Perpetual Smile

I just had sort of a revelation: Even though I opted out of NaNoWriMo this year, I still should have tried to write about 2000 words a day to finish The Cure Program. I guess it’s kind of realistically impossible to cram my days with all the things I try to schedule myself for, but still. I haven’t touched The Cure Program in a few weeks, even though the entire point of opting out of NaNo was to finish last year’s novel.

Now that I spent all of last night working on the Letters of Love website — I managed to mess up the WordPress installation there while trying to move it to a new directory — and have no energy to do any homework today, I think I’ll spend some time doing some actual writing. I think I deserve it, after this week. At least, my novel deserves it.

I hit a roadblock when I was last working on it, but Professor H. — my editor — offered me some suggestions and I think I have a way now. At least, I have something to try.

Nothing about today is good. My back pain is back; I spent last night tossing and turning because not only was it in my lower back but also in my front hips. I also had a bad dream, so all in all it made for a pretty sleepless night. I dreamed I was some blond runaway and my runaway, brunette and abusive boyfriend got me knocked up. He beat me up so bad that I had a miscarriage. The dream flickered to me lying on a hospital table to me in some house where everyone was dead and I had a gun to defend myself from — I’m assuming — my abusive dream boyfriend. Talk about a vivid — and somewhat depressing — mind. I don’t dream that vividly very often, but when I do they’re usually really crazy.

Maybe I’m having more issues with what happened to me than I initially thought.

I went to the chiropractor this afternoon and then to Wal-Mart. I got some stuff to make cards with for the Letters of Love Greeting Card Challenge and stuff for my crafts class on Monday. I also got some sugar cookie mix, which was a pick-me-up — at the time.

Then I got home, and all hell broke loose. Mike and I got into a fight, Lauren and I got into a fight, and now I have no energy to get anything done that I need to get done. I have piles upon piles of things to do, and it’s so overwhelming that I don’t want to do any of it. I hung out with Nikki last night and although it was a nice break it’s just another reminder that I hardly ever get to just relax. Even when I’m hanging out with my friends or Mike, my mind is constantly racing, thinking of all the things I need to get done. I can’t relax, because I’m too busy being preoccupied with what I think I should be doing instead of having fun.

To top it off, my McAfee subscription is expired. I probably shouldn’t be online right now.

There are some days when lifting my arms above my head hurts too much to bother with blow drying and straightening my hair. Sometimes I make my sister do it. Sometimes I force myself through it and take lots of breaks. Recently, I’ve just given up.

It’s much easier, I’ve decided, to twist my hair around my fingers and then pull the curls apart rather than go through all of that straightening business. Even better, I can sleep on it and it usually doesn’t require any work when I wake up.

I feel like I’ve made a major breakthrough; I can actually stand my curls now!

My mother is on Cloud 9 now that I've been wearing my hair au naturale.

Yes, it’s true — the shiny, poker straight hair you’ve been seeing in my photos is a lie. I was born with thick and tight curls that have eluded me for twenty years. I’ve only recently discovered a hair product that kills the frizz, leaves the curls soft and makes them look pretty: Herbal Essences Dangerously Straight mousse. Yep. I don’t get it, either. It makes my curly hair look and smell pretty, though.

Is this a breakthrough? Can I now be satisfied with what I was born with? Will I break the code of women’s nature? Only time will tell how long it takes before I hate my curls again.

Apparently I missed something when Sarcastica told me she loves my blog. I am so dense that I completely missed the fact that one, I got an award and two, I’m supposed to nominate seven other blogs!

I blame it on the fact that when she nominated me, Sarcastica admitted that she has a girl crush on me. My dizzy little head completely ignored everything else, it seems! So please excuse my ditsy moment and read on to see whose blogs I love!

Here are the responsibilities of being a recipient of this award:

1) Add the logo of the award to your blog
2) Add a link to the person who awarded it to you
3) Nominate at least 7 other blogs
4) Add links to those blogs on your blog
5) Leave a message for your nominees on their blogs!

