Heavy with the Weight of God's Damnation

I (finally) finished Lamb. It's wonderful. I want everyone to read it and love it as I do.

Can't Sleep

I can't sleep (as is evident by the title of this post. I felt the need to emphasize.). I miss my boyfriend. I miss my cat. I miss my bed. I don't particularly miss our loud upstairs neighbors who apparently think that moving furniture while wearing tap shoes is a grand idea, but the other stuff makes up for this one. Alack, alas.

Why is it that since I got out of the hospital everyone feels the need to tell me "don't do that again"? I can't tell you how many times I've heard "You really scared me/us. Don't do that again." I mean, I get it. I'm loved, everyone was worried and scared. But guys, it's not like I thought that getting my blood sugar over 700 would allow me to travel through time. If that was the case, then no, I wouldn't do that again. This was an accident; it was a weird combination of random events that caused me to get very very sick. Can't promise that's not going to happen again. Sorry, but it's true.

Ok, I'm done.

I'm sorry. I know you guys love me. I'm just venting. After all, it is 3 am. I'm officially allowed. Look it up. I dare you.

I Think You Should Be Aware of This Stuff

Cool video for those of us who dig Gmail.
Brave women defying custom. More here.
Very moving story by Anderson Cooper.
Travel advisory from the Miami Herald.
"Puritan Politics." This shit just makes me angry.

If You Haven't Already

See Rent.

Do it. You'll love it.

La Vie Boheme

Too Much?

The problem with getting sick is that it messes up all your plans. I am supposed to be done with my first semester of grad school by now. I'm supposed to have all of that under my belt and be concentrating on what to get whom for Christmas. Instead, I'm worrying about make-up work and finals and when/how I'm going to get this done. I also have the cute little quirk of trying to do everything at once all by myself. I'm a horrible judge of "realistically, can I do this?" That's my conundrum now. I feel able to jump back into things, but my gut is nagging me not to. I don't like this. I want to be 100%. I should be back into it. I just feel like I'm laying around all day doing nothing and failing everything.

Being sick sucks.

And Now, As They Say, the Rest of the Story

Well, if you haven't heard by now, you're probably living in a cave stealing internet service and don't really know what a "blog" is.

If that's true - welcome, welcome to my blog.

If not - I've been a little sick. And by a little, I mean I'm typing this from my hospital bed.

Let's back up.

I was moderately sick almost all of last week. One of those "it's getting cold and it's finals time, so I'd better get sick" things. I didn't have to go in to school on Monday and I stayed home on Tuesday because I was still feeling sick. Wednesday I felt much better. I went to school, felt a little dizzy walking to my office, but I figured it was just because I hadn't gotten out and about for a few days. Thursday comes around and I feel worse than ever. So I stayed home - and puked my guts out all day. Ok, I know what you're thinking "come on, puking all day? Right." No really. No one has ever spoken this statement and meant it more than I do right now. I counted. I threw up 6 times on Thursday. I couldn't keep anything down; I was afraid to brush my teeth because I thought some of the toothpaste would trickle down my gullet and cause me to projectile vomit all over the bathroom mirror. I threw up three times because I drank a bottle of water. By time 4 I knew I was getting dehydrated. Sam was at work, so when he called to check on me I had a laundry list of dehydration-preventing supplies - gatorade, ginger ale, popsicles, etc. By the time he got home, I had passed the 5 vomit mark. I think my exact words when I got off the phone with him were "I have to let you go now - I need to throw up again." And I did. By this time, my throat and teeth were rotting away because of all the stomach acid I was pushing through them (not really, but it felt like it). The rest of the evening went relatively smoothly; I was able to drink quite a bit of gatorade and water and only reach a cool half dozen trips to the toilet. (Side note - I got so tired of going back and forth to the bathroom that I made myself a sad little pallet on the bathroom floor and bonded with a hand towel that became my pillow for quite a while. I even made a special place on the floor under the other towels for easy reachability when I was lying on the floor. And I named him Hank.)

So, it becomes night time and I'm exhausted, what with all the heaving, so I go to bed. This is when it really starts to get interesting folks. Sam stays up for a while, because it's probably only about 9:30 and decides to make a pallet for himself on the floor so it'll wake him up when I (inevitably) stumble out of bed in need of fluids or the toilet or something. Two things he fails to take into consideration: 1. The man has slept through gunfire and didn't even roll over. No joke - ask him about it. 2. Almost the minute I fell asleep I started hallucinating. Hard core, psychedelic, I have no idea what's real and what's not hallucinations. Now, for those of you who don't know - I am a dream believer. I've had many mornings where I woke up and it took about 15 minutes for me to realize that I didn't win the lotto and buy everything I wanted. That happens a lot. These weren't dreams. I think there was something about minions or a crew and I'm pretty sure I thought I was Elphaba for most of the night (if you don't know -SHAME! Look it up.)

