k, so here I am, day before thanksgiving is over..still doesn’t feel like t-giving is tomorrow..eek, so i woke up randomly today at like 930 and remembered that lit crit grades were up..and eeek..i got an A on research assignment, and nothing was taken off from grade last week..yay..so after checked., went back to sleep till like 1230..well it was raining out..so it made it 600 percent more comfy to sleep..so after got up me and pearls went to other mall to try and return dress..well, thats what blog title refers to how the employees there were mean and bitchy and refused to take it back..well ok, we had this girl cashier at first that was maybe our age..maybe even younger and she yanked of the wrapping and inspected the poor dress like a Nazi KGB officer and called over the manager, this short gray squat woman with gray hair..they wouldn’t believe dress had never been worn..grrr..really, people are so unkind..um, like they would have gotten fired if they took it back? like a majority of dresses in the store never even get sold and have to be shipped back? :/ anyway, last hope is two further away malls..so returning them at male departments with male cashiers..yeaaah..anyway, ate at mall then looked at vs..where found the best purple, deep royal panties..just one my size left..eeep..yeah, but cost $16..what a dumb price..should get black french maid gloves first..then maybe get them..while we were standing at table looking at underwear..lady came up and said how the xs looked like it could fit a 5yr old….wow, please..i find it astounding that 99.9% of people dk the secret to underwear..how much it sags and gets loose in the wash..even xs get too big on me..jiji..which is why i got girls size xs for 4yr old hello kitty briefs…shhh..jiji..4yr olds cannot wear them..underwear sizes are so exagerrated..anyway, after mall had to go back to meet roo for pre-t-giving dinner, we had boba and green olive pizza which is super super salty..but good..reminded me of teenage mutant ninja turtle heads the way the olives were cut. meeji! yup, so after roo’s drove back in pouring rain to pearls, where her rents cooked this gross macaroni..seriously..it looked like bright yellow glue..liquid cheddar cheese??/ eww, and now am back here..refuse to sleep till typed more of essay..oh and wish someone wasn’t going home for t-giving. *cough*

so NEED to see Fantastic Mr. Fox!

I had to go in fasting, so that meant no meds in the middle of the night or this morning. Geezum crow!!! I forgot how weak I am without Mestinon. It was really hard getting in and out of the van. I walked like a drunk, shuffling old lady. Steering the van was WORK.

I cannot take my meds without food, so had to do without. Mestinon is tough on the guts. Days and days of diarrhea have made me weaker than usual…..and also dehydrated. The woman drawing my blood had a hard time. She had to poke me repeatedly and move the needle around. Until then, I did not realize how dehydrated I had become. Did the pinch test and the skin on my hands stands up in a sharp line from being pinched. Sigh…

I’m soooooo darned weak! I guess it will take more than one dose of Mestinon until my strength comes back. Both of my legs hurt unmercifully The pain is making me extra queasy. Sigh…   Nap time!

If you love the Lord he will bless you. You choose to be  BLESSED OR CURSED. What is it going to take in these last days ? God’s presence on you will change people around you. Be blessed by the word of God not man.

Whenever my leg/foot swells up like last night, the veins pop out in my foot. Yuck. Anybody know why? Is it from the pressure of the swelling?

This is not to be confused with when my foot turns purple. That happens to all my toes and the toe half of my foot. I think it looks kinda cool, and best of all…it DOESN”T hurt to be cold and purple

My upper leg gets veins popping out, too, from swelling. The dent hurts REALLY bad It stings and has sharp pains. Luc kept telling me I had to go to the ER and he was taking me. I told him I’m too big to forcibly move! The fluorescent lights in the ER make me so sick that I have to be feeling like I’m going to die before willingly going.

Perhaps later I will take one of my Vicodins. Tears keep sneaking out because it hurts so much I can feel every muscle in my body tensed up. What a wimp…

Still having gut distress. At this point docs could do a colonoscopy without bothering to clean me out first. Ugh. It HAS to be the Clindamycin.

I’ve always seen my life as a book in writing. Everyday is a page, a paragraph, a chapter. I take chances and risks. I do things that I know would hurt me, and put me in danger. I tell myself this is what stories are made of.

I know no complacency.

Some people solve their problems as quickly as they can. They hate conflict, and they hate issues, and they hate the whole confusion. I guess I’m not like other people – the bigger the conflict the more interesting the story is. Except stories are written with solutions on hand – you just have to read the next page or two to get to the answer. In a sense it’s already presented to you, you just have to learn to sit back and absorb the problem.

My life is one big problem after the other, and the answers are not always on the next page. What else can I do but hope that this particular problem would make a good story tomorrow morning.

—————————-

Something happened a few days ago. I’m not sure yet if I should write it down or tear the page allotted for it. Looking back it was a stupid thing for me to do, and a stupid situation I willingly involved myself in. I was lucky I came out alive. Looking at the logic behind the whole conflict I had a 0% rate of survival. It was the perfect setting to kill the lead player in my own book.

If I died, I guess I wouldn’t be here contemplating to whether write the story or not. I guess I should write it. I owe it to the character who unwittingly played his part.

Stop looking at his friend’s albums!

You’re gonna see them together and it will only hurt you more.

Sigh.

every time i go to the gym, i always buy a bottle of gatorade.

not for me, pero for someone.

pag hindi ko nakita yung person, i just bring that home and i never drink it. Di ko naman type kasi lasa ng gatorade.

so tonight, I put out the latest gatorade that I bought and put it alongside the other gatorades na hindi ko na nabigay.

they’re starting to stack up. I always forget to bring one, para hindi nako bibili.