• Miss Nikki Starr — I may be biased because she’s a good friend, but Nikki’s blog is fairly new to the blogosphere and she could use some comment love! Her words are thoughtful and she really makes you think.
• Sarcastica — Again, probably biased; she thinks I’m pretty! Still, she’s got a lot to say and has a very mature view of the world. Plus, she’s kind hot, too.
• Attack of the Redneck Mommy — Tanis will make you laugh, cry and leave you begging for more. She is a hero in my eyes; she has experienced one of the hardest things in life and is still able to keep on living and loving.
• Slightly off the Mark — I’m attached to this blog. I’ve kept my LiveJournal account specifically so I can still read Mark’s columns. He’s got a great sense of humor and his articles are also thought-provoking. You’ll want OpenID so you can comment.
• Scars Can Speak — I’ll admit, I started this blog, so I’m probably biased. Still, each and every SCS blogger brings strength to the Letters of Love community and is an inspiration to everyone who has ever struggled with depression. You guys are a huge part of my world, and you don’t get enough credit for the wonderful posts you write.
• Just Lizabell — Lizzy was one of the first bloggers to start reading my blog without me reading hers first. Her rants always make me laugh, and she has nice hair. Her boyfriend’s also a Campbell (mine goes by the nickname Mike the Soupcan), so she gets extra points for that.
• Mary Murderface — This girl rocks. She’s the brilliant mind behind Astrid and Dante (which I will post here someday) and she’s cool. She’s the other reason I still have my Lj account.

It was hard to pick only seven, but I wanted to pick some bloggers that don’t get enough props. I love you all though, so this wasn’t meant to hurt anyone’s feelings.

Thanks again to Sarcastica for rewarding me, and thanks to everyone who reads my drivel. Yay!

Sometimes I feel like the world’s biggest liar. Okay, not a liar. But I do feel like people may think I’m lying. Do I sound paranoid? Stay with me. I’ll explain.

I go to the chiropractor every Wednesday. Today was my fourth visit, and Dr. Rosa — my regular doctor — is on vacation. The chiropractic assistant (massage therapist?) always asks me how I’m feeling and to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10. Sounds pretty basic, right?

It’s not. When she asked me today, I said, “Well, my back is all better, as long as I’m very careful about how I sit and stuff.”

“Good,” she said, making a note. “And your neck?”

“My neck is — well, it’s stiff — but it’s more my arms.”

“And how would you rate the pain?”

“Well, it’s so on and off it’s hard to tell. I guess… a six?”

It is so hard to explain to someone something that isn’t always there, or plays musical chairs. Like, when my back hurt I could say, “it was an eight all day today, but now it’s about a five,” or “it’s been a four today.” With my arms, one spot could be a three, another could be a nine, yet another could be a six and another could be a 999939572359i27t59275. The next day I could have a pain number of two in my wrist for a few minutes, ten in my upper arm thirty minutes later, then sharper pain in my wrist. The scale system really doesn’t work, unless I were to walk around with a notepad noting each spot and the scale number. That would get awfully tedious. I mean, I have a hard enough time doing things as it is because of this. If I were to stop each and every time just to write it down, I’d never get anything done!

Besides, what would I do at the end of the day? Find the mean, median and mode of all of the numbers? Would those calculations be, like, the final scale number I give to the people at my chiropractor’s office? In that case, I’d better pick up a notepad and a calculator.

PS: I’ve edited all of my pre-diagnosis posts and put them in the Thoracic Outlet Syndrome category, if anyone is interested in reading them from the beginning. There are probably — no, definitely — more that I haven’t gotten to. I’ll get there. Eventually.

Last night, as I drove home from Mike’s — I went over there to watch the game — I tried to figure out what my surprise might be, besides the seemingly obvious. I narrowed it down to clothes or shoes:

Clothes would make sense, because Britt (his sister) could try them on and/or pick them out, and he would have had to ask my mom for my sizes. The problem with this theory? He already knows my sizes (they’re basically the same as Britt’s) and he just gave me a few garbage bags full of Britt’s gently (read: never) used clothing.

Shoes would make sense, because Britt got him Pumas for his birthday because her boyfriend has a friend who works at a shoe store and he can get a discount through him. Mike would have had to ask Mom for my shoe size (which he definitely doesn’t know). I’m kind of disbanding this theory, though; when I told Mom I thought he was getting me shoes she said it was an “interesting” theory and the look on her face told me that I wasn’t even close.

So I’m back to square one. Does anyone have any suggestions? Please help!

Never, ever, ever tell someone “I need to talk to you about something” if it has to wait more than five minutes to be talked about. I think my head is going to fall off and my heart is going to come out of my chest. I don’t want anymore bad news. I don’t want to have a serious, dire conversation. I have had enough bad news in the last few months, thank you.

Last night, when I got home from my marathon school day (11:15 to 8:30, woo!), I found out that my grandmother’s best friend Elaine is dying. Cancer. For all I know, she could have passed in the four hours I was at work. A couple months earlier, I found out my friend Liane from high school died. Before that, during the summer, I found out that my Grandpa Wish passed. (I can’t find that post for some reason. UGH.) Plus, yesterday was the three year anniversary of my miscarriage. To top it off, I made a stupid post earlier today admitting my old battle with self-injury.

My nerves are fucked right now.

Today is a bad day, and also a good day. Three years ago something very big happened to me, something that I will always carry with me. I’m not going to be sad right now, though. Good things happened today.

I got my transcript transfer and graduation applications! I just finished filling them out and will drop them off on my way to Creative Writing later. I’m really excited about this. I need to fill out an application for SCSU now, though.

Today is also a bad pain day — partly because of the TOS, partly because of the flu shot I got last night and partly because of my lower back. I’m trying to get through the day, but all I want to do is go home and lie down with The Host. (Nope, still haven’t gotten to finish it yet. Sigh.)

On a totally random note, I went to Burger King during my break between classes. It took forever to get there because of unexplainable traffic, but when I did get there it took another year to get through the drive-thru. (That particular branch is always slow, whether you go inside or not.) When I finally got the window, paid and got my food, the girl asked me if I wanted any sauce. I said yes, she handed me my bag and just before the window closed I heard the girl next to her say, “For what? She’s only got four nuggets.” (I had fries, too, thank you!) So before I drove off I loudly said that I wouldn’t be coming back. Stupid Burger King.

Anyway.

Little one, I hope you are safe and happy wherever you are. Maybe someday we will meet again, for good this time.

I don’t think I can sit here much longer but I need my Visual Basic professor to look at my programs!

Lately I’ve fallen ridiculously behind in VB, which I’d been sort of ahead in to begin with. At this point I’ve completely given up on trying to read the chapters, and have been printing out his lecture slides instead. I still have two and a half assignments to finish, and tonight he is giving us another one. At least I’m all caught up with Creative Writing (I just have to edit poems to hand in for my portfolio).

Between all of the pain I’ve been in lately and this maddening rush to catch up on school work, I’m beat. Pile on a few other personal things and I’m ready to hop on a plane to Florida. (Besides, it’s warm down there!) I like to say that I thrive under pressure, and normally I do, but right now I’d rather ignore certain things than face them like a man — um, woman.

As for something totally random, I managed to smash two of my fingers in the door of the Director of Student Activities’ office. My middle finger has a crescent shaped blood blister below my nail and it hurts. It’s kind of cool looking but it kind of grosses me out.

NaNoWriMo starts in less than ten days and I still need to finish my characters’ profile sheets and my outline. I wonder if my professors and boyfriend would be okay with it if I totally ignored everything else just so I can get ready to write?

I need to follow Miss Britt’s lead and prioritize. (If you want to skip my boring to-do list, help me figure out why we beat ourselves up!)

I have a long list of projects. Every time I turn around, another one pops up and insists on being completed as well. (For example, as I plan this year’s NaNoWriMo novel an old WIP pops up and begs to be completed.) I have priorities and I have things that I think are priorities. The question is, which are which? (more…)