You know it's going to be a good day when you start it off with pictures of whales on Segways.
I'm almost completely moved in; there are a few boxes that are half-unpacked right now, but for the most part, we're settled. We put together the couch yesterday and it is so comfy. Apparently we're also getting my parents' kitchen table and (huge) old television, but that will get worked out at a later date. I think this is my first real grown-up apartment. I'm not counting the studio in Los Angeles because Steve and I were too depressed and/or busy to do anything with it, really.
When I gather up the energy to clean up a bit and unpack the rechargeable batteries (they're currently in the Wii remotes), I'll go ahead and take some pictures. But right now, I'm crampy as all hell and I just want to melt into the couch. And maybe walk to Target. Yes, I live within a mile of a Target. You totally want to be me.
Speaking of "crampy," my reproductive organs are a complete train wreck right now. I've been deliberately skipping every other period with my birth control (even with hormones, my periods are totally unbearable at times), but I guess it totally backfired on me this month, because I have been spotting and more recently, flat-out menstruating for nearly three weeks. I suppose I could tolerate that, except I had to cancel a pap, and then I couldn't get my rescheduled pap done either.
I kept the second pap appointment and used it to explain that I have random, occasionally intolerable, pelvic pain which is most often completely unrelated to my period, and also, I had been bleeding pretty heavily for a couple of days (despite not being on my hormone-free week). I figure I have endometriosis or something, because both of my sisters do, but my doctor decided to tell me that I could very well be pregnant.
This is incredibly bad, because 1) I was (am) having pretty serious pain a little to the (my) left of my uterus, and 2) I was bleeding at least an ounce a day (a normal period is 3-4 ounces, total) for a few days. This generally indicates an ectopic pregnancy. So, while I waited three hours for my blood test, I was pretty much convinced that my fallopian tube was going to burst open and I'd die of internal bleeding from a theoretical, totally unwelcome embryo.
Obviously that didn't happen, and my test came back negative. I had to fight with my doctor's secretary to give me my results (she had some bonehead excuse like, "the doctor's not here so I can't tell you), and when she finally called me back with them, she said something to the effect of "oh, you're only 23. That's great news, eh?" I guess that's good news, but I'm still bleeding and something is still wrong with my reproductive organs. I think by this point I've bled out at least 6 ounces from breakthrough bleeding, which leads me to believe that my uterus is a clown car full of uterine lining (uterus clowns?). Oh well. It's not like I care about my fertility.
I'm officially starting work on Monday, and I'm going to be paid a wage I can actually live on. Despite the ~80 minute commute, I'm pretty excited to get back to work.
Well, tomorrow's the start of the big move. This is kind of awkward, because I really haven't packed anything other than the stuff that was already packed from when we moved back from Los Angeles. Fortunately, I own about a suitcase's worth of clothing, and DVDs and gaming systems are square and fit into shopping bags and boxes easily.
My sister got her gallbladder out last night, so my mind has definitely been elsewhere. I'm supposed to get an official job offer today (well, I was supposed to get it yesterday too), so I'm pretty stressed about nailing my phone interview with corporate (located in California, so I won't interview in person, I guess), and even more stressed that the call will come while I'm in my therapy session or something. I'm 23 and just discovered that my wisdom teeth need to come out - right as I'm starting a new job!
So yeah, there's a lot of stress going on right now. I think I'll be calm again once I'm in the new place with the bed assembled. But until then, I may be yelling and running around in circles a lot.
Update! Teeth is amazing, hilarious and full of innuendo. And severed dicks; there are just enough severed dicks. I highly recommend it. It is definitely a black comedy and not scary at all (unless you have a penis, I guess. Or you're trying to fist one of your patients).
I have four impacted wisdom teeth, but no cavities! I guess this is a good thing, because I was running out of percocet.
First Brad Renfro and now Heath Ledger. What the hell, world? Why can't shitty people with no talent die instead? I'm not going to use this opportunity to take a jab at some worthless celebrity, because I am legitimately upset that two actors I grew up with are dead now. I guess that's another reason to see the new Batman, eh?
In other news, I'm going to see Teeth tonight!
After I go to the dentist! Seriously!
And I have an apartment in Cambridge now. I get to move in as soon as this weekend.
I love it when people call the media out on their shit!
Jaerb? Awkward awkward! I got offered a job! I worked for my father for a couple of summers and he just got the go-ahead from the company to hire an assistant for a permanent position. I get to work for my Dad (who is, oddly enough, way awesome to work for), and I'd be working for a company full of people who already know me and like me. I've done most of the work before and I know I can do it with confidence. My father is planning to retire soonish, but that gives me at least a year's worth of work before I have to worry about maybe finding another job (if they close the office or hire a new guy that is intolerable to work for).
I sort of get to name my own salary, which is weird. Even more weird is the fact that Steve pointed out today that I was making $40k at UCLA (before taxes), when I thought I was making about 10k less. They were paying me even more money than I thought, and what I thought I was getting paid seemed like way too much money for someone just out of college anyway. I cannot believe I was making that much money! I'm not even bragging (I got laid off, after all); I'm just astounded.
Moving? Since I'm getting a job, I get to move out of my parents' house! I know this is kind of counter-intuitive, but it would be way more convenient for me to take the train 60-ish minutes to work (against rush-hour traffic) rather than carpool with my father and try to figure out how to get Steve to his job, which is nowhere near where I'd be working.
I pointed this out to my father and he said he'd cover first/last/security for me (I offered to pay him back when I had money, but I'm sure he won't take it). I get to move into my own apartment again! I get to hang out in the kitchen in my underwear again! I am so excited. I have my heart set on getting an apartment in Cambridge near my friends in the city. I'd get to go to the weird socialist bar any time I want! They have UFO on tap!
Therapy? ...is nice, but I don't think it's really helping. My therapist is really sweet and is pretty good at helping me come to conclusions about my behavior (e.g.: why am I so scared of disappointing people? Answer: I've been disappointed a lot in life and it really sucked!), but we never really set any goals for therapy (well, maybe to be self-sufficient again), and we're not working to those (maybe nonexistent) goals.
I've pretty much decided that I'm not going to have anxiety problems anymore. It doesn't really work in stressful situations (like driving in rush-hour traffic... which has never gotten any easier for me since I moved back from Los Angeles), but makes me less nervous about leaving the house or meeting up with people I don't know well or don't see often.
Wellbutrin is still my miracle drug. I'm still thinking about upping the dosage, because I do get weepy at the oddest things (see previous entry), but it's so nice to have energy.
Something that sucks: I had to cancel my Pap today because I was spotting. Ugh. I think I have endometriosis or something because I have been having the worst pelvic pain lately (well, for about a year), and one of my sisters has it. I really wanted to go to that appointment. Boo.
Something else good: I finally made a dentist appointment so I can get a mouth guard so I can stop grinding my teeth in my sleep. I kept having these dreams about my teeth rotting out of my head and the dreams miraculously stopped after I made the appointment. Either that, or I just don't remember them anymore.
In defense of Dreamhost So, as you may or may not know, I'm hosted by Dreamhost, and I love them. They just had this wacky screw-up where they accidentally billed a bunch of people, so right now I'm dealing with a charge that is my actual yearly bill for this website, and I'm also dealing with a random accidental charge. I got stressed out enough to put in help request, but I feel really bad about it! I'm sure their billing team is dealing with a massive amount of mail and complaints, and I hate to add to that. They are a really good host though and they're always super nice (and they've always been really prompt with help requests in the past), so if you are looking for a host, I'd still highly recommend them.
1) Comparisons between Barack Obama and Martin Luther King Jr. (MLK Jr. has been accused of spousal abuse). Really? Because they're both black and care about civil rights? Isn't that a little bit of a stretch?
2) John Kerry, Mr. Whitey McBland, endorsing Barack Obama. This cannot be a check in the "positive" column. I do like how he's refuting the argument that Obama is seeding "false hope." He is actually kind of being classy about the whole thing. I think I might take this pet peeve back.
3) Women who support Hillary Clinton because it's "feminist" to vote for a woman. I would vote a woman into the presidency, no problem. I wouldn't vote for Hillary if you paid me. I'm going to use a term that was thrown around a lot last election: "flip-flopper." There you have it.
4) Those segments on C-SPAN where they have people call in with their opinions to kill some time between events. You'd think the callers would be smart, but they sound like total idiots for myriad reasons.
5) The fact that the cable company was supposed to show up at the house between 11am and 1pm, and it's now after 3pm and we haven't heard from them at all. And the fact that my mother is so wishy-washy that she won't make a call to complain. You are the one that is frustrated with the shitty service. Why do you refuse to do anything?
I'm job searching my ass off and it's at least as stressful as living with my parents. Well, they both give me panic attacks, anyway. I hate Craigslist with the fire of a thousand suns. I hate the terms "team player" and "self-starter" with the fire of a million suns. And don't even get me started on that one job where the duties listed "anything else under the sun!" Or the administrative assistant job for a company that can't be bothered to proofread their ad first. Firefox has built-in spell check. These are two companies that I could never work for (unless they hired me for an editing gig).
Will someone just give me a job where I do some repetitive data entry work in a dark closet for minimum wage for a few months? Please?
Steve has been pushing me to update my blog, but it's not like he hasn't been present for everything that's happened to me recently. I like to think that I've been too busy to update, which I guess is sort of true, but things calmed down a couple of days ago. I guess I'm in denial that everyone has gone back home and I'm still, well, here and stagnating again.
My birthday and New Year's were, for the most part, fabulous this year. We went to Sunset, which has become my yearly tradition, mostly because they have over 100 beers on tap and the food is really good. This year was really no exception, except we managed to have the worst waitress ever. My sister waitressed for years, so I like to think I'm fairly sympathetic towards waitstaff in general, but this particular woman was intolerable. She seemed incapable of putting orders in correctly and coming back to the table more than once every 30 minutes. Every other server was doing just fine, so it wasn't the restaurant's fault.
We were so fed up with the service that Nate went upstairs to the bar and bought two yard-long beers. I started losing my buzz while I waited for my second beer, so I walked across the street to the liquor store and bought a bottle of Knob Creek, which I then "snuck" into the restaurant under my coat. Despite the sluggish and otherwise failing service, it was great to be with my friends, especially after spending a couple of days with my family. It's nice to be reminded that at least some people enjoy my company.
I have pretty much decided that if I've been drinking, I don't notice my anxiety, or it actually does go away (as evidenced by my solo trip to the liquor store where some guy totally invaded my personal space and I didn't try to break a bottle and stab him with the shards). Now all I need is an occupation which encourages drunkenness at all times; then I can be a functioning member of society!
The following weekend I went out to western Massachusetts to hang out with Steve's sister and re-meet his little brother (who I'd met for like, 15 minutes prior). I felt pretty crummy going out there, but I managed to not come off like a completely aloof asshole, somehow. I carried on a decent-length conversation with someone I had barely met prior (drinking a beer and having knitting to look at helped a lot), and I managed to find a common interest between the two of us and talk about that, rather than just blathering on about my problems. That weekend I played guitar hero for the first time, and now I'm sad that I own a Wii (and not some other seventh-generation console), because the software is impossible to find, and they don't actually manufacture Wii guitar controllers for sale on their own (you need to buy them bundled.. which is probably why the game is so difficult to obtain). The above photo is from the directions from a 1980's (or maybe 1990's?) version of Taboo, which we started to play but never followed through with (we played Cranium instead).
I am pretty sure that Steve's siblings don't hate me or think I'm psychotic, which is good, because I'm marrying into his family.
New Year's Eve was the train wreck that didn't happen for me this year. Tradition states that my group of friends goes to Nicole's (mother's) house in the middle of nowhere, everyone gets trashed, there's a lot of laughing, usually some crying, and sometimes people get lucky and/or throw up. It's a lot more than that, but that's the gist.
The night pretty much started with my mother accidentally throwing out my makeup, which sent me into this ridiculous fit about how I do not want to be living in my parents' house anymore, and how they're not-so-quietly trying to get rid of me. I hit my head against something (I really don't remember what) a few times, and back of my head only stopped hurting this Friday. I think Steve drove to the party.
I really set out to get drunk but only managed to feel angry and isolated. And of course, feeling isolated because of my own ridiculousness made me feel even more angry. I drank a lot and couldn't get drunk. I calmed down a bit, but never got drunk and happy. It was miserable watching my friends have fun without me. I woke up the next morning and didn't even have a hangover -- just pain in the back of my head.
Since that night I have pretty much resolved to get the hell out of my parents' house. My mother had this exact conversation with me: "So... how are your doctor's appointments going?" (because she can't say "therapy" because god forbid she admit that there's something actually wrong with me.) "They're kind of okay, I guess. I just started." "...So when are you moving out?" [pause pause] "Because your father wants to retire soon." [pause pause] "...yeah."
It's easy to see they don't want me here and that they have never given a shit about my condition. It's also easy to see that I am never going to get better if I don't get out of this house. So I applied to a couple of jobs and now I'm determined to move to Cambridge. Even if I'm doing data entry for minimum wage, it would be better to live in poverty than to live here. Everything about this house disgusts me, and I think it's full of mold from when the ceiling in the kitchen was saturated for three days. Point being, I walk into this house and I burst into tears and vomit.
My out-of-state friends are all gone and no one who still lives in-state has the motivation or energy or time to make plans for us... least of all me. I can't do this anymore, but maybe I can quietly suffer with my anxiety if I'm living close to a few friends in an apartment where I can be happy and have silence once in awhile. I'm not convinced that I will thrive anywhere, ever, but I have to try, right?