Saka pag binaon ko kasi nang ganun, hindi na siya malamig pag dating ko gym in the evening.

ayun… so nag aantay na lang sila gatorade.

We went to ihop today for our last little reunion before Thanksgiving break and I had so much fun.  It kinda reminded me of how we use to be. I miss that.

{sigh}

My leg looks even worse than this Just in the last hour it started swelling up. The dent is a cavern. There are new big lumps and bumps. It itches like crazy. I’m breaking into hives again. I burst into tears and want to hide. I do not want to go back to the ER. The very first time I ever had a real DVT clot in my leg was Thanksgiving day 1984.

My leg hurts really bad….and more by the second. I just got up. My leg is hot and swollen tight all the way up my leg. I moved to the bed and am lying flat. Geeeeeeeeze…it hurts

If I close my eyes will it all go away?

On Channel 4 now is “Dispatches – Return to Africa’s Witch Children”, I have just watched 5 mins of it and I am already deeply disgusted. Parents burning, pouring acid on, beating and burying their own children alive due to a belief in them being witches.

Not surprisingly this is all done in the name of God, in the name of Jesus. Seriously fucked up. Religion, combined with a lack of education really does make me sick. Watch it here:

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/dispatches/episode-guide/series-43/episode-1

I hope you don’t enjoy this, I hope you are as disgusted as I am,

TWH

I’m still awake. I did get in bed once around 3 AM. I was surprised when Zeke dog asked to come up, too. Must be he liked being in bed the night before. Aleka cat is jealous. She is used to having me all to herself. As I patted the bed so Zeke knew where to jump up, Aleka went down there to keep Zeke out. She even smacked him on the nose from up above. Children!

Zeke spent most of his time in bed panting so hard that I felt like a boat on a rough sea. He really prefers sleeping in snow! He should get his wish later this week.

I spent the night puttering. I would work a while, sit a while. I organized some shelves and paperwork. I read some new seed catalogs. I looked up recipes for foods I have on hand. This night was about like the one before. GUT DISTRESS. Ugh. Either there is something going around or the drama around here affects me more than I would like to admit. BUT…I also ran out of home-made yogurt. My guts have not been well since the Clindamycin. Sigh……

Ancient 747 plies the North Atlantic left to right, up from down.  Not pretty sight, but one cut to look nose-on like comical, though mythical bird. No Anhinga here, on crest of tree drying in wings under gathering sun.  No sliver tattoo on Boeing’s back, no long elegant beak with tubular neck. Just comedic grinbeak.

Inside seats unplush, no personal media player – band practices later. Gotta fly Airbus for that, on this line.  Just fullness in flight, with chatty, thin man to the side, next to pudgy young thing caring for the unfortunate elder to her side.  Must exit stage right, though holds it in well. Four straight down the middle. A Tamil cordial.

All security and fire of home, the heart’s caress across narrow divide;  whisps of Carol St. Claire flows the gap.  Fat woman, maybe Swiss to the fore, unintelligible in verse with her man, annoys the senses, leans too far and claims the errant cash, surely not hers, but hers just the same. No thanks expressed in odd sounding French, or was that German.

German definitely from behind, though maybe it danes or consumes the swede. Reads bible and laughs amazed at inane animation up and ahead. Argh…

Whisp of Carol brings cheese – block of Chevre – no creamed Philadelphia here. And something else white. Soothes the disappointment of Half. All the Better.  Prelude to sleep. Dormant to blindfold.

Night settles, sleep evades, animation too distant. 747 in heaven, Tamil man more down to earth. No tiger, just IT, sans ‘ette. Though on route to the killing fields, several years on, in search of a miracle, an apparition. Of course.  In a little town and parish, dissimilar, though not different from his own. But where are the French?

Rush of air fills the ears, languages cascade – food and meaningless time bind the corporal ascent, cruise and ultimate landing. Noises assault.  Stale air sickens in a whisp.

No little blue car awaiting at terminal in F. Just  just a Turk from Cypress, venting disdain of those he chooses to join. Something about wearing soilfull shoes in home.

Shuttered home, protects the storm. All in the key of E.  Is there any other?

I should have never whined that things were “too quiet” yesterday. Afterwards I went through hours of apartment drama that I cannot put online. It involves money and drugs and a psychiatric patient, a frightened old lady and a WHOLE lot more. Waaaaaaaaaay too much excitement and drama. When things get scary, the stress goes right to my guts. I was up most of the night in the bathroom.

Zeke was in my bed when I came back from one of my trips. He looked so cute! I got in the other side of the bed and was totally amazed that he stayed. Zeke does not like to cuddle in bed. He thinks people are too hot. When I got in bed it was 7:15 and when I woke up it was 7:15. No more Dollar Store batteries! It was really after noon

I am sad that I missed church, but am also glad. I really was in no shape to drive. In the night I was sooooo sick. I still am, but feel a heck of a lot better than last night

I think I’m suffering from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder).

It can’t be a coincidence that come every winter when the light in the days are quickly devoured by the dark a restless, dissatisfied and highly irritable mood overcomes me.

Spring’s fresh buds are greeted by the birds.

Summer buzzes with radiance and anticipation.

Autumn’s leaves whisper when they fall.

Winter sits shrouded in soul sapping greyness and speaks to no one.

Although when I was taking photos of the dullness outside this morning to illustrate the dreary weather we’re living through at the moment I caught this:-

A rainbow against the grey, giving us all a little hope.