My-graine

It is 9:30 am and i have about a half-blown migraine headache. Note that this is after having zero hangover yesterday (after drinking for a full 12 hours Saturday). Note that this is after getting a solid 8 hours of sleep, eating well, and experiencing relatively low levels of overall life stress. Note that i haven't had more than a twinge of a migraine in several years (which i promptly expel from my body by popping a coupld of Excedrin migraine, the drug of the gods). Note that i thought of something relatively profound to blog about only to have it obliterated by said migraine. I'm gonna try this again later.

because i've been scolded for not writing

hello my darling macadamia nuts. i apologize for my absence. i've been woefully under-performing on the writing front during the past month or so. i've been in a wound-licking retreat, but hopefully things are all starting to turn around (Bright Eyes, EVERY NOW AND THEN I FALL APAAART...and i need you now, forever...and i need you more than ever, and if you'll only hold me tiiiiight, we'll be holding on forever, we can make it to the end of the line, your love is like a shadow on me all of the time...). sorry. i get carried away. and i make no promises that those are the actual lyrics. i'm one of those people who don't understand what lyrics are saying half the time and just make up my own. i'd love to give you a witty example, but i've been up since 4 am and nothing is making sense, not even my own fingers at this point.

also, i'm realizing that i don't have much to say on a writing-slash-professional level, except that i haven't been, really, and i don't really want to talk about all of my personal problems (and they are feeling pretty overwhelming right about now), so i'm going to sign off, go watch some mind-numbing television, and then read myself to sleep while trying not to think about lovely, glorious, glowing-tipped cigarettes. which i'm off, at the moment, in case anyone asks.

adios and good night.

i apologize for wasting your time.

blah

So, I'm deep in what i've finally come to realize (after several subsequent years of wanting to kill myself come mid-to-late February) as my "winter depression." I feel like crap, i'm frustrated, i'm bored, i'm tired of being inside all the time, i'm tired of having to wear long sleeves that are NEVER long enough because of my freakishly long arms, i feel like everyone hates me, and i'm stressed about school, work, life, friends, and where i'm going to live. i'm also seriously considering deleting my blog, as i feel like i can't write what i want to without making people angry, which makes me feel like i need to censor myself, which completely paralyzes my writing. when, in fact, most of what i write has nothing to do with anyone specifically and has a lot more to do with my own personal psychoses and frustrations over large, general things in my life and personal hangups that have been honed for YEARS. in all likelihood, anything i write has nothing whatsoever to do with you. so please don't take it personally. just because i express frustration that all my friends are married does NOT mean that i dislike you, married friend. just because i write about my frustration with ungrateful men does NOT mean that i am angry at you, sir, or that i think you are ungrateful. also, i am almost always willing to discuss any of my views and listen to yours. if you disagree with me, say something. it's not going to offend me.

i want to go to sleep and not wake up until May.

get divorced. i'll feel better.

i hate it that you're all* married. because i feel like my relationship problems seem stupid, or tawdry, like you're listening with your hands to your mouths, hiding your wry smiles, thinking, "aw, how adorable!" looking knowingly at your spouse, saying, "remember, honey, when we used to fight about such silly things?"

don't get me wrong. i DO NOT want to be married. i just want ALL of you not to be married either. because when i'm cranky, like today, i don't have a single single girlfriend to call and say "let's go get trashed." or when i'm having relationship problems, like today, i don't have a single girlfriend to call and say "what the fuck is he thinking?" without hearing an adorable anecdote about her mostly perfect "but we still have our bad days" husband.

who is going to come over and help me get ready for my birthday party?

who is going to run over with a tub of ice cream and a good chick flick when i'm depressed?

who is going to wail with me about the lack of decent men in this city?

who is going to get gussied up with me to go to bars where we will unsuccessfully try to pick up men while getting completely drunk?

NO ONE. BECAUSE YOU ARE ALL MARRIED. and you have to check with your husbands first. and you're annoying secure in your relationships. and you have all the fucking answers. i'm sorry. i don't want answers. i want some befuddled commisseration, okay? I want you not to know why men are so frustrating, too.

is that too much to ask?

there, married kyle. there's your fucking question of the day. "is that too much to ask?"

*i may be exaggerating. but i'm upset. and that's how i feel, even if it's not true.

little toe, big mistake

So, I have been cooped up in my 3 square foot apartment since I got home from the emergency room on Sunday. I have gotten out of bed to walk A) to the couch, B) to the bathroom, or C) (and this is the big adventure) downstairs to smoke outside. I was a good girl. I kept my foot elevated, iced, and my toes taped together. When i walked around, I walked on my heel. My boss was nice enough to let me do work from home, so i sat, laptop on lap, leg elevated, and edited. my toe felt pretty good. it only started to ache when i went downstairs, and then quickly felt better when i elevated it again.

So, feeling guilty because my toe was feeling better and because my boss was calling every day to ask how i was feeling and when might i be back at work, and not wanting to go back until monday, I compromised and told him that i would come in for half a day today (Friday), and if i felt good enough, i'd stay through the day.

i took the bus so i wouldn't have to navigate the subway stairs (and the L train full of hipsters). Too many opportunities to have my foot tromped on. At least on the bus, i can tuck my bad foot under the seat. so i stuffed the bad foot into my rain boots (because it was raining and the attractive blue canvas open-toe bootie with velcro straps they gave me wasn't going to cut it) and hobbled to the the bus stop. one transfer and 45 minutes later, i limped into work, already in pain. as i type this, i'm sitting, left leg on my desk next to the keyboard, waiting until lunchtime so i can go home. thank god i'm flexible enough to elevate my leg and type at the same time.

right. so now i'm in worse pain than i've been in all week and worried that i've just gone and undone all the good i did being cooped up in that tiny fucking apartment all week.

side note: the lesser of the two evil roommates is dog sitting this weekend. and the dog is staying with us. which i was okay with until i came home last night to find a disgusting chewed-up slobbery bone on MY COUCH and see that the roommate decided to use my bowls (yes, the human bowls. mine. that i EAT out of.) as the dog's food and water dishes. DISGUSTING. absolutely disgusting.

so, as i always try to do when life pelts me with lemons, i try and make sense of it all by learning something. So, here's what i feel i've learned this week.

1. I am either allergic to having a broken toe or my apartment. Judging by the amount of dust in my apartment, i'm leaning toward that explanation.

2. When you are hurt such that you are house-ridden and unable to go out for the basic necessities (ie, cigarettes, booze, oranges), you find out who really loves you and who doesn't. The people who love you call first to ask what they should bring you, then come over bearing a) the items you need, and b) presents. This is, of course, quite a matter of proximity. Those who are unable to come over show their love by texting constantly throughout the day, having two-hour-long phone conversations at night to help you stave off the boredom, and sending you cab money. (i heart grandma. so much.)

3. You sometimes come to the unfortunate, surprising, and very disheartening realization that someone who should love you and be there for you and be taking care of you and asking you if you need anything and having two-hour-long conversations to stave off the boredom is nowhere to be found.

Sometimes, the people you don't expect to show up do. And the people you think are going to be there for you aren't. That's something I've never understood. How the people who are closest to us are able to let us down so completely.

so here i am, broken toe and all, feeling raw and vulnerable, frustrated by my limited mobility, guilty because friends have so unselfishly offered their help to me, abandoned by someone close to me. maybe i'm making too big a deal out of a lousy broken toe. but if you can't depend on someone when it's something as small as a toe, what's going to happen when something more crippling happens?

maybe i made a bigger mistake than coming to work this morning. maybe my big mistake was depending on people who weren't there for me when i needed them.

on the other hand, i have some fantastic, amazing friends who really came through for me this week. and for them, i am truly grateful. i feel blessed to be so loved. to them i would like to say thank you. I am deeply moved by your selflessness.

and baby makes four

Yes, this is the fourth blog I've started. Well, the third, actually, but I'm a member of another, so we'll just go with four. if that's okay with you. actually, i don't care if it's okay with you. it's my blog. i can do what i want.

so, anyway, the first blog was an angsty "i hate my life in pittsburgh, everything sucks, my boyfriend doesn't love me, and i have no friends" whiny, ranty piece of shit that no longer applies to my life. so, i've let that one mist off into the ether of the blogosphere. good riddance. the second started off as a "writing" blog, but the only posts i made to it were updates on how my "novel in a month" project was working out, which, coincidentally, only lasted for a month. i never actually posted anything i've written. because everyone i know has that blog address. and i just don't feel comfortable putting myself out there like that. especially when my mother and grandmother can read it. not that they do. but they could. the third is a group blog, like i said, that sort of counts but that i'm not going to post anything personal or non-writing--related to (how do you do en dashes on this thing?). So here's lucky number 4.

I decided to start this new, improved blog because A) a certain Okie has been *loudly* complaining of late that i "never" post anything to my blog and B) I keep having weird, funny, crazy, existential, terrible, and/or deep-thought--inducing (en dash, again) experiences the likes of which i feel i should somehow document so that when i'm married with kids and live in the suburbs in a few years, i can look back and be marginally solaced by remembering that life used to be worth living. also, we've all seen how the writing-themed blog worked out. right, not so good.

so, here's to me possibly writing something on a blog that has more to do with my life (which continues whether i think about it or not) than my writing (which resembles something more like a petulant child that is prone to running away and attempting suicide).

Enjoy yourself. That is, if I actually blog on this thing.

Oh, and thanks for reading. Your comments are welcomed (unless they're mean. in which case, keep it to yourself unless you want the equivalent of WWIII via blogosphere. seriously, i mean it. i'm a badass.).