29 April 2003

[A Word About My Waistline]

I just ate two cheeseburgers for lunch. I'll be rolling off to fat camp soon. At least I had the diet coke, because who knows what that sugar would have done to me. In other news, I really think I need to quick smoking, for good. None of this quitting for a couple weeks or "cutting back." I got really winded during sex last night, but not in a good way (question: is there a good way?) -- rather in a "this is so un-sexy listen to me wheeze like an asthmatic donkey you probably don't want to fuck me anymore" way. I make no sense. And I feel a headache creeping up.

26 April 2003

[Sounds of Spring]

I'm sitting in my relatively dark living room listening to various Spring noises: car stereos blasting Tom Petty ("Free Fallin'" was the last song I heard), birds twirping (warning the others about the new black cat in the neighborhood) incessantly, my neighbors doing it (again). I think I want some cereal. Ah, if only I had kidnapped Dilbert for the weekend. Mayhaps I would have more to write. Lil' "D" is in need of a wild weekend, here at chateau Amanda. I did, in slightly mundane news, purchase a six-hundred count package of Q-tips this morning at Sam's. Ah, the adventures of bulk.

25 April 2003

[Truth:]

I once slept with a married man, just to "chip away at the Ten Commandments." And in other news, I am not dead. Just on hiatus.

13 April 2003

[caravans in periwinkle blue and David Bowie in package pants]

This will be my first attempt, in quite a while, to post something with substance, though I'm sure I will fail miserably: my drivel will most likely pale in comparison to Sarah's pictorial review of yesterday's events -- interesting, amusing, annoying, and side-splittingly funny in nature (sure "side-splittingly" is not a real word, but it sounds fun). But before going into my take on yesterday's events, I will step back one day earlier, to reopen yet another chapter in the "Headache Chronicles." The "ruin my friday afternoon" migraine emerged slowly. I woke up in decent spirits, not feeling any pain and looking forward to work -- as a paycheck was waiting for my greedy little hands. Clearly, the Universe did not want me to get paid. A tiny headache, which eventually developed into a uncontrollable beast of a thing, made sure that the Universe's request was done, and done in the most extreme manner I might add. When I find myself regurgitating basic pain killers -- Tylenol and Advil -- after taking a couple for what I deem a "normal" headache, I know I'm in trouble. And that's exactly what happened. And while I appreciate the abdominal workout I get from dry heaving water and stomach acid, I just can't find pleasure in the whole experience. I tried -- really tried -- to make it to work. After my second vomiting session, I seriously felt better (which isn't saying that much in the whole scheme of things). I took Sean to work and continued on my merry way to my paycheck. Ten minutes of driving later, I found myself nearing Cross County Highway and death. My stomach churning, my eyes focusing and unfocusing, I knew I needed to get home, and fast. I decided to take the Lockland exit after Cross County Highway and immediately turn myself around, hopping onto the highway -- southbound for home. Unfortunately, Lockland's exit on I-75 North is not accompanied by an on ramp to I-75 South within the vicinity. I found myself winding through an area -- an area I'm not very familiar with -- looking for I-75 South. Nausea feeds off my driving. And because I'm concentrating on getting back onto the highway, I was not concentrating on holding down the contents of my stomach. I seriously thought I was going to lose myself two or three times. The good news was that I was able to get myself back onto the expressway fairly quickly; the bad new was that traffic was pretty much at at a standstill. Driving forward a few feet every ten seconds or so was horrible. My head pounded, my stomach tightened randomly. I had to force myself to sit up straight as slouching only facilitated my passing out -- which I did briefly while behind the wheel. Scary, indeed. Supposedly, there was a disabled vehicle at the Paddock exit, but I saw nothing when I finally passed. On I-75 South for twenty-five minutes, I was relieved upon reaching the safety of the Mitchell exit, five minutes from my home. I could tell you in detail about the mad dash from my car and into my apartment (I left my purse and work bag in my car), more specifically into my bathroom, and what ensued after that, but I will not; I am not that pressed to share. I composed myself enough to contact work via email concerning my absence. My eyes refused to look directly at my computer monitor. I will check my "Sent Box" later to see how atrocious my spelling was in my note to my boss. By the time I was "okay" enough to pass out, it was noon or so. Tom came by to pick up his cable box around then -- something that we both just forgot about. Maybe it was the headache. Maybe my sea-like-sickness was speaking. But seeing Tom outside the context of our previous relationship made me see just how unpleasant he is. How I stayed with him -- the epitome of misery -- for nearly four years floors me every time I think about it, and, unfortunately, I find myself thinking about it more often than I'd like. Yes, this is completely off topic, but I needed to say it, to admit it, to get it out of me. After a good nap, I felt nearly one-hundred percent. I needed the sleep, as I've been fighting insomnia since the start of the Spring quarter.[completely irrelevant side step] Also, my bouts with not being happy with my work status have been making me ill. I don't make enough money for what I do. And UC knows it. I haven't started grinding my teeth again, thank God for that. I'm meant for something beyond teaching Freshman English on the two-year college level. I know it. [/completely irrelevant side step] Though I Initially intended to discuss my viewing of Rob Zombie's excellent flick, House of 1000 Corpses and my day with Sarah, I have grown a bit hungry. This will be continued later.

07 April 2003

[Complete course in intoxication, and other upper level electives]

With the weather regressing terribly and the clocks skipping ahead merrily, my body is, for lack of a better term, wacked. After a stoney Saturday afternoon at home and a chocolate martini night at Carol's, I wanted nothing more than to sleep all day Sunday, not because I was sick, but because I was whipped, bored, and brain dead. Hopefully, the fact that I was only able to sleep two hours last night will afford me sweet dreams tonight, as -- like every tuesday and thursday -- I have to wake up "ass-early." I have my lesson plans and handouts ready for tomorrow's day of "instruction," and I think I'll spend the rest of the evening either grinding away at my new website -- which I've been working on for a month -- or lazing away in the bathtub with a smutty book or shallow fashion magazine.

05 April 2003

[She was the third beer]

Yes, I haven't been the most exciting person lately. I am working eight hours a week at Ray's Place (UC's Blue Ash Campus) -- this, of course, does not include at-home grading and prepping time -- and twenty-some hours a week at Thinkronize. I've found myself, several times this past week, very angry at circumstances beyond my control -- particularly ones involving my work at UC. But rather than rant all day in here about it (my fear of the written word's permanence biting me in the ass later has been a growing issue lately), I've been writing in my paper journal, as it is a safer mode of release. Insert phone ringing. Oh happy day. Sarah just called me. I think we're going to do something cerebral like go to the museum. Sweet.