventually he has you in tears of more frustration than sadness, and that's when he finally stops. 

"You know I'll still love you, even if you do become a homeless idiot, right?" he asks, as if that makes things better. You nod and follow him inside. 

You're fifteen years old. Your math teacher has pulled you out of class the day after a parent-teacher conference, and she asks the question that you've been waiting for an adult to ask for you the past nine years. "Is he abusing you?" Your eyes flood with tears as you nod yes. 

Song of the Day- "Mean" by Taylor Swift

To An Old Friend

Well, what do you know. You-know-who is talking to me again. Such a mix of emotions from me. I desperately want to paint, but my paints have disappeared. Gimp is the next best thing, I guess. It's not the same, but I can get my thoughts out. It's funny how it's easier to properly express myself this way sometimes. Maybe it's because the arrangement and size and stuff of words can show what just words can't. 

Song of the Day- "Unwell" by Matchbox 20

Writer's Block

But not a total creative block, thankfully. This is what I did instead of writing.

Yep. Freaking Out Now.

Ugh. I feel like crap. I have all day. Been mostly sleeping.

So you may remember that I went to the doctor's last week and he ordered an upper GI. Tonight I suddenly got the urge to look up what exactly happens during an upper GI. Upon searching, I found two different types of tests: an upper GI series and an upper GI endoscopy. They're both pretty much used for the same thing. The only difference is that an upper GI endoscopy is safer for small children (less radiation, I guess), is more thorough, and can actually do something about the problem instead of just identifying it. So I decided to read the descriptions of both procedures on WebMD.

An upper GI series is pretty much just x-rays. You have to drink barium (which, let me tell you, is freaking disgusting), but that's pretty much the worst of it. And at least you only have to take sips of it, and it'll add up to one cup of the stuff by the time you're done. I had to drink it for some other test a couple of summers ago, and it was worse then. I had to drink an entire quart of it, half the night before and half the morning of. I couldn't eat or drink anything or even brush my teeth for the twenty-four hours before the test, so I had the taste in my mouth for the longest time. The x-ray table tilts and changes positions, which actually sounds kind of cool. I mean, there's the risk of getting cancer from the radiation, but whatever.

Honestly, I would rather die than have an upper GI endoscopy. You can't eat or drink for the six to eight hours before the test, which is fine. Part of the reasoning, however, is not. I'm okay with the fact that they want to see the results more clearly. I'm not okay with the fact that they don't want you to eat because not eating will reduce- but not eliminate- your chances of vomiting. If you vomit during the test, there's a good chance whatever's in your stomach will end up in your lungs.

So you go into the lab or whatever, probably hungry and thirsty, as well as paranoid that you'll vomit, which doesn't help someone like me who often throws up because of anxiety. You'll probably have a blood test done to make sure that you don't have clotting issues or a low blood count or something, because there's a chance of internal bleeding during the test. Then you'll get an IV which gives you pain meds and a sedative. Okay. Any test that I need pain meds for, I am not okay with.

You'll lie on your side on the table with your head bent forward. A mouth guard will be put on your teeth to protect them from the tube that will be inserted into your mouth and then shoved down your throat, which, to my knowledge, is much softer. If my teeth are in danger from this thing, why am I swallowing it?

Once the start of the tube is in your esophagus, you can't swallow. You're supposed to drool all over the table. Because that's not humiliating.

You'll sit there with this tube inside of you, moving through your digestive system, for anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes. You'll most likely be gagging, nauseous, and in pain. Even with the pain meds.

So yeah. Sounds like a fun time.

Even if it is a series that needs to get done, if a problem is found, they'll probably get a closer look at it with an endoscopy.

Someone kill me please.

I don't even have a song of the day today. Too busy trying not to have a panic attack to pick a song. Sorry to disappoint.

A Random Musing

As per usual, when I got home from school today I was absolutely exhausted. I drank a Monster this morning to keep myself awake, so my brain was too busy for a nap. So I laid down for a couple of hours with my eyes closed and my face in the couch and my back to the world and just let my mind wander. My body got tricked into thinking I'd napped and my brain got some exercise.

I started thinking about how hard it is to communicate sometimes. For example, when I was in middle school, I was obsessed with the song "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield. I told this to my best friend at the time, and she responded "Of course you do, it's about writing." I remember sitting there, trying to figure out how to explain to her how it meant more than that to me. I mean, first off, it's not about writing in the literal sense anyway. It's more like choosing your own path. I loved it, but at the time I totally couldn't put it into words.

There are several other times that I experience communication problems. I have a friend who learned English as a second language, and sometimes he doesn't understand me. It's not like I can translate my thoughts into Spanish, because I don't speak more than the basics, so we kind of come to an impasse. I also noticed I have a hard time putting into words my passion for various books, songs, and movies. Maybe we use the word "love" too much, because it doesn't seem to be enough sometimes anymore.


Song of the Day- "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield

The Fault in Our Stars

No spoilers, of course.

Amazing book. Just overall amazing. I devoured it in one day. I kind of really despise John Green right now, though. That (plot twist thingy) wasn't supposed to happen. I laughed really hard at some parts, but I was crying so hard at page 260 that I had to stop and take a walk outside to calm down because I couldn't even read the words.

I'll edit this with a picture of my J-scribble tomorrow :D

Song of the Day- "Looking for Alaska" by Hank Green