No tumors!! Yay!!
But I gots an *abnormal* ovarian cyst...
haha so JoAnn wins the *guess my illness* pool! Your prize will be forthcoming :)
So get this...I gots a compound ovarian cyst....that's bleeding into itself...??? God I hope its less gruesome than it sounds... The cyst is 2 cm in diameter, right ovary...they are going to see if it corrects itself with time...so THAT means two months from now, ANOTHER transvaginal ultrasound!!! yay...fuck...
I feel like Cartman. Why does everything today have to do with something going into or out of my vagina???
ewww I said the word. Sorry. Me stop.
If the cyst is still there in 2 months??? I dunno. I guess they take it out??
The lump in my lower pelvis is still there. Still too large for the doctor's taste, but she is of the impression that it, too, will go down with time. I have to go back in two months for the ultrasound anyway, so she will follow up then. If its still swollen?? I dunno. I guess they take it out?? LOL I have no idea.
Oh yeah and I have a tipped uterus. Ooops! It musta gotten drunk and fell over backward ;)
Of course she said they can't diagnose or even fix endometriosis without a laproscopy. I am pretty much NOT for opening myself up unless its life threatening...so we went with the *who knows maybe someday when we're in there already we will have a look at that* plan. That works for me.
...BUT NO TUMORS!!! YAY!!!
Friday, June 30, 2006
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Fascinating!
Ultrasounds done. Of course, I was good and blitzed for the tests. Yay for rum shots first thing in the morning. They weren't going to let my husband in the examination room...but ummm I'M THE PATIENT and I have rights, so at my insistence he got to come along...fuckers. Having him there made me feel about 1000 times better.
Overall, no problem at all. Even the *ugly* ultrasound. I don't know why I even get so upset...
Anyway, of course there is nothing to report, they can't tell you what they see. The lady took a bunch of pictures and measurements...and she didn't laugh when I asked if it was a boy or a girl...I guess rum makes you think you're funnier than you are ;)
The only thing I know is that I'm currently about to ovulate...hahah...on my right side. I got to see the giant black-hole looking cyst sac that forms around the egg. In a day or two that bitch will burst open and voila...I will once again not procreate hahah...YAY!!
But thats all I know. Now the week of waiting begins.
Overall, no problem at all. Even the *ugly* ultrasound. I don't know why I even get so upset...
Anyway, of course there is nothing to report, they can't tell you what they see. The lady took a bunch of pictures and measurements...and she didn't laugh when I asked if it was a boy or a girl...I guess rum makes you think you're funnier than you are ;)
The only thing I know is that I'm currently about to ovulate...hahah...on my right side. I got to see the giant black-hole looking cyst sac that forms around the egg. In a day or two that bitch will burst open and voila...I will once again not procreate hahah...YAY!!
But thats all I know. Now the week of waiting begins.
Friday, June 23, 2006
In the Space Between A Blink and a Tear
Pull me out of body don't want it don't want in.
Feeble frail and rotting descending I'm lost in
A structure that's collapsing don't want it cast into
Maker take the body don't want it wants me...
Spending my morning in a low-grade freak out. Not a full panic attack, just a nice even keel freak out...enough to keep the blood flowing fast, but not enough to leave me in a bathroom stall, shaking, rocking and mumbling various incoherencies...
I plan to start the morning off tomorrow with a few shots of rum. They say drink 24 ounces of clear liquid an hour before the tests. There is no further specificiation as to the *clear liquid*, so Bacardi clear qualifies in my mind. I do what I have to in order to get through my existence...don't judge lest you be judged yourself ;) The tests are all ultrasounds anyway, so my level of intoxication will have little bearing on the results.
I've had similar tests done in the past...not the TV ultrasound - my main reason for being drunk - but all kinds of these things before. And the trick is to watch the face of the technician while they are looking at the screen. Obviously, a technician cannot give you any diagnosis, and really, ethically, they shouldn't even tell you shit about what they see or think they see. They just know how to run the equipment, they aren't fully qualified doctors. But they've done a thousand of these things before...and their faces show when they see an anomaly. Especially a gross anomaly - something so obviously wrong that even I would know it if I saw it (and honestly...I look at the screen too and I couldn't tell you shit from a hole in the ground on those things. It all looks like nothing to me.) Also, if they keep saying, "Let me get another picture of this area...just one more. How about another one...just want to be sure..." then you know they see something.
Maybe the trick is NOT to look at their faces. Maybe just shut your eyes, turn away, turn on the ipod loud and try not to look at the screen. Maybe its better to not know....
*sigh*
I'll be ok. A little drunk, but otherwise ok. I know there's something wrong, I'm not sure if I'll like the *what* that turns out to be wrong, but there's not just a whole lot I can do about that now, is there? So I'll just toughen up and take it, and deal with it. After the alcohol wears off ;)
And every time I start to drown in my own little puddle of muck, I am reminded that things could be a whole lot worse....
One of my oldest friends (not age wise, but that too hahaha) and a regular reader and commenter on my blog - Blind Colorado Perv aka Ken - is having his second kidney transplant operation on Tuesday. While I do have his phone number, you can rest assured I won't call, due to my phone phobia... (Dont worry, my husband will call...we are not total cads, only mostly cads) But anyway, he comes by the blog every once in a while, so I'm gonna take my opportunity, if he does come by, to wish him and his sister (his donor) both the best on Tuesday. And a speedy healthy recovery. All that good shit. And I'd also like to say HEY KEN!! How about you don't fuck this kidney up this time??? ;) They work better if you don't keep poking at them with forks... I don't even know what that means, but it gives me a funny little mental image so I'm going with that.
I do miss my good friends...fuck I'd like to go back home to stay...
Well, shit for another day. I have to go to the liquor store to buy some rum now...
Feeble frail and rotting descending I'm lost in
A structure that's collapsing don't want it cast into
Maker take the body don't want it wants me...
Spending my morning in a low-grade freak out. Not a full panic attack, just a nice even keel freak out...enough to keep the blood flowing fast, but not enough to leave me in a bathroom stall, shaking, rocking and mumbling various incoherencies...
I plan to start the morning off tomorrow with a few shots of rum. They say drink 24 ounces of clear liquid an hour before the tests. There is no further specificiation as to the *clear liquid*, so Bacardi clear qualifies in my mind. I do what I have to in order to get through my existence...don't judge lest you be judged yourself ;) The tests are all ultrasounds anyway, so my level of intoxication will have little bearing on the results.
I've had similar tests done in the past...not the TV ultrasound - my main reason for being drunk - but all kinds of these things before. And the trick is to watch the face of the technician while they are looking at the screen. Obviously, a technician cannot give you any diagnosis, and really, ethically, they shouldn't even tell you shit about what they see or think they see. They just know how to run the equipment, they aren't fully qualified doctors. But they've done a thousand of these things before...and their faces show when they see an anomaly. Especially a gross anomaly - something so obviously wrong that even I would know it if I saw it (and honestly...I look at the screen too and I couldn't tell you shit from a hole in the ground on those things. It all looks like nothing to me.) Also, if they keep saying, "Let me get another picture of this area...just one more. How about another one...just want to be sure..." then you know they see something.
Maybe the trick is NOT to look at their faces. Maybe just shut your eyes, turn away, turn on the ipod loud and try not to look at the screen. Maybe its better to not know....
*sigh*
I'll be ok. A little drunk, but otherwise ok. I know there's something wrong, I'm not sure if I'll like the *what* that turns out to be wrong, but there's not just a whole lot I can do about that now, is there? So I'll just toughen up and take it, and deal with it. After the alcohol wears off ;)
And every time I start to drown in my own little puddle of muck, I am reminded that things could be a whole lot worse....
One of my oldest friends (not age wise, but that too hahaha) and a regular reader and commenter on my blog - Blind Colorado Perv aka Ken - is having his second kidney transplant operation on Tuesday. While I do have his phone number, you can rest assured I won't call, due to my phone phobia... (Dont worry, my husband will call...we are not total cads, only mostly cads) But anyway, he comes by the blog every once in a while, so I'm gonna take my opportunity, if he does come by, to wish him and his sister (his donor) both the best on Tuesday. And a speedy healthy recovery. All that good shit. And I'd also like to say HEY KEN!! How about you don't fuck this kidney up this time??? ;) They work better if you don't keep poking at them with forks... I don't even know what that means, but it gives me a funny little mental image so I'm going with that.
I do miss my good friends...fuck I'd like to go back home to stay...
Well, shit for another day. I have to go to the liquor store to buy some rum now...
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Blood Tests and Other Ramblings
I gave up a good three vials full of blood today for all the blood testing my doctor ordered. Thyroid tests, blood counts ~ I always wondered how many platelets I had...hahah...now I will finally know ~ a lipid test...for cholesterol I'm guessing? I have no idea what that has to do with *female* issues, I guess she just wants to know. I keep forgetting I'm 37 years old, I guess I need to be up to date on stuff like my cholesterol level. I'm pretty sure its low as hell, I have NO blood pressure, I'm suprised the blood makes it to my brain, so my heart is obviously not having to pump its ass off to get my blood through clogged arteries. I'm sure I'm just fine there. Well hell, I hope I'm fine there. I shouldn't jinx myself. Christ.
Yeah, I keep forgetting I'm old. When I went in the other day to the doctor's office, they like to ask you all those *history* questions. She asked when my last mammogram was. I was like...uhhh...I've never had a mammogram?? (I mean christ, I'm just a fucking kid). She looked at me, gaped mouth and aghast...and said *You've NEVER had a mammogram??* OH YEAH thats RIGHT, I AM old...I probably should have had one of those by now. Fucking ooops. Ugh.
Hahah and then she said, *we want to get your accurate weight...so we need ummm need you to take off those boots...and ummm...those chains...really....* HAHAHA I was laughing so hard I didn't even notice that I was down to 136 1/2 (YES!!!! FUCKING A YES!!) until like 3 minutes later. I can hear her at dinner that night...*so we had a patient in, 37 years old...yeah...had to have her take of her giant metal and leather ass kicking boots and 4 yards of chains so we could get her accurate weight...*
On rare occasions I actually do enjoy being me. That was one of them ;)
Oh yeah and the other story...and only Moxie, Sugarkitty and a few others will get this one...but its funny nonetheless. When you first come in, they get a copy of your insurance card and driver's license (I think Moxie knows where this is going). I'm sitting in the waiting room...they call my name...I follow the lady to the examination room. And just as we get to the door she turns around and goes *Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I think I got the wrong patient. You're not Cindy Gribble, are you?* I'm like...uh...yeah?? (I mean if its bad to be me at that moment, then call me Annette and let me have a running head start out the door...but at that moment, I guess it was ok...) She asks again - *You're CINDY GRIBBLE?* I'm like YES!!! What? How is this so difficult to accept? She looks at my driver's license picture...then at me...then at the driver's license picture...HAHAHAH... I still don't think she thinks I'm me. She thinks I'm some boot wearing, chain laden imposter...running around pretending to be Cindy Gribble so that I can...what?...reap all the fucking benefits of being Cindy Gribble? Hahahah....riiiiiiiight....
I can guarantee that pretending to be me at this stage of my life is no fucking treat. So there's no need to attempt...or continue...it... I tell you what, if you want to fucking BE ME, come do this transvaginal fucking ultrasound for me Saturday morning. Yeah, get on google and look THAT fucking shit up. Then be glad you're you and move on.
*sigh*
If I can get past Saturday...and survive the week of wondering what sort of heinous ugly cancerous masses are going to show up on these tests (yes I always assume the worst...) and make it to next Friday and she says YAY no cancer...just...I dunno...fibroid tumors?? Cysts?? 25 years of endometriosis growing all over my innards??? Twisted parts (my husband's theory)???...whatever....
If I can get past it and get the good news...well its still not good news, but its nonterminal news...which is good news...I think I am going to quit my job, move away from this shithole, and finally live my life the way I want to. Cuz I'm getting old and time is getting short.
I guess I need to schedule a mammogram, too... hahah... fuck me.
Yeah, I keep forgetting I'm old. When I went in the other day to the doctor's office, they like to ask you all those *history* questions. She asked when my last mammogram was. I was like...uhhh...I've never had a mammogram?? (I mean christ, I'm just a fucking kid). She looked at me, gaped mouth and aghast...and said *You've NEVER had a mammogram??* OH YEAH thats RIGHT, I AM old...I probably should have had one of those by now. Fucking ooops. Ugh.
Hahah and then she said, *we want to get your accurate weight...so we need ummm need you to take off those boots...and ummm...those chains...really....* HAHAHA I was laughing so hard I didn't even notice that I was down to 136 1/2 (YES!!!! FUCKING A YES!!) until like 3 minutes later. I can hear her at dinner that night...*so we had a patient in, 37 years old...yeah...had to have her take of her giant metal and leather ass kicking boots and 4 yards of chains so we could get her accurate weight...*
On rare occasions I actually do enjoy being me. That was one of them ;)
Oh yeah and the other story...and only Moxie, Sugarkitty and a few others will get this one...but its funny nonetheless. When you first come in, they get a copy of your insurance card and driver's license (I think Moxie knows where this is going). I'm sitting in the waiting room...they call my name...I follow the lady to the examination room. And just as we get to the door she turns around and goes *Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I think I got the wrong patient. You're not Cindy Gribble, are you?* I'm like...uh...yeah?? (I mean if its bad to be me at that moment, then call me Annette and let me have a running head start out the door...but at that moment, I guess it was ok...) She asks again - *You're CINDY GRIBBLE?* I'm like YES!!! What? How is this so difficult to accept? She looks at my driver's license picture...then at me...then at the driver's license picture...HAHAHAH... I still don't think she thinks I'm me. She thinks I'm some boot wearing, chain laden imposter...running around pretending to be Cindy Gribble so that I can...what?...reap all the fucking benefits of being Cindy Gribble? Hahahah....riiiiiiiight....
I can guarantee that pretending to be me at this stage of my life is no fucking treat. So there's no need to attempt...or continue...it... I tell you what, if you want to fucking BE ME, come do this transvaginal fucking ultrasound for me Saturday morning. Yeah, get on google and look THAT fucking shit up. Then be glad you're you and move on.
*sigh*
If I can get past Saturday...and survive the week of wondering what sort of heinous ugly cancerous masses are going to show up on these tests (yes I always assume the worst...) and make it to next Friday and she says YAY no cancer...just...I dunno...fibroid tumors?? Cysts?? 25 years of endometriosis growing all over my innards??? Twisted parts (my husband's theory)???...whatever....
If I can get past it and get the good news...well its still not good news, but its nonterminal news...which is good news...I think I am going to quit my job, move away from this shithole, and finally live my life the way I want to. Cuz I'm getting old and time is getting short.
I guess I need to schedule a mammogram, too... hahah... fuck me.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Cryptic Writings on the Wall
I have a lump in my lower abdomen...pelvic region actually. Right side. It is very large and palpable - about the size of a quarter. It seems to me to be an inflamed lymph node - it feels just like one (you have those in your pelvic area too, not just in your neck). I went to the nurse practitioner today in our building and found out that I have no signs of infection, no fever, no sickness of any sort...in fact, I am otherwise about as healthy as a person can be... except for this giant painful lump in my abdomen. The nurse practitioner can't diagnose...they aren't allowed to...but she very strongly suggested I go see my doctor NOW because, without signs of infection, this is a sign of some other very serious problem. So I am home from work now, in a few hours I have an appointment with my doctor.
The only conclusion I can draw is that when women have breast cancer, the lymph nodes in their underarms swell...without sign of infection...because they are trying to fight the cancer.
Of course I'm not a doctor. If I was, I'd probably still be miserable at my job, but making five times as much. But I know this. And this may be TMI for some of you, so if you can't take it, stop reading now. I've had *midmonth* bleeding for about 6 months now. Usually starts a week after my period, brought on by strenuous excercise (who? me?) and lasts as little as a day or up to 4 or 5 days. Ive had it in the past, about 10 years ago...I took birth control for about 6 months to regulate myself, and have been fine until just recently. On two occasions in the past 6 months, I have had extreme pain immediately after sex. Cramps - just like menstrual - to the point where I laid in the bed and moaned in agony for about half an hour. I have difficulty urinating - my joke, that I thought was funny until about an hour ago, was to say that my prostrate was swollen, that's why I couldn't pee (see I'm female, I have no prostrate...haha, huh?) and on several occassions over the past few years I have had pain immediately after urinating - much like menstrual again, lasting about 3 minutes...quite painful and sharp, then subsiding pretty quickly.
I am also infertile for reasons that are unknown to me. Other than the times I have taken birth control to regulate my period, I have not used any form of contraception...and I'm 37 years old...and have had sex a LOT over the last 21 years...and never been pregnant...so...yeah...I'm infertile.
What does all this mean? It doesn't sound too good, does it? I'm thinking not. I'm not looking forward to 3:30 and my appointment...I've already pretty much resigned myself to what they are going to say. They are going to recommend a blood test for cancer, and a pelvic ultrasound for starters...
Maybe even a biopsy...
All I know is that survival rate for ovarian cancer is approx. 50%, and that depends of course on the age and general health of the patient, and the stage of the disease. Overall, that would be a pretty grim diagnosis. Perhaps there is nothing wrong other than some simple endometriosis thats working my system into a frenzy...unfortunately the symptoms I have occur with just about every abnormality in the female reproductive system, and a biopsy is going to be the only way to know for sure....so it could be nothing. It could also be something very terrible.
I'm not afraid of death. Not at all. Its an inevitable fact of life, it is part of nature, therefore it is the right thing to happen, and nothing to be afraid of...because it IS supposed to happen. Just not sure if I'm ready for it to happen just yet. I don't really feel that I've even gotten my life off the ground yet...I think I still have more to offer. Hahah...more is a funny word to use there because I'm not really sure I've actually offered ANYTHING yet...maybe I should just say I think I have something to offer...
At any rate, that's that...
POST VISIT UPDATE: Before my mother reads this and drops dead, I figure I better update. The doctor thinks that gland in my pelvis is probably swollen due to drainage from an ingrown hair I had...you know...from shaving... *ahem* I'd thought that that little problem I had was pretty much healed up, but the doctor thinks its a reaction to that. She put me on cipro and thinks that will solve that problem.
Now for the less than good news. She says there is something very wrong with my plumbing. She thinks cancer is a pretty off chance, but is not ruling anything out. I have to have blood work done this week to rule out anemia and thyroid problems, and I have an ultrasound Saturday morning so they can...well, why sugar coat it...so they can look for *unusual masses*. Then I go back a week from Friday to discuss the test results, where we go from there, and have my pap smear...which by the way is ridiculous that she just didnt do that today, since she did an otherwise full pelvic exam...wtf? Three more seconds down there would have finished that up...guess they want to charge twice. Or maybe I'm cute and she wants me back. Who knows...haha...sorry again to those of you for whom that was too much information. But did you expect otherwise?
At any rate, I feel somewhat better, but still fairly trepidacious about what these tests are going to show.... not one of the world's happier campers...
The only conclusion I can draw is that when women have breast cancer, the lymph nodes in their underarms swell...without sign of infection...because they are trying to fight the cancer.
Of course I'm not a doctor. If I was, I'd probably still be miserable at my job, but making five times as much. But I know this. And this may be TMI for some of you, so if you can't take it, stop reading now. I've had *midmonth* bleeding for about 6 months now. Usually starts a week after my period, brought on by strenuous excercise (who? me?) and lasts as little as a day or up to 4 or 5 days. Ive had it in the past, about 10 years ago...I took birth control for about 6 months to regulate myself, and have been fine until just recently. On two occasions in the past 6 months, I have had extreme pain immediately after sex. Cramps - just like menstrual - to the point where I laid in the bed and moaned in agony for about half an hour. I have difficulty urinating - my joke, that I thought was funny until about an hour ago, was to say that my prostrate was swollen, that's why I couldn't pee (see I'm female, I have no prostrate...haha, huh?) and on several occassions over the past few years I have had pain immediately after urinating - much like menstrual again, lasting about 3 minutes...quite painful and sharp, then subsiding pretty quickly.
I am also infertile for reasons that are unknown to me. Other than the times I have taken birth control to regulate my period, I have not used any form of contraception...and I'm 37 years old...and have had sex a LOT over the last 21 years...and never been pregnant...so...yeah...I'm infertile.
What does all this mean? It doesn't sound too good, does it? I'm thinking not. I'm not looking forward to 3:30 and my appointment...I've already pretty much resigned myself to what they are going to say. They are going to recommend a blood test for cancer, and a pelvic ultrasound for starters...
Maybe even a biopsy...
All I know is that survival rate for ovarian cancer is approx. 50%, and that depends of course on the age and general health of the patient, and the stage of the disease. Overall, that would be a pretty grim diagnosis. Perhaps there is nothing wrong other than some simple endometriosis thats working my system into a frenzy...unfortunately the symptoms I have occur with just about every abnormality in the female reproductive system, and a biopsy is going to be the only way to know for sure....so it could be nothing. It could also be something very terrible.
I'm not afraid of death. Not at all. Its an inevitable fact of life, it is part of nature, therefore it is the right thing to happen, and nothing to be afraid of...because it IS supposed to happen. Just not sure if I'm ready for it to happen just yet. I don't really feel that I've even gotten my life off the ground yet...I think I still have more to offer. Hahah...more is a funny word to use there because I'm not really sure I've actually offered ANYTHING yet...maybe I should just say I think I have something to offer...
At any rate, that's that...
POST VISIT UPDATE: Before my mother reads this and drops dead, I figure I better update. The doctor thinks that gland in my pelvis is probably swollen due to drainage from an ingrown hair I had...you know...from shaving... *ahem* I'd thought that that little problem I had was pretty much healed up, but the doctor thinks its a reaction to that. She put me on cipro and thinks that will solve that problem.
Now for the less than good news. She says there is something very wrong with my plumbing. She thinks cancer is a pretty off chance, but is not ruling anything out. I have to have blood work done this week to rule out anemia and thyroid problems, and I have an ultrasound Saturday morning so they can...well, why sugar coat it...so they can look for *unusual masses*. Then I go back a week from Friday to discuss the test results, where we go from there, and have my pap smear...which by the way is ridiculous that she just didnt do that today, since she did an otherwise full pelvic exam...wtf? Three more seconds down there would have finished that up...guess they want to charge twice. Or maybe I'm cute and she wants me back. Who knows...haha...sorry again to those of you for whom that was too much information. But did you expect otherwise?
At any rate, I feel somewhat better, but still fairly trepidacious about what these tests are going to show.... not one of the world's happier campers...
Thursday, June 08, 2006
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHH...
*gulps in air*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHH...
Why
Cant
I
Be
Sane
?
Motherfuck I hate my brain.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHH...
*gulps in air*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHH...
Why
Cant
I
Be
Sane
?
Motherfuck I hate my brain.
MySpace *rolls eyes*
Sorry. I picked up that eye roll thing from Marci...
I actually wanted to send this off as a special little bulletin from me to the world...but I thought it better to keep my rants here, where I've always kept them. The MySpace account is *supposed* to be business related anyway, and not rant related...although it appears I have no problem with making it *horny little bicurious girl* related...haha...
Rant number one about MySpace: Bulletins! Here is a fact about bulletins that, it would appear, several people don't understand: they only go to the people on your friend list. Nowhere else. Every time you send out a bulletin, no matter how many times you send it, it only goes to this same pool of people. This makes it really, really, and I do mean REALLY unnecessary to repost the same goddamn bulletin ad for a band/event/ebay auction every four minutes of the day. You have a limited audience. The same limited audience. We all read the bulletin the first time. After you send it 4 more times, you have saturated us with the information. Post an informational bulletin once, post it again as a reminder maybe a week later. That's all you have to do. Anyone who is interested will take the appropriate measures, believe me.
I've deleted more friends off my friend list for this reason....seriously...
Rant number two about MySpace: Bulletins! Here is another fact about bulletins that, it would appear, several people don't understand: They go to EVERYONE on your friends list. hahah. Yeah similar to above with an important difference. Why the hell do some people find it important to bulletin personal matters that the vast majority of the people on their friends list don't frankly give a shit about? And not important life events - posting a bulletin about your graduation, for example, is not a problem. Posting a bulletin that you won't be online or otherwise available for a few days, not a problem. Posting a bulletin that you're bored...wtf? Here is a bulletin that I think is so important that everyone on my friends list must know about it: I'm bored. Hooray for you.
Even worse, and the reason I deleted one person in particular from my list - white trash drama games in bulletins. So you're having drama with someone...and of course, when you have drama, you must block this person from your MySpace. Now that's fine, provided you really want the drama to end, but you don't. You then start posting bulletins every five minutes about how this person lied and this person cheated and how you have proof of this and that...and so and so says you said this and that... of course, knowing that a mutual friend is going to forward this information to your drama mate so that the drama can continue... Seriously, I DONT WANT TO BE A PART OF YOUR DRAMA, yet, I am forced to be a part because I am in your friend list, too, and I get to have this poison delivered to my home page. I could certainly not read it...but you know, with a title like JENNIE SMITH IS A BIG LYING SLUT WHORE BITCH on the bulletin...the poison manages to get through with no action on my part.
If you had half a fucking spine, you'd NOT block the person you want to have the drama with...contact them DIRECTLY, and HAVE YOUR FUCKING DRAMA WITH THEM. Keep me out of it.
Rant number three about MySpace: Bulletins! HAHAHAHHA yeah, I have a burr up my ass today. But its my blog so fuck it, I'm going to speak my peace. Let me set this straight for all you morons out there that might not understand this. Tom isn't angry, and he isn't going to delete your profile for not reposting a gay ass bulletin. And despite the many warnings, you don't have repost anything...if youre gonna have bad sex for the next 8 years, or never go on a date again, or get dumped by the girl who likes you...its going to happen regardless of whether or not you reposted a bulletin.
Exception: YOU MUST REPOST ALL ANGRYLITTLEDEADGIRL AUCTION BULLETINS! hahahah
And another stupid bulletin...the *goodbye myspace* /*so called friends* bulletin. Gee...I agree with you all that people are getting fake on myspace. This is a test to see who is really paying attention to me. Repost this bulletin or I will delete you from my friend list.... Please. Just today I saw a mutation of this bulletin, where instead of people getting *fake* on myspace, they are getting *retarded* on myspace...hahahah. Do ya THINK so?
Here's an idea. If you want to post this bulletin, or any of the other ones above...just delete me first. Seriously. I don't fucking care. But do it before you send the bulletin, because I don't want to be bothered with looking at it :)
Blog=good therapy...
I actually wanted to send this off as a special little bulletin from me to the world...but I thought it better to keep my rants here, where I've always kept them. The MySpace account is *supposed* to be business related anyway, and not rant related...although it appears I have no problem with making it *horny little bicurious girl* related...haha...
Rant number one about MySpace: Bulletins! Here is a fact about bulletins that, it would appear, several people don't understand: they only go to the people on your friend list. Nowhere else. Every time you send out a bulletin, no matter how many times you send it, it only goes to this same pool of people. This makes it really, really, and I do mean REALLY unnecessary to repost the same goddamn bulletin ad for a band/event/ebay auction every four minutes of the day. You have a limited audience. The same limited audience. We all read the bulletin the first time. After you send it 4 more times, you have saturated us with the information. Post an informational bulletin once, post it again as a reminder maybe a week later. That's all you have to do. Anyone who is interested will take the appropriate measures, believe me.
I've deleted more friends off my friend list for this reason....seriously...
Rant number two about MySpace: Bulletins! Here is another fact about bulletins that, it would appear, several people don't understand: They go to EVERYONE on your friends list. hahah. Yeah similar to above with an important difference. Why the hell do some people find it important to bulletin personal matters that the vast majority of the people on their friends list don't frankly give a shit about? And not important life events - posting a bulletin about your graduation, for example, is not a problem. Posting a bulletin that you won't be online or otherwise available for a few days, not a problem. Posting a bulletin that you're bored...wtf? Here is a bulletin that I think is so important that everyone on my friends list must know about it: I'm bored. Hooray for you.
Even worse, and the reason I deleted one person in particular from my list - white trash drama games in bulletins. So you're having drama with someone...and of course, when you have drama, you must block this person from your MySpace. Now that's fine, provided you really want the drama to end, but you don't. You then start posting bulletins every five minutes about how this person lied and this person cheated and how you have proof of this and that...and so and so says you said this and that... of course, knowing that a mutual friend is going to forward this information to your drama mate so that the drama can continue... Seriously, I DONT WANT TO BE A PART OF YOUR DRAMA, yet, I am forced to be a part because I am in your friend list, too, and I get to have this poison delivered to my home page. I could certainly not read it...but you know, with a title like JENNIE SMITH IS A BIG LYING SLUT WHORE BITCH on the bulletin...the poison manages to get through with no action on my part.
If you had half a fucking spine, you'd NOT block the person you want to have the drama with...contact them DIRECTLY, and HAVE YOUR FUCKING DRAMA WITH THEM. Keep me out of it.
Rant number three about MySpace: Bulletins! HAHAHAHHA yeah, I have a burr up my ass today. But its my blog so fuck it, I'm going to speak my peace. Let me set this straight for all you morons out there that might not understand this. Tom isn't angry, and he isn't going to delete your profile for not reposting a gay ass bulletin. And despite the many warnings, you don't have repost anything...if youre gonna have bad sex for the next 8 years, or never go on a date again, or get dumped by the girl who likes you...its going to happen regardless of whether or not you reposted a bulletin.
Exception: YOU MUST REPOST ALL ANGRYLITTLEDEADGIRL AUCTION BULLETINS! hahahah
And another stupid bulletin...the *goodbye myspace* /*so called friends* bulletin. Gee...I agree with you all that people are getting fake on myspace. This is a test to see who is really paying attention to me. Repost this bulletin or I will delete you from my friend list.... Please. Just today I saw a mutation of this bulletin, where instead of people getting *fake* on myspace, they are getting *retarded* on myspace...hahahah. Do ya THINK so?
Here's an idea. If you want to post this bulletin, or any of the other ones above...just delete me first. Seriously. I don't fucking care. But do it before you send the bulletin, because I don't want to be bothered with looking at it :)
Blog=good therapy...
Sunday, June 04, 2006
...feet fail me not, this may be the only opportunity that I got
Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted
One moment...
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
Her palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on her sweater already, mom's spaghetti
She's nervous, but on the surface she looks calm and ready
To drop bombs, but she keeps on forgetting
What she wrote down
The whole crowd goes so loud
She opens her mouth, but the words won't come out
She's chokin, how everybody's jokin now
The clocks run out, times up over, bloah!
...
She better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass her...
To seize everything you ever wanted
One moment...
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
Her palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on her sweater already, mom's spaghetti
She's nervous, but on the surface she looks calm and ready
To drop bombs, but she keeps on forgetting
What she wrote down
The whole crowd goes so loud
She opens her mouth, but the words won't come out
She's chokin, how everybody's jokin now
The clocks run out, times up over, bloah!
...
She better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass her...
Friday, June 02, 2006
Spiral...
I am fully focused in my own head at this moment. There is no escaping it. God knows I've been trying all day but I CAN'T get out of it. Does anyone else experience this? I am completely focused...narrowed...sited...in one specific location within myself. Certainly there is an environment around me. And I move within it and among it...and I interact with those who share that space...but I'm not here. I'M NOT HERE.
I am focused in my head and I cannot leave. Everything and everyone around me is a blur. I can't concentrate on what people say to me. Hell I don't even know half the time that they're talking to me. All I see is the inside of my head. And maybe that wouldn't be so bad except that my head IS NOT quiet. It is a loud and horrible and angst filled place.
I'm sitting in it right now. Ever hate yourself so much you cant bear to consider the fact that youre still alive and taking up space? Ever sit somewhere and just repeat to yourself over and over again IHATEMYSELFI HATEMYSELFIHATEMYSELFIHATEMYSELF.... well I was just there. Over and over again. And the panic. The sheer panic panicpanicpanicpanicpanicpanicpanicpanic because ihatemyselfihatemyselfihatemyselfihatemyself....and thank god someone walked into the room because it forced me to shut the fuck up...I was just mumbling...because I really didnt want that particular coworker to think that I'd
FINALLY LOST IT
FINALLY SNAPPED
FINALLY WENT OVER THE EDGE...
because thats not the kind of shit that goes over well in the workplace or anywhere else for that matter. And I ran out of that room and ran here and I am so fucking FOCUSED in my BRAIN that I just want it to sleep. I just want it to stop. I just want to feel normal and I just want the FUCKING PANIC TO STOP.
But no, its getting worse.
Im shaking. Right now I'm shaking. And I typed all of this in like 3 minutes. Nonstop typing. And my fucking eyes are as big as saucers and still I dont see ANYTHING but a fucking FOG and that goddamn voice of panic and fear and self loathing and self hatred and self destruction. Holy shit I feel like my eyes are going to explode....
*a panic attack...narrated in real time...for your motherfucking reading pleasure*
I need...to scream...
I am focused in my head and I cannot leave. Everything and everyone around me is a blur. I can't concentrate on what people say to me. Hell I don't even know half the time that they're talking to me. All I see is the inside of my head. And maybe that wouldn't be so bad except that my head IS NOT quiet. It is a loud and horrible and angst filled place.
I'm sitting in it right now. Ever hate yourself so much you cant bear to consider the fact that youre still alive and taking up space? Ever sit somewhere and just repeat to yourself over and over again IHATEMYSELFI HATEMYSELFIHATEMYSELFIHATEMYSELF.... well I was just there. Over and over again. And the panic. The sheer panic panicpanicpanicpanicpanicpanicpanicpanic because ihatemyselfihatemyselfihatemyselfihatemyself....and thank god someone walked into the room because it forced me to shut the fuck up...I was just mumbling...because I really didnt want that particular coworker to think that I'd
FINALLY LOST IT
FINALLY SNAPPED
FINALLY WENT OVER THE EDGE...
because thats not the kind of shit that goes over well in the workplace or anywhere else for that matter. And I ran out of that room and ran here and I am so fucking FOCUSED in my BRAIN that I just want it to sleep. I just want it to stop. I just want to feel normal and I just want the FUCKING PANIC TO STOP.
But no, its getting worse.
Im shaking. Right now I'm shaking. And I typed all of this in like 3 minutes. Nonstop typing. And my fucking eyes are as big as saucers and still I dont see ANYTHING but a fucking FOG and that goddamn voice of panic and fear and self loathing and self hatred and self destruction. Holy shit I feel like my eyes are going to explode....
*a panic attack...narrated in real time...for your motherfucking reading pleasure*
I need...to scream...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
