Today I (Still) Hate: My broken piece of shit body.
Today I love: Bunny, who I can hug on the toilet when I'm scared to shit.
At 5:30 this morning I found myself up to my belly in a tub of warm water holding my exceptionally large skull & crossbones cup of black tea and balancing a book on my knees at the same time.
Shortly before this I was sitting on the toilet for the second or third time Waiting to Shit, a basic bodily function that has become a disgustingly cruel and frightening game. My arms were crossed over my stuffed rabbit, holding him close to my chest while I took deep breaths and tried to visualize pooping "smoothly and naturally" as I had been instructed. For once in my life I have found a situation in which visualization (sometimes) has an actual effect on whatever is going on. Unfortunately, as I discovered yesterday, when the poop hits the pain spot and the pain starts to scream no amount of picturing a shit sliding out of my ass painlessly is actually going to make the shit slide out of my ass painlessly. Hence, the stuffed animal.
About that time I realized I had left my morning cup of tea in my room where it was now either a pleasantly drinkable temperature or unappealingly lukewarm. I decided to cut all attempts at shitting short (I did manage some but still with bleeding) and raced to my room to fetch the tea while I waited for the warm water coming out of the bath tap to realize it is supposed to be warm water (which can take anywhere from one to infinite minutes). I returned with said cup of tea and placed it on the floor near where I would be sitting repeating to myself that I had better not knock that over, I had better not knock that over. I didn't--and was quite proud of myself--and this was about when I plunked my butt in the tub of too hot water (I can never get a consistent or appropriate temperature due to my stupidly cold limbs) and finally got to enjoy my morning cup of tea with a sinking heart while Bunny looked on with that happy look he always wears on his face on when I feel like killing myself.
As I sipped my tea and read my crappy book (any book so long as it is not my story) I tried very hard not to think about the rest of the day as my mornings have become the best part of them.
Because I have some things(s) to say.
28.12.15
1.12.15
Sitz Bath Adventure
I tried a sitz bath today, a sort of last ditch effort after getting some really bad news from my doctor's office today. For those of you who don't know, a sitz bath is basically a warm bath that you can put epsom salts or essential oils into but I am just opting for the warm water due to my wrecked pelvis.
Anyhoo, because I don't have a bathtub and since I'm really tiny my doctors told me I could use the basin I do my hand washing in instead. So, like the mindless dolt I am I took the tub and, out of habit, filled it up to where I do when I wash my clothes. When I was done with that I realized it was in the shower and I couldn't lift it out and so, with some help from the wall and my legs, I got it over the ledge and onto the towel I had set on the floor. As I went to lower myself into it my brain began screaming a warning at me.
"ERIN! ERIN! ERIN! ERIN!" it offered helpfully.
I ignored it and lowered myself in further. The water rose up to my belly.
"THERE IS FAR TOO MUCH WATER IN THIS TUB."
I let myself drop to the bottom of the tub and water gushed out over the edge.
It's okay, I told myself. I'm on a towel.
My brain sat quietly in the background.
But then it occurred to me that I still had to lean back. I did so and with every millimeter a far greater amount of water than that flowed out. This was about when 6th grade science class--quite literally--came flooding back to me; something involving a fish tank, some water , and a toy boat. After a short time of this I began to feel extremely stupid but I justified my actions by not realizing the amount of mass my barely-there ass has.
"Alright, Brain," I gave in, got out, re-lifted the basin and, with some help from my legs and the wall, I got it on the ledge and dumped some water out.
I repeated this process once more until I was not flooding the bathroom.
And that's it. No great climax I'm afraid (though I did remember to check the water level before I dumped it out so I won't overflow next time). I think there was going to be one but I've forgotten it as my sister's got me watching The Legend of Chima which is more mind numbing than any amount of side-lying (alone) could ever be. :)
Anyhoo, because I don't have a bathtub and since I'm really tiny my doctors told me I could use the basin I do my hand washing in instead. So, like the mindless dolt I am I took the tub and, out of habit, filled it up to where I do when I wash my clothes. When I was done with that I realized it was in the shower and I couldn't lift it out and so, with some help from the wall and my legs, I got it over the ledge and onto the towel I had set on the floor. As I went to lower myself into it my brain began screaming a warning at me.
"ERIN! ERIN! ERIN! ERIN!" it offered helpfully.
I ignored it and lowered myself in further. The water rose up to my belly.
"THERE IS FAR TOO MUCH WATER IN THIS TUB."
I let myself drop to the bottom of the tub and water gushed out over the edge.
It's okay, I told myself. I'm on a towel.
My brain sat quietly in the background.
But then it occurred to me that I still had to lean back. I did so and with every millimeter a far greater amount of water than that flowed out. This was about when 6th grade science class--quite literally--came flooding back to me; something involving a fish tank, some water , and a toy boat. After a short time of this I began to feel extremely stupid but I justified my actions by not realizing the amount of mass my barely-there ass has.
"Alright, Brain," I gave in, got out, re-lifted the basin and, with some help from my legs and the wall, I got it on the ledge and dumped some water out.
I repeated this process once more until I was not flooding the bathroom.
And that's it. No great climax I'm afraid (though I did remember to check the water level before I dumped it out so I won't overflow next time). I think there was going to be one but I've forgotten it as my sister's got me watching The Legend of Chima which is more mind numbing than any amount of side-lying (alone) could ever be. :)
4.11.15
Things that Can Only Be Said...
My sister walked into my room yesterday to find me buried underneath her laptop finishing up some comic work.
"Hey," I said to her, "Could you do me a huge favor and get me that USB? The one in the teacup,"
We both smiled as the weirdness of what I'd just said soaked in.
"Things that can only be said in my room."
She looked around for the USB but didn't spot it.
"The one with the horse in it," I added helpfully.
"It's in the teacup with the horse in it," she laughed. "Things that can only be said in your room."
"Hey," I said to her, "Could you do me a huge favor and get me that USB? The one in the teacup,"
We both smiled as the weirdness of what I'd just said soaked in.
"Things that can only be said in my room."
She looked around for the USB but didn't spot it.
"The one with the horse in it," I added helpfully.
"It's in the teacup with the horse in it," she laughed. "Things that can only be said in your room."
19.10.15
A Rude Awakening
Today I Hate: Panic attacks. Why? T_T
Today I Love: Being able to go for walks again, tea, Gatorade, and being able to work on my comic once more. Why? Panic attacks.
This morning I found myself scribbling away in my journal while on the toilet after a bout of ass-ripping diarrhea caused by one of the worst panic attacks I've had in a while. I've been really stressed and have been having mild attacks lately and while something happened this morning that I knew would turn my stomach I was not prepared for said ass-ripping and my body trembling so much I couldn't move among other fun things. Managed to eat some of breakfast but it was an attack worthy of an anti-anxiety which I took. Lunch went down better and I am thanking god for gatorade.
Feeling better now but I think I speak for both myself and my hemorrhoids when I say fuck this shit.
Today I Love: Being able to go for walks again, tea, Gatorade, and being able to work on my comic once more. Why? Panic attacks.
This morning I found myself scribbling away in my journal while on the toilet after a bout of ass-ripping diarrhea caused by one of the worst panic attacks I've had in a while. I've been really stressed and have been having mild attacks lately and while something happened this morning that I knew would turn my stomach I was not prepared for said ass-ripping and my body trembling so much I couldn't move among other fun things. Managed to eat some of breakfast but it was an attack worthy of an anti-anxiety which I took. Lunch went down better and I am thanking god for gatorade.
Feeling better now but I think I speak for both myself and my hemorrhoids when I say fuck this shit.
9.10.15
Jumping Off of Bridges
Today I Hate: Most everything in my life.
Today I Love: The people I work with, who care about me (ironically).
People don't change. They have the ability to but when given the choice they most likely will not or will become even shittier than they were before. That has been my experience. I desperately want to find people who want to be better, who inspire me, but this is very difficult when everyone is busy jumping off bridges because their friends are doing it.
On a related note, I have a question that won't get out of my head:
In not changing you have shown me that not only did you not care about me but that nothing I said to you mattered at all. My caring about you didn't matter.
Does that mean we were never really friends?
Today I Love: The people I work with, who care about me (ironically).
People don't change. They have the ability to but when given the choice they most likely will not or will become even shittier than they were before. That has been my experience. I desperately want to find people who want to be better, who inspire me, but this is very difficult when everyone is busy jumping off bridges because their friends are doing it.
On a related note, I have a question that won't get out of my head:
In not changing you have shown me that not only did you not care about me but that nothing I said to you mattered at all. My caring about you didn't matter.
Does that mean we were never really friends?
21.9.15
Said Too Much
There are a lot of stupid things I come across when looking at Helpful Hints to Improve Your Writing but there is one that has been popping up everywhere lately and it's really getting to me. It is that you are not to use the word "said" as in:
"Blah, blah, blah," said so and so.
At first this made sense to me because I thought they meant what my teacher taught my class in the second grade which was to not always use the word "said" in order to encourage us to both be more creative in our writing and to learn more words (good teacher). But what they actually mean is that you should quite literally never, Ever, EVER say the word "said".
The more books I pick up (and read; some I just pick up and put back down again others I move to the side slightly) I've noticed that a lot of people are following this advice to the point where, as you get further into the book, you can actually feel them struggling to come up with more and more words for how to describe the noises that come out of someone's mouth and this, to me, is bad writing.
It is all very well to exclaim something or mumble something, to ululate, to complain, to blubber, to laugh, to emit, ejaculate, articulate, verbalize, relate, retaliate, bellow, tell, utter, shout, wail, howl, yell, moan and groan, and scream and screech and whoop and shriek and cry
But
Sometimes people are just Saying Things and I think that needs to be Said.
"Blah, blah, blah," said so and so.
At first this made sense to me because I thought they meant what my teacher taught my class in the second grade which was to not always use the word "said" in order to encourage us to both be more creative in our writing and to learn more words (good teacher). But what they actually mean is that you should quite literally never, Ever, EVER say the word "said".
The more books I pick up (and read; some I just pick up and put back down again others I move to the side slightly) I've noticed that a lot of people are following this advice to the point where, as you get further into the book, you can actually feel them struggling to come up with more and more words for how to describe the noises that come out of someone's mouth and this, to me, is bad writing.
It is all very well to exclaim something or mumble something, to ululate, to complain, to blubber, to laugh, to emit, ejaculate, articulate, verbalize, relate, retaliate, bellow, tell, utter, shout, wail, howl, yell, moan and groan, and scream and screech and whoop and shriek and cry
But
Sometimes people are just Saying Things and I think that needs to be Said.
20.9.15
12.9.15
On Men's Fashion and Dicks
I was sitting here in the library about twenty minutes ago in front of a
different computer screen wanting to write something but having nothing
I wanted to write a post about. Then this happened:
I was waltzing through the store (well, walking really but let's make it more interesting than it is) when I stopped to look at a magazine. Not being a fan of women's fashion--as it mainly consists of wearing nothing at all--it was a men's fashion magazine I picked up. I flipped through it to see if there was anything inspiring I could base an outfit or costume off of. There most certainly was and I decided to purchase it with some money a friend had given me recently. When I got to the register there was the same cashier that had been there earlier today when I went with my sister.
"Twice in one day!" the cashier exclaimed. "Not that I'm counting," she added with a wink.
"Yup," I said.
She rang up the magazine and then "euch"ed. "I think it's so arrogant of him to say that." She pointed to the cover of the magazine where there was a quote from the featured article saying something like, "I think I'm better looking than most of the public thinks I am."
I thought about this for a moment.
"Well," I said, "I suppose that depends on the public's opinion of how you look."
She laughed. "I suppose that's true." Then, "What's he in? Is he an actor?"
"I don't really know," I replied. "I just like men's fashion."
She let out a hearty laugh with an honest smile, this time because what I said had amused her because it was true and she knew it. This pleased me because it's always nice when someone believes that and doesn't think it's code for "I'm buying this magazine to wank-off to hot guys." And sometimes, I like to amuse people, also.
So here I am in the library, twice in one day. At least this time I have something to write about even if I am the only person who will smile upon reading it. That's okay with me.
Because I'm a far more interesting person than most of the public thinks I am. ;)
I was waltzing through the store (well, walking really but let's make it more interesting than it is) when I stopped to look at a magazine. Not being a fan of women's fashion--as it mainly consists of wearing nothing at all--it was a men's fashion magazine I picked up. I flipped through it to see if there was anything inspiring I could base an outfit or costume off of. There most certainly was and I decided to purchase it with some money a friend had given me recently. When I got to the register there was the same cashier that had been there earlier today when I went with my sister.
"Twice in one day!" the cashier exclaimed. "Not that I'm counting," she added with a wink.
"Yup," I said.
She rang up the magazine and then "euch"ed. "I think it's so arrogant of him to say that." She pointed to the cover of the magazine where there was a quote from the featured article saying something like, "I think I'm better looking than most of the public thinks I am."
I thought about this for a moment.
"Well," I said, "I suppose that depends on the public's opinion of how you look."
She laughed. "I suppose that's true." Then, "What's he in? Is he an actor?"
"I don't really know," I replied. "I just like men's fashion."
She let out a hearty laugh with an honest smile, this time because what I said had amused her because it was true and she knew it. This pleased me because it's always nice when someone believes that and doesn't think it's code for "I'm buying this magazine to wank-off to hot guys." And sometimes, I like to amuse people, also.
So here I am in the library, twice in one day. At least this time I have something to write about even if I am the only person who will smile upon reading it. That's okay with me.
Because I'm a far more interesting person than most of the public thinks I am. ;)
5.9.15
Update
Today I Hate: Feelings. Why? They suck.
Today I Love: My friend. Why? I'm at his house instead of mine.
So wow, I haven't been here on the internet world in a while. There are two main reasons for this (aside from hating people but that's always a reason) and I will discuss them briefly now.
I am writing this on my sister's lappy at my friend's house because I still do not have internet at my house and have only been able to use it at the library which I have not been able to get to because of pain. I still don't have internet because The Incompetent Boob has been trying to sabotage the lives of both myself and my sister, I guess because he doesn't have one himself. The Boob is now claiming that it's not working due to "memory problems" with the last password and if you know anything at all about computers--or even if you don't--this is laughable bullshit. Our computer friend is face palming and my sister and I are doing likewise.
Pain. Pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain.
This is something I used to avoid writing about and talking about (before it became my life) because everyone is on a massive ego trip and if you voice anything at all about your pain or your abuse or your shitty life you'll be labelled a pussy and immediately be subjected to a verbal ego wank-off that usually consists of them giving you an extremely unhelpful example of how easily your problems are solved and then you'll get to hear about all of their problems, 90% of which they have brought on themselves and 89% of which involve their insane spouse which they absolutely have not brought on them self, that's what you're doing.
But I digress (sort of). I have been bedridden for most of the last month as my breasts decided to have another especially bad flareup. Not, thankfully, as bad as the one last December but bad enough to make my life Fucking Hell. Since I had to lie in bed all day my spine went out horribly (C1 forward this time) and instead of getting migraines it felt like my head was going to explode 24/7. My computer friend's dad was able to give me a ride to the chiropractor (thank god) as my usual ride's car is broken. I also had one of the worst periods I've had since starting the Vitex (a.k.a. chasteberry) which I am going to blame on the emotional train wreck of the preceding two and a half weeks.
My breast flareup has gone down a bit, thankfully, but they are still giving me hell if I do too much of anything at all (except lying down which ruins my spine). I got the news that any kind of imaging to--maybe--find out what the hell is going on is out of the question due to the pain which was a kick to the nuts. Might talk about that later but might not. My breast issues are something I don't mind filling someone in on but as this is the internet I have some reservations about talking openly about my breasts for reasons I feel really don't need to be named.
Right now, I'm just trying to get my stamina up enough to be able to get out for a walk daily and be able to do all my stretches at least once a day. Being able to eat at least two proper meals a day would be ideal but all the scrubbing and stirring, etc. exhausts me and aggravates my breasts too much to do regularly. Due to this I've lost weight which is bad because I don't have weight to lose.
That said, I have been writing some but nothing I wish to share with anyone. It's been bad. Things have been really fucking bad. I'm trying to work in some comic-making time as I've got the outline for a few written out and am absolutely, positively itching to get back to work on that. So those are my goals right now.
Yesterday I walked four miles to the grocery store to get oatmeal and fake hotdogs. I sat in the deli area where I read and picked at the zits on my forehead for an hour.
That was the most relaxed I have been in over a month.
-Erin
Today I Love: My friend. Why? I'm at his house instead of mine.
So wow, I haven't been here on the internet world in a while. There are two main reasons for this (aside from hating people but that's always a reason) and I will discuss them briefly now.
I am writing this on my sister's lappy at my friend's house because I still do not have internet at my house and have only been able to use it at the library which I have not been able to get to because of pain. I still don't have internet because The Incompetent Boob has been trying to sabotage the lives of both myself and my sister, I guess because he doesn't have one himself. The Boob is now claiming that it's not working due to "memory problems" with the last password and if you know anything at all about computers--or even if you don't--this is laughable bullshit. Our computer friend is face palming and my sister and I are doing likewise.
Pain. Pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain.
This is something I used to avoid writing about and talking about (before it became my life) because everyone is on a massive ego trip and if you voice anything at all about your pain or your abuse or your shitty life you'll be labelled a pussy and immediately be subjected to a verbal ego wank-off that usually consists of them giving you an extremely unhelpful example of how easily your problems are solved and then you'll get to hear about all of their problems, 90% of which they have brought on themselves and 89% of which involve their insane spouse which they absolutely have not brought on them self, that's what you're doing.
But I digress (sort of). I have been bedridden for most of the last month as my breasts decided to have another especially bad flareup. Not, thankfully, as bad as the one last December but bad enough to make my life Fucking Hell. Since I had to lie in bed all day my spine went out horribly (C1 forward this time) and instead of getting migraines it felt like my head was going to explode 24/7. My computer friend's dad was able to give me a ride to the chiropractor (thank god) as my usual ride's car is broken. I also had one of the worst periods I've had since starting the Vitex (a.k.a. chasteberry) which I am going to blame on the emotional train wreck of the preceding two and a half weeks.
My breast flareup has gone down a bit, thankfully, but they are still giving me hell if I do too much of anything at all (except lying down which ruins my spine). I got the news that any kind of imaging to--maybe--find out what the hell is going on is out of the question due to the pain which was a kick to the nuts. Might talk about that later but might not. My breast issues are something I don't mind filling someone in on but as this is the internet I have some reservations about talking openly about my breasts for reasons I feel really don't need to be named.
Right now, I'm just trying to get my stamina up enough to be able to get out for a walk daily and be able to do all my stretches at least once a day. Being able to eat at least two proper meals a day would be ideal but all the scrubbing and stirring, etc. exhausts me and aggravates my breasts too much to do regularly. Due to this I've lost weight which is bad because I don't have weight to lose.
That said, I have been writing some but nothing I wish to share with anyone. It's been bad. Things have been really fucking bad. I'm trying to work in some comic-making time as I've got the outline for a few written out and am absolutely, positively itching to get back to work on that. So those are my goals right now.
Yesterday I walked four miles to the grocery store to get oatmeal and fake hotdogs. I sat in the deli area where I read and picked at the zits on my forehead for an hour.
That was the most relaxed I have been in over a month.
-Erin
17.8.15
Murphy Murphy
Just found out that the second main traffic source for my comic
"Murphy's Law in Motion" is the website for a pub in Norway called
"Murphy's Pub".
Day has been made. :)
Day has been made. :)
14.8.15
11.8.15
Today
On days like today when I wake up in debilitating pain and have to start
my day with multiple medications and drag myself through it all in one
of the shittiest moods ever I always think, "This day started out so
terrible something good has to happen today!"
I know it's stupid but it's what I think.
Of course, nothing ever does.
I know it's stupid but it's what I think.
Of course, nothing ever does.
7.8.15
I'll Write Later.
Today I Hate: My insane family. Why? They're insane.
Today I Love: My therapist and friends. Why? They're not.
I was going to write about this morning and then I sat down at this computer and decided to write it by hand first to adequately get the full effect of the WTF factor across to whoever reads it.
Also, my spine is going out again so I'm pretty dizzy and it's hard to sit up.
Away I go!
For now.
-Erin
Today I Love: My therapist and friends. Why? They're not.
I was going to write about this morning and then I sat down at this computer and decided to write it by hand first to adequately get the full effect of the WTF factor across to whoever reads it.
Also, my spine is going out again so I'm pretty dizzy and it's hard to sit up.
Away I go!
For now.
-Erin
3.8.15
COMIC EVERYONE!!!!!!!
Today I Hate: Everyone who's trying to stop me!
Today I Love: Not letting them do so! (Or trying at least.)
It's done! It's here! Finally! A new post on my comic! Here! If you like it then share it! And if you hate it and think it's shit then share it with everyone and tell them what shit it was!! :D
-Erin
Today I Love: Not letting them do so! (Or trying at least.)
It's done! It's here! Finally! A new post on my comic! Here! If you like it then share it! And if you hate it and think it's shit then share it with everyone and tell them what shit it was!! :D
-Erin
31.7.15
Stripes and Checks
Today I Hate: The Usual. Why? It all still exists.
Today I Love: My sister, books, videogames, food, and comics. Why? Pretty much sums up the rest of my day.
When I was a child I had a strange obsession with clowns. Not real ones, mind you, as I had had a particularly bad experience with a live one that may have resulted in my wetting myself but I don't remember the details. Anyways, the clowns I liked looked more like jesters and my brother and sister had ones that played music when they were younger so I Wanted One. The one I found was from a thrift store; he had a yellow and blue patterned outfit, played music, had ears like a monkey, and only one eye. The eye problem was solved by hot gluing a googly eye on which, while restoring his ability to see properly did nothing to help his somewhat unnerving appearance. I still have the clown/jester to this day and yesterday he played a trick on me.
I was getting ready to go to my usual appointments but all was halted when I couldn't find my second stripey arm warmer. The day before I had taken them out of my bag and set them on the box-cum-table in my room but when I went to retrieve them there was only the one. This annoyed me because I wear them when it's sunny out to keep from burning so I proceeded to take apart my whole room, turning over things that could be turned over, shaking out things that could be shaken out, and looking under things that were to large to turn over and/or shake out. I was running out of time and gave up the search when I remembered I have a pair of lace arm warmers. I snatched one of those on my way out but not before doing a last once over of my room with the same result.
Late last night after I got back I moved a stuffed bear, the aforementioned stuffed clown, and a pillow from my chest where they sit to the box-cum-table. This morning I moved them back to their proper place and after I had done so noticed that tucked behind the stuffed clown's pointed hat was my balled up stripey arm warmer. There was no possible way this could have gotten on him or the chest but I gratefully accepted his find and placed the arm warmer back with its companion. When I turned back to the clown the lacey arm warmer that I had not worn the day before was balled up near his arm. Again, there was no possible way this could have gotten on him as it had been sitting on my stocking chest far below where I had placed him. I decided he was now Fucking With Me but in a goodhearted manner and so smiled at hist jest and placed the arm warmer back in it's proper spot, happy to have them back.
A little later during breakfast I told my sister this story.
"Well," she replied, "That's what clowns do. They fuck with you."
"I know," I said, "It's all part of living with a clown.
This particular clown is one that she has never been fond of and insists he is always watching her. She looked at him and squinted.
"Okay," she said, turning back to me. "But if he starts coming into my room and stealing my stuff, I'm locking my door."
Today I Love: My sister, books, videogames, food, and comics. Why? Pretty much sums up the rest of my day.
When I was a child I had a strange obsession with clowns. Not real ones, mind you, as I had had a particularly bad experience with a live one that may have resulted in my wetting myself but I don't remember the details. Anyways, the clowns I liked looked more like jesters and my brother and sister had ones that played music when they were younger so I Wanted One. The one I found was from a thrift store; he had a yellow and blue patterned outfit, played music, had ears like a monkey, and only one eye. The eye problem was solved by hot gluing a googly eye on which, while restoring his ability to see properly did nothing to help his somewhat unnerving appearance. I still have the clown/jester to this day and yesterday he played a trick on me.
I was getting ready to go to my usual appointments but all was halted when I couldn't find my second stripey arm warmer. The day before I had taken them out of my bag and set them on the box-cum-table in my room but when I went to retrieve them there was only the one. This annoyed me because I wear them when it's sunny out to keep from burning so I proceeded to take apart my whole room, turning over things that could be turned over, shaking out things that could be shaken out, and looking under things that were to large to turn over and/or shake out. I was running out of time and gave up the search when I remembered I have a pair of lace arm warmers. I snatched one of those on my way out but not before doing a last once over of my room with the same result.
Late last night after I got back I moved a stuffed bear, the aforementioned stuffed clown, and a pillow from my chest where they sit to the box-cum-table. This morning I moved them back to their proper place and after I had done so noticed that tucked behind the stuffed clown's pointed hat was my balled up stripey arm warmer. There was no possible way this could have gotten on him or the chest but I gratefully accepted his find and placed the arm warmer back with its companion. When I turned back to the clown the lacey arm warmer that I had not worn the day before was balled up near his arm. Again, there was no possible way this could have gotten on him as it had been sitting on my stocking chest far below where I had placed him. I decided he was now Fucking With Me but in a goodhearted manner and so smiled at hist jest and placed the arm warmer back in it's proper spot, happy to have them back.
A little later during breakfast I told my sister this story.
"Well," she replied, "That's what clowns do. They fuck with you."
"I know," I said, "It's all part of living with a clown.
This particular clown is one that she has never been fond of and insists he is always watching her. She looked at him and squinted.
"Okay," she said, turning back to me. "But if he starts coming into my room and stealing my stuff, I'm locking my door."
28.7.15
In Which I am STILL ENRAGED.
Today I Hate: MY FAMILY.
Today I Love. My doctors.
Am enraged. Still. Still without internet to pay my bills or contact my doctor or POST MY FUCKING COMIC and have found out that it is indeed due to the extremely incompetent, childish boob I am forced to live with being an extremely incompetent, childish boob. I am refusing to write more on this subject currently as I will probably end up throwing this computer monitor (which unlike the one I met yesterday I have NO bond with whatsoever) through the window and this would be bad. Both because I like the library and cannot afford to have either a monitor or a window replaced.
I did get to see one of my amazing doctors today who gave me some new things to try for my breast issues which is good so fingers crossed.
In other news:
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Today I Love. My doctors.
Am enraged. Still. Still without internet to pay my bills or contact my doctor or POST MY FUCKING COMIC and have found out that it is indeed due to the extremely incompetent, childish boob I am forced to live with being an extremely incompetent, childish boob. I am refusing to write more on this subject currently as I will probably end up throwing this computer monitor (which unlike the one I met yesterday I have NO bond with whatsoever) through the window and this would be bad. Both because I like the library and cannot afford to have either a monitor or a window replaced.
I did get to see one of my amazing doctors today who gave me some new things to try for my breast issues which is good so fingers crossed.
In other news:
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
27.7.15
Eleven and One Half
Today I--oh just look at the post I wrote an hour ago.
I've decided to come back on here to babble for the 11 and one half remaining minutes I have left with this computer. I have very mixed emotions about this as I feel we have bonded immensely in the last hour and one quarter and find I am extremely hesitant to make my departure. I have checked all my emails, updated all my currently active blogs, checked bus schedules, written on here and to be perfectly honest, after everything we have been through I feel it knows me better than most people do. This is the kind of bond you simply cannot create with another human being, the kind of connection people spend years searching for and here I have stumbled upon it purely by accident. I have been wondering if I would ever be able to find a friend such as this, one I can trust (more or less) completely and utterly with all my personal information. Yes it's true this particular computer is especially quiet but so am I and who needs words when you have an understanding that runs as deep as the one we have? I must take my leave now but maybe, one day, I will come back to this particular library to this particular computer and we will have a reunion, a celebration of our--
I've decided to come back on here to babble for the 11 and one half remaining minutes I have left with this computer. I have very mixed emotions about this as I feel we have bonded immensely in the last hour and one quarter and find I am extremely hesitant to make my departure. I have checked all my emails, updated all my currently active blogs, checked bus schedules, written on here and to be perfectly honest, after everything we have been through I feel it knows me better than most people do. This is the kind of bond you simply cannot create with another human being, the kind of connection people spend years searching for and here I have stumbled upon it purely by accident. I have been wondering if I would ever be able to find a friend such as this, one I can trust (more or less) completely and utterly with all my personal information. Yes it's true this particular computer is especially quiet but so am I and who needs words when you have an understanding that runs as deep as the one we have? I must take my leave now but maybe, one day, I will come back to this particular library to this particular computer and we will have a reunion, a celebration of our--
In Which I am Enraged.
Today I Hate: My incompetent family. Why? T_T
Today I Love: Libraries and bookstores. Why? I can hide in them for as long as I want.
Well. I finished my comic. Actually I finished it the day I wrote my last post. Unfortunately, due to there still not being internet at my house I cannot post it. I am enraged and in pain.
In other news:
"I AM DEPRESSED AND HAVE A ZIT IN MY EAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Today I Love: Libraries and bookstores. Why? I can hide in them for as long as I want.
Well. I finished my comic. Actually I finished it the day I wrote my last post. Unfortunately, due to there still not being internet at my house I cannot post it. I am enraged and in pain.
In other news:
"I AM DEPRESSED AND HAVE A ZIT IN MY EAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
24.7.15
A Great Pain in the Neck
Today I Hate: My spine. Why? It hates me.
Today I Love: The Rain. Why? I was told earlier by a patron that it is raining outside but as I have not actually left the library since ten I can neither confirm nor deny this.
I haven't been writing on here so much lately and there are three reasons for this:
1. I do not have internet access at my current residence right now and I have no hope of this being solved anytime soon. Also, I have not been able to make it to the library because of ninety freaking degree weather and
2. As I mentioned my spine has been very disagreeable this past week. I went to the chiropractor last week to get myself put back together and about one day and a half later I threw out my neck in my sleep. I don't know what the hell I do to myself in my sleep but whenever something goes out bad it happens when I am in Dream--or rather Nightmare--land. This caused some of the worst non-stop migraines that I have had in about a year, since my neck first started going out on a more-or-less regular basis. I won't go into detail just now but I will say that couldn't function at all and it was Miserable Hell. This being the case I had to go back to the chiropractor this week which was bad because I only get twelve appointments a year but obviously good because I got fixed. Everything that was out was out on the right side which is weird especially because my migraines are usually caused by my C1 and C2 (top two cervical vertebrae) being out on opposite sides; my C1 to the right and C2 to the left but this time they were both right-wingers causing my body to go berserk because this was a pain I was not used to. That was loads of fun.
3. The time I have had with computers I have been using to work on my comic because right now that means far more to me than babbling away to some anonymous people on the interweb. Well, it always means more to me than that but especially now BECAUSE: All I have left to do is one more panel, some editing, and then suffering my sister yelling at me because I'm obsessing over how it looks and "Erin it's fine. Just post it." When I am done with all that I will post the link to it here.
That is all for now anonymous internet people.
-Erin
Today I Love: The Rain. Why? I was told earlier by a patron that it is raining outside but as I have not actually left the library since ten I can neither confirm nor deny this.
I haven't been writing on here so much lately and there are three reasons for this:
1. I do not have internet access at my current residence right now and I have no hope of this being solved anytime soon. Also, I have not been able to make it to the library because of ninety freaking degree weather and
2. As I mentioned my spine has been very disagreeable this past week. I went to the chiropractor last week to get myself put back together and about one day and a half later I threw out my neck in my sleep. I don't know what the hell I do to myself in my sleep but whenever something goes out bad it happens when I am in Dream--or rather Nightmare--land. This caused some of the worst non-stop migraines that I have had in about a year, since my neck first started going out on a more-or-less regular basis. I won't go into detail just now but I will say that couldn't function at all and it was Miserable Hell. This being the case I had to go back to the chiropractor this week which was bad because I only get twelve appointments a year but obviously good because I got fixed. Everything that was out was out on the right side which is weird especially because my migraines are usually caused by my C1 and C2 (top two cervical vertebrae) being out on opposite sides; my C1 to the right and C2 to the left but this time they were both right-wingers causing my body to go berserk because this was a pain I was not used to. That was loads of fun.
3. The time I have had with computers I have been using to work on my comic because right now that means far more to me than babbling away to some anonymous people on the interweb. Well, it always means more to me than that but especially now BECAUSE: All I have left to do is one more panel, some editing, and then suffering my sister yelling at me because I'm obsessing over how it looks and "Erin it's fine. Just post it." When I am done with all that I will post the link to it here.
That is all for now anonymous internet people.
-Erin
21.7.15
21 July
Today I Love: Overcast days and reading. Why? No heat so I can comprehend what I'm reading.
Today I Hate: Today. Why? Birthdays.
I will go into my room where I am surrounded by the things I love. Then I will curl up in my blankets with a stack of books (though sadly lacking tea as my stomach is giving me pains today), maybe get a pizza and then proceed to ignore the world and all who inhabit it and That
Will be my present to myself.
Goodbye.
Today I Hate: Today. Why? Birthdays.
I will go into my room where I am surrounded by the things I love. Then I will curl up in my blankets with a stack of books (though sadly lacking tea as my stomach is giving me pains today), maybe get a pizza and then proceed to ignore the world and all who inhabit it and That
Will be my present to myself.
Goodbye.
20.7.15
Soomething I Need to Get Out
Today I Hate: Pain. Why? Fuck off.
Today I Love: Air conditioning. Why? Not hot.
Yesterday is a day I will write about another day but today is a day I will write about right now.
I awoke to a Belgian draft horse leaping straight at me. Not a real one, mind you, but the large poster of one I have hanging above my bed. A corner of it had come loose and I am now thoroughly convinced that my posters are in cahoots with any airflow in my room and together they are trying to drive me insane.
I will not talk about the next couple of hours as it pertains to yesterday which I still do not want to write about today. Instead I will skip ahead to my early morning constitutional. It started out fine but about three minutes into it my bowels--having refused to empty themselves when I politely asked them to this morning--decided that my walk was the ideal time to do so. This isn't at all unusual; because of the stress I am under constantly when I do something that relaxes me a little--such as going for a walk--it relieves enough tension for my digestive system to remember what it is it was supposed to have been doing this entire time. However, on this particular morning since I didn't actually crap myself I continued walking. I had not been able to leave the house at all the day before and I was going to take advantage of this cool early morning. This walk Meant Something To Me, goddammit, and I was going to Make It Count.
About halfway through my walk after having traversed two mildly steep hills my bowels decided they were very angry with me for not having listened to them earlier. Too late too do anything practical about it (unless you count shitting in a rich neighbor's yard to be practical) I ignored them again. If my bowels wanted to hold it all in for days then they could surely stand to do so a bit longer. I wouldn't normally be so awful to my body but having been cooped up and in pain nothing was going to stop me from getting out. I was Committed.
I kept walking. About this time my hemorrhoids (one of the many benefits of stress and the on-off constipation and diarrhea it causes) got extremely disgruntled and complained:
"What? Really? You're going to make us deal with this shit?"
I promptly told them to fuck off, deal with the hand they've been dealt and pushed onward. Regardless of the pain I was causing myself I had Invested Too Much in this walk and no way was I going to Give Up On It Now.
I did, thankfully, make it back to my house without shitting myself and so reveled in the relief of being able to crap, something I find most people take very much for granted.
After all, It's The Little Things That Count.
(Right?)
That said, I must now say that denying my bowel movements in the very same way/mindset most people use to justify their abusive and self-destructive relationships is most definitely not healthy.
My asshole deserves better than that.
Today I Love: Air conditioning. Why? Not hot.
Yesterday is a day I will write about another day but today is a day I will write about right now.
I awoke to a Belgian draft horse leaping straight at me. Not a real one, mind you, but the large poster of one I have hanging above my bed. A corner of it had come loose and I am now thoroughly convinced that my posters are in cahoots with any airflow in my room and together they are trying to drive me insane.
I will not talk about the next couple of hours as it pertains to yesterday which I still do not want to write about today. Instead I will skip ahead to my early morning constitutional. It started out fine but about three minutes into it my bowels--having refused to empty themselves when I politely asked them to this morning--decided that my walk was the ideal time to do so. This isn't at all unusual; because of the stress I am under constantly when I do something that relaxes me a little--such as going for a walk--it relieves enough tension for my digestive system to remember what it is it was supposed to have been doing this entire time. However, on this particular morning since I didn't actually crap myself I continued walking. I had not been able to leave the house at all the day before and I was going to take advantage of this cool early morning. This walk Meant Something To Me, goddammit, and I was going to Make It Count.
About halfway through my walk after having traversed two mildly steep hills my bowels decided they were very angry with me for not having listened to them earlier. Too late too do anything practical about it (unless you count shitting in a rich neighbor's yard to be practical) I ignored them again. If my bowels wanted to hold it all in for days then they could surely stand to do so a bit longer. I wouldn't normally be so awful to my body but having been cooped up and in pain nothing was going to stop me from getting out. I was Committed.
I kept walking. About this time my hemorrhoids (one of the many benefits of stress and the on-off constipation and diarrhea it causes) got extremely disgruntled and complained:
"What? Really? You're going to make us deal with this shit?"
I promptly told them to fuck off, deal with the hand they've been dealt and pushed onward. Regardless of the pain I was causing myself I had Invested Too Much in this walk and no way was I going to Give Up On It Now.
I did, thankfully, make it back to my house without shitting myself and so reveled in the relief of being able to crap, something I find most people take very much for granted.
After all, It's The Little Things That Count.
(Right?)
That said, I must now say that denying my bowel movements in the very same way/mindset most people use to justify their abusive and self-destructive relationships is most definitely not healthy.
My asshole deserves better than that.
15.7.15
The Sound in the Ceiling
This was supposed to be yesterday's post but I wasn't able to get on so here it is today.
When I was little I loved the movie Mouse Hunt. I enjoyed watching the little critter outsmart those two buttheads but after last night I've gotta say I feel their pain.
Last evening I was reading in my room when I heard this:
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skir
It sounded to me like pebbles or pine cones rolling down the roof but was coming from directly above me not from outside.
Great, I thought. A mouse.
(In all likelihood it was probably a rat but for the sake of the "Mouse Hunt" reference I've already made I will continue to refer to him or her as a mouse.) I didn't worry about it too much since animals don't stay in the house long (lucky them) and figured I was exhausted enough to go to bed sound or no sound.
I was wrong.
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skirtcha
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skir
Whatever, I thought. I'll be asleep soon.
I was not and the next thing I knew I was standing up and slapping on my light. Naked, tired, and a little bit wobbly from my medication kicking in I marched to the corner of my room and snatched up my cane. I returned to my bed, stood up on it, flipped the cane and proceeded to beat the shit out of the ceiling.
This seemed to work some. The sounded quieted and there were greater intervals in between it stopping and starting again. I appreciated this but it was still Fucking Annoying so I did what I should have done in the first place: I snatched my headphones from their perch, slammed them on my head, and blasted music over the unrelenting sound until I finally dropped off.
* * *
The next morning found me lying in bed listening once more to that blasted noise.
Skirtcha-skirtcha
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skuh
By this point I had resigned myself to a life with a noisy all night neighbor and was trying to bring my mind around to some sort of zen-like state but wasn't having much luck.
I sighed, flopping over onto my back and as I did so I heard the noise again at the exact moment I saw one of my posters move slightly.
I lie there staring up at the wall.
Skirtcha-skirtcha, my poster fluttered.
I blinked.
Skirtcha-skuh, it fluttered again.
I blinked again.
I sat up, tipped my fan down, and waited expectantly.
.............................
No noise.
Turns out my "mouse" was actually the breeze from my fan getting behind my posters and loosening them causing them to flutter against the wall and make the scrabbling noise. The slopped angle of my wall tricked me into thinking the sound was coming from the attic.
I flopped back in bed and listened to the blessed silence. I smiled feeling--to my surprise--not a trace of the embarrassment I probably should have been feeling. I think that's because there is so little in my life I have control over that being able to finally solve a problem regardless of how menial brought me more relief than you can possibly know and that, after the past few miserable days, felt fucking good.
-Erin, Mouse Hunter
When I was little I loved the movie Mouse Hunt. I enjoyed watching the little critter outsmart those two buttheads but after last night I've gotta say I feel their pain.
Last evening I was reading in my room when I heard this:
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skir
It sounded to me like pebbles or pine cones rolling down the roof but was coming from directly above me not from outside.
Great, I thought. A mouse.
(In all likelihood it was probably a rat but for the sake of the "Mouse Hunt" reference I've already made I will continue to refer to him or her as a mouse.) I didn't worry about it too much since animals don't stay in the house long (lucky them) and figured I was exhausted enough to go to bed sound or no sound.
I was wrong.
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skirtcha
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skir
Whatever, I thought. I'll be asleep soon.
I was not and the next thing I knew I was standing up and slapping on my light. Naked, tired, and a little bit wobbly from my medication kicking in I marched to the corner of my room and snatched up my cane. I returned to my bed, stood up on it, flipped the cane and proceeded to beat the shit out of the ceiling.
This seemed to work some. The sounded quieted and there were greater intervals in between it stopping and starting again. I appreciated this but it was still Fucking Annoying so I did what I should have done in the first place: I snatched my headphones from their perch, slammed them on my head, and blasted music over the unrelenting sound until I finally dropped off.
* * *
The next morning found me lying in bed listening once more to that blasted noise.
Skirtcha-skirtcha
Skirtcha-skirtcha-skuh
By this point I had resigned myself to a life with a noisy all night neighbor and was trying to bring my mind around to some sort of zen-like state but wasn't having much luck.
I sighed, flopping over onto my back and as I did so I heard the noise again at the exact moment I saw one of my posters move slightly.
I lie there staring up at the wall.
Skirtcha-skirtcha, my poster fluttered.
I blinked.
Skirtcha-skuh, it fluttered again.
I blinked again.
I sat up, tipped my fan down, and waited expectantly.
.............................
No noise.
Turns out my "mouse" was actually the breeze from my fan getting behind my posters and loosening them causing them to flutter against the wall and make the scrabbling noise. The slopped angle of my wall tricked me into thinking the sound was coming from the attic.
I flopped back in bed and listened to the blessed silence. I smiled feeling--to my surprise--not a trace of the embarrassment I probably should have been feeling. I think that's because there is so little in my life I have control over that being able to finally solve a problem regardless of how menial brought me more relief than you can possibly know and that, after the past few miserable days, felt fucking good.
-Erin, Mouse Hunter
10.7.15
Much Ado About Nothing
Today I Hate: Doing nothing. Why? Nothing gets done.
Today I Love: Doing nothing. Why? Nothing gets done.
Sometimes nothing is exactly what you need to be doing.
Don't disturb me because I will be very busy for the rest of the day.
Today I Love: Doing nothing. Why? Nothing gets done.
Sometimes nothing is exactly what you need to be doing.
Don't disturb me because I will be very busy for the rest of the day.
8.7.15
Today I Hate: Everything. Why? I'm in an exceptionally bad mood. And a lot of pain.
Today I Love: Hating. Why: I'm in an exceptionally bad mood. And I can create things from my hate.
Sometimes the answers to life's problems are the simplest ones. Unless it's my life and I'm working on my comic. I should never ever, ever, EVER think when starting a new panel "Oh, this will be an easy one." Not unless I want to spend the next two hours--literally--pulling my hair out and aimlessly scribbling angry pictures of comic-me.
.............
There was something I was going to write about but I am using a library computer right now and the mouse and keys are so appallingly greasy--at least I hope it's grease--that my hands keep sliding off them. This makes it a tiny little bit difficult to type and think anything other than "Oh, god, where is the nearest sink I can wash my hands in?"
So that's it for today then. Unless I want to spend the next 52:36 I have remaining talking about the horrifying nausea that has got me on the verge of puking or the sore throat that has again popped up out of nowhere.
Which I don't.
(End Session)
Today I Love: Hating. Why: I'm in an exceptionally bad mood. And I can create things from my hate.
Sometimes the answers to life's problems are the simplest ones. Unless it's my life and I'm working on my comic. I should never ever, ever, EVER think when starting a new panel "Oh, this will be an easy one." Not unless I want to spend the next two hours--literally--pulling my hair out and aimlessly scribbling angry pictures of comic-me.
.............
There was something I was going to write about but I am using a library computer right now and the mouse and keys are so appallingly greasy--at least I hope it's grease--that my hands keep sliding off them. This makes it a tiny little bit difficult to type and think anything other than "Oh, god, where is the nearest sink I can wash my hands in?"
So that's it for today then. Unless I want to spend the next 52:36 I have remaining talking about the horrifying nausea that has got me on the verge of puking or the sore throat that has again popped up out of nowhere.
Which I don't.
(End Session)
6.7.15
On Menstruation and Clouds
Today I Hate: My Period. Why: Why not?
Today I Love: Clouds. Why: They cover up the stark glaring nudity of the sun causing it to be ten degrees cooler than was originally predicted. God bless the clouds.
Hello everyone! Haven't been on anything internet-wise (except to look at an axe to make sure I was drawing it correctly for my comic) recently on account of life. The day after I wrote my last post that razor blade pain in my bladder got even worse. Imagine one getting stuck horizontal in your urethra and still having to push it out. Then, I think the day after (how many days has it been...?), I decided that doing a two hour butt-whooping ballet workout would be a fantastic idea (at the time my period was still dragging it's ass along) which actually did turn out to be quite a good idea indeed and ended that day by making a pasta dish--the first thing I've been able to make from scratch other than stir fry in I-don't-know-how-long. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Accomplishments.
Yesterday I walked, moved, and functioned exactly like a marionette held by a beginner due to my muscles rebelling against my decision to workout the day before. After spilling my cup of water on myself multiple times, failing at getting through doorways every time, and having to rest my forehead on my sister's knee at one point in order to push myself up from a chair I decided to dedicate the rest of my day to moving as little as possible which worked out splendidly since my period finally decided to start. Less bladder pain the last couple days though so hopefully that was just PMS fucking with me like it does.
Today there are clouds, beautiful, blessed clouds all over the sky as there were yesterday morning/afternoon and dear god it is lovely. Still working on comic and I have to say that Roald Dahl's writing advice to stop exactly when you know what to do next is, I think, the best advice I've come across when it comes to making anything. I cannot wait to get back to it even if I don't know what to do with that one part because I do know what to do with this other part here.
Now I must go. I see a walk to the library in the near future and then the vision gets sort of cluttered with much cramping and bleeding and cursing to god. Hm. Wonder what that's all about.
Tune in some other day for the next installment in my painfully exciting life and more painfully bad puns!
!!!!
-Erin
Today I Love: Clouds. Why: They cover up the stark glaring nudity of the sun causing it to be ten degrees cooler than was originally predicted. God bless the clouds.
Hello everyone! Haven't been on anything internet-wise (except to look at an axe to make sure I was drawing it correctly for my comic) recently on account of life. The day after I wrote my last post that razor blade pain in my bladder got even worse. Imagine one getting stuck horizontal in your urethra and still having to push it out. Then, I think the day after (how many days has it been...?), I decided that doing a two hour butt-whooping ballet workout would be a fantastic idea (at the time my period was still dragging it's ass along) which actually did turn out to be quite a good idea indeed and ended that day by making a pasta dish--the first thing I've been able to make from scratch other than stir fry in I-don't-know-how-long. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Accomplishments.
Yesterday I walked, moved, and functioned exactly like a marionette held by a beginner due to my muscles rebelling against my decision to workout the day before. After spilling my cup of water on myself multiple times, failing at getting through doorways every time, and having to rest my forehead on my sister's knee at one point in order to push myself up from a chair I decided to dedicate the rest of my day to moving as little as possible which worked out splendidly since my period finally decided to start. Less bladder pain the last couple days though so hopefully that was just PMS fucking with me like it does.
Today there are clouds, beautiful, blessed clouds all over the sky as there were yesterday morning/afternoon and dear god it is lovely. Still working on comic and I have to say that Roald Dahl's writing advice to stop exactly when you know what to do next is, I think, the best advice I've come across when it comes to making anything. I cannot wait to get back to it even if I don't know what to do with that one part because I do know what to do with this other part here.
Now I must go. I see a walk to the library in the near future and then the vision gets sort of cluttered with much cramping and bleeding and cursing to god. Hm. Wonder what that's all about.
Tune in some other day for the next installment in my painfully exciting life and more painfully bad puns!
!!!!
-Erin
2.7.15
Today I Hate: My Urinary System. Why? Keep reading.
Today I Love: Stickers. Why? The cover of my "Various Writings" journal is now quite vibrant. :)
I have interstitial cystitis (IC). If you want the generalized medical definition then you can go right on ahead and get a book from the library or open another web browser and research it yourself. I am going to write about what it feels like for me.
Even though tests always come back normal it feels always like I am having a really bad bladder infection, like I have a bladder full of razor blades that I have to then force out of my urethra every twenty minutes on account of not being able to hold my piss. Leaking is a thing that will happen and often when I do pee only a little tiny amount comes out even though it feels like a full bladder. Sometimes just tensing my muscles will cause my urethra to start spasming uncontrollably which feels like electrical shocks all up through my bladder. This will sound weird but it can also feel sort of like it's clogged and I will usually get a feeling like constipation when I try to pee but cannot. Often it feels like pissing acid and the burning WILL NOT go away and nothing will help to relieve it.
This all makes it somewhat difficult to have/make friends. I don't like to scare people off before I've even gotten to know them by telling them about my "private" medical problems but I stopped caring about that when people assumed I was running to the bathroom every twenty minutes or so because I was puking up my food. I also like to explain so whoever they are can understand why it is I need constant access to a bathroom or why it is I suddenly double up in pain. Also, leaking in someone's car is just not an experience anyone wants to have ever.
Today it is especially bad, probably because I am going to start my period and the inflammation gets much worse with PMS. I know this is not the worst thing in the world but I don't care, because I have spent most of yesterday and today curled up in pain and that is fucking miserable. I am writing about it today because it is especially bad right now and I am having trouble thinking of anything else.
This is Erin, signing off to go to the bathroom.
Today I Love: Stickers. Why? The cover of my "Various Writings" journal is now quite vibrant. :)
I have interstitial cystitis (IC). If you want the generalized medical definition then you can go right on ahead and get a book from the library or open another web browser and research it yourself. I am going to write about what it feels like for me.
Even though tests always come back normal it feels always like I am having a really bad bladder infection, like I have a bladder full of razor blades that I have to then force out of my urethra every twenty minutes on account of not being able to hold my piss. Leaking is a thing that will happen and often when I do pee only a little tiny amount comes out even though it feels like a full bladder. Sometimes just tensing my muscles will cause my urethra to start spasming uncontrollably which feels like electrical shocks all up through my bladder. This will sound weird but it can also feel sort of like it's clogged and I will usually get a feeling like constipation when I try to pee but cannot. Often it feels like pissing acid and the burning WILL NOT go away and nothing will help to relieve it.
This all makes it somewhat difficult to have/make friends. I don't like to scare people off before I've even gotten to know them by telling them about my "private" medical problems but I stopped caring about that when people assumed I was running to the bathroom every twenty minutes or so because I was puking up my food. I also like to explain so whoever they are can understand why it is I need constant access to a bathroom or why it is I suddenly double up in pain. Also, leaking in someone's car is just not an experience anyone wants to have ever.
Today it is especially bad, probably because I am going to start my period and the inflammation gets much worse with PMS. I know this is not the worst thing in the world but I don't care, because I have spent most of yesterday and today curled up in pain and that is fucking miserable. I am writing about it today because it is especially bad right now and I am having trouble thinking of anything else.
This is Erin, signing off to go to the bathroom.
29.6.15
24.5.15
On Bath Time & Companionship
Dunking stuffed animals into tubs of water
is generally something I avoid doing but that is exactly what I found myself
doing today.
As I squatted beside the tub full of soapy water I felt the beginnings of a spine-ache setting in and my knees protesting my partial-squatting position. I was doing this because my—arguably—green stuffed rabbit friend, Bunny, was in desperate need of a bath. I stared down at him and he gazed earnestly back up at me through the suds. His eyes and once whiskered nose were the only parts of him visible and the more I looked at him the more pathetic he appeared. Soaking wet he looked a sorry mess, the wet fur around his eyes giving him a pleading expression that began to niggle at me. Rubbing my back I sighed.
"We're getting too old for this."
Being in my twenties people often wonder why it is I am never seen without my stuffed rabbit friend and when asked I usually answer. I’m aware that not many people above the age of four keep the company of stuffed critters in public and bathing him is a day long feat that takes a lot out of both of us. I sat there studying his aging body and couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t be kinder to begin thinking about retiring him.
I picked
up his ear and carefully began to scrub the dirt from it before moving onto the
rest of him, taking note of and obsessing over the worn parts that have become
more prominent after almost seven years of near constant togetherness. When
finished with that I slid my hands beneath him supporting his head like a
newborn’s and lifted his sopping wet now eight pound self out so I could refill
the tub to rinse him. As I did this his bright eyes caught mine and I realized I
couldn’t be more wrong. Bunny may be stuffed but he is one of my greatest
friends and he has plenty of years left in him. I love him and he has given me
so much and asked for nothing but care in return (one of the many benefits
of stuffed friends) and that is not something I want to give up. So while I
cannot say that there will never be a day when I decide to venture out without
Bunny I can say with absolute certainty that today is most definitely
Not
That
Day.
:)
As I squatted beside the tub full of soapy water I felt the beginnings of a spine-ache setting in and my knees protesting my partial-squatting position. I was doing this because my—arguably—green stuffed rabbit friend, Bunny, was in desperate need of a bath. I stared down at him and he gazed earnestly back up at me through the suds. His eyes and once whiskered nose were the only parts of him visible and the more I looked at him the more pathetic he appeared. Soaking wet he looked a sorry mess, the wet fur around his eyes giving him a pleading expression that began to niggle at me. Rubbing my back I sighed.
"We're getting too old for this."
Being in my twenties people often wonder why it is I am never seen without my stuffed rabbit friend and when asked I usually answer. I’m aware that not many people above the age of four keep the company of stuffed critters in public and bathing him is a day long feat that takes a lot out of both of us. I sat there studying his aging body and couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t be kinder to begin thinking about retiring him.
Not
That
Day.
:)
 |
| Bunny after his...second bath, I think. |
20.5.15
 | |
| Photo from last year's summer. |
It's that time again...
Summer.
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