Once the hallucinations started, my memory goes fuzzy as the next events. I do remember several things happening: I got up several times for the bathroom and wound up falling asleep on the floor with my feet in the tub and my head on Hank (see above reference). And, I think this happened last, I ran out of water and decided I could get it myself. Turns out I couldn't and wound up passing out on the kitchen floor for about 30 minutes. After I woke up, I yelled for Sam and he, looking very panicked and confused and to how/why I was in the kitchen on the floor, helped me get water and got me back to bed.

After this, it was Saturday. I have no remembrance of Friday. I lost Friday. For an account of Friday, see Sam's posts.

The next thing I remember is waking up with tubes coming out every which way and being asked hard questions like "where are you?" and "what day is it?" (I got the first one right, at the next one, I apparently looked at the person asking and replied in my best 'I-just-woke-up-from-a-coma-you-jackass' tone "I don't know." I'm pretty sure that if I had been able to move, I would have done the Dane Cook "Ohmygod *snif* I'm late!" move, except mine wouldn't have been ohmygod, I slept through work, it would have gone something like "Ohmygod! *Snif* I slept through Friday!" What kind of excuse do you have for sleeping through an entire day?? I can't even try to pull off an excuse. I should skip right to dumping on his chest. (Again, if you don't know - SHAME!!)

So, I stayed in ICU until Sunday when they rolled me up to the regular ward where I met my new roomie the incredible farting, snoring, gotta-watch-four-hours-of-soaps-and-informercials-all day 91 year old woman who has the incredibly endearing quirk of yelling "BATHROOM" everytime she needs a nurse to help her use the bathroom. Which, don't get me wrong, isn't actually in the bathroom where you can shut the door - nay friend. Her personal toilet is 2 feet from my bed. Literally, if (god forbid) I drew back the curtain I would be face to freaking face with her poop pot. (Elaine, I don't think I've told you lately that you were a joy to live with. Thank you for not pooping near my bed.)

Now, I'm all set and ready to go home (which they should let me do tomorrow). The only reason I had to stay today, is that I've had a low to moderate grade fever since I got here (which probably had something to do with the fact that my white blood cells were inside my body going "what?!? Are you kidding us here? Let's just watch - let's see what happens here, guys.")

I finally got my sense of humor back today. I've heard it's the last to give up and the last to return. (I just made that up, but it's pretty good, right? Ah, screw you.) If they don't let me go tomorrow, I'm gonna have to resort to some hard core charming. I've been periodically making mental notes of witty things to say:

"No, it's not a fever - I'm just this hot!"

That's all I've got. I think of others while waiting for the vampires to come steal my blood away at all crazy hours of the night.

UPDATE: I just realized I referenced something that I didn't actually post about, but emailed Amanda about. The last two nights I haven't slept much at all (probably about 3 hours each) and I think it has something to do with the fact that the nurses and orderlies think 2-4:30 is the optimal time to draw blood. So I just sit here, waiting, knowing they're going to come in, flip the overhead light on, and sing-song that familiar "time to take some blood Ms. Jackson!" as soon as I close my eyes.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!

It's official - it's Christmas time! The tree has gone up and is decorated. Isn't it beautiful? It took us almost all day Sunday to decide on and find decorations for our new tree.

Phoebe loves the tree. When it's lit up, she sits under it like she's a cute little present. But, of course, it's all for her...

List 'O Doom

So, Bill O'Reilly's blacklist of "Media Operations that Traffic in Defamation" is up. And, well... I've gotta say that I'm really very disappointed. I was really hoping for some new reading materials, but the list is... uninspiring. So far, only the New York Times, The St. Petersburg Times, and MSNBC have made the list. Come on, O'Reilly! You can do better than that! I mean, one of them is a rival TV station for crying out loud! And did you really have to stretch to list the Times? Was that one a suprise to anyone? Have a little imagination!

Apparently these are the "worst offenders" of the "media operations [that] have regularly helped distribute defamation and false information supplied by far left websites." But have no fear, "In the months to come, we expect to add more names to this list." Bill also recommends "that you do not patronize these operations and that advertisers do the same. They are dishonest and not worth your time and money."

(Don't worry, I've linked to all of them above in case you do believe that they are worth your time and money.)

It's Much Worse Than We Thought, Folks

How do you tell someone that they are truly making the worst mistakes of their lives? How do you convince them of this when the only person that they listen to is saying completely the opposite?

You know it's bad when a die-hard feminist as myself wants to grab this person by the shirt and yell "Grow a pair!! Learn to think for yourself!!"

Out of respect for this person's family, who I love and care for dearly, this is all I will say on the matter. However, I can only bite my tongue for so much longer before I taste blood.

Here's To You, Mr. President

Esquire Magazine has named former President Bill Clinton as the world's most influential man. They have designated him as "the most powerful agent of change in the world" and highlights his accomplishments in the December issue. According to the Reuters article:

Since leaving office, Clinton has been so active that his post-presidency amounts to "a third term" for the Democrat who held the White House from 1992 to 2000, the magazine said. He has tackled global issues from AIDS, poverty and global warming to the recovery from last December's Indian Ocean tsunami.

I saw someone reading it on the plane flying to Arkansas. I'll probably write more about it after I read it.

Glorious

There are no words.

Thanks to A Socialite's Life for this.

Ugg, Just... Ugg

Welcome back to the dark ages, folks. According to The Guardian Unlimited (emphasis mine):

The lord chancellor and the director of public prosecutions are to be asked to look into a rape case which collapsed yesterday after the alleged victim told the jury she was unconscious from too much drink and could not remember what happened.

The prosecution dropped the case after the woman's cross-examination, saying "drunken consent is still consent". The judge directed the jury to find the defendant not guilty "even if you don't agree".

So, to recap - the judge in this case told the jury to find the defendant not guilty because the victim was drunk and couldn't remember what happened. This is blaming the victim to the nth degree. She was drunk so it's alright. This is one of the most disgusting arguements I've ever heard - "personal responsibility" which basically states if the victim is drunk, it's his/her fault but if the defendant is drunk, s/he didn't know what s/he was doing. How does that work? How does that make any sense?!?

One giant leap backwards for humankind.

Clash of the Titans

Oprah and David Letterman's long standing feud is about to be history! Oprah has accepted Letterman's long-standing invitation to be a guest on the show. The date has been set as December 1st and will probably not be as exciting as all of us Letterman fans are hoping, but I plan on watching it anyway.

Micheal Brown: Disaster Consultant

No, this is no joke. Former FEMA director Micheal Brown is starting a disaster preparedness consulting firm. So, let me get this straight - he's starting a consulting firm to help prepare firms for disasters.

Brown said officials need to "take inventory" of what's going on in a disaster to be able to answer questions to avoid appearing unaware of how serious a situation is.

Really? Hmmm...

"Hurricane Katrina showed how bad disasters can be, and there's an incredible need for individuals and businesses to understand how important preparedness is," he said.

Yes, yes it did. But... wait... weren't you the one who weren't prepared? Wasn't it you, Mr. Brown, who had no idea what to do during the worst natural disaster to affect the United States? And now you think you're qualified to get paid to tell people how to prepare for disasters?

Yes, yes, I'm sure you'll have loads of clients.

Shout it Loud, Sister Friend

Shakespear's Sister has such an amazing post about US Weekly's cover on Angelina Jolie that I must share it. To quote:

... I truly cannot believe that a magazine had the audacity to suggest on its cover that a woman who is a successful, intelligent, self-sufficient single mother to two children (pictured, by the way, taking her son to a museum), not to mention one of the most highly paid people in her field and a UN good will ambassador, who can fly an airplane, has multiple citizenships, and has won top awards in her profession, ought to get married for any reason.

A marriage certificate is no guarantee that people will stay together forever, anyway, nor that married parents automatically make better parents—two points to which anyone with two brain cells knocking together can surely acquiesce. So what bloody reason is there to imply Angelina should get married, aside from the lingering puritanism that likes to pretend only healthy children are raised in “traditional families” and the indelible sexism that still regards an unmarried woman as incomplete, no matter how successful and fulfilled she is?

Perhaps the only thing at which Angelina hasn’t been successful is marriage. So maybe she’s gun-shy; maybe she’s decided marriage isn’t for her; maybe she just doesn’t give a rat’s ass about convention, considering she will likely never have to be concerned with the financial protections marriage provides to most mothers and children; maybe they’re already secretly married. Whatever her reason, it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference, because none of it has any bearing on her ability to be a good mother, which, by all accounts, she is.

Can I get an Amen?!

See it all here.

Domestic Violence (Finally) in the News

The WHO (the World Health Organization, not the band) has just released the results of a huge domestic violence study. The findings are, apparently, huge and one of the first of it's kind.

The first-ever World Health Organization (WHO) study on domestic violence reveals that intimate partner violence is the most common form of violence in womenÂ’s lives - much more so than assault or rape by strangers or acquaintances. The study reports on the enormous toll physical and sexual violence by husbands and partners has on the health and well-being of women around the world and the extent to which partner violence is still largely hidden.

While I'm incrediblygratefull and thankful that worldwide attention is being paid to the issue of domestic violence, it makes me think "duh." Domestic violence is a horrifically widespread problem and has been for way too long. That people are astonished by the rates this report gives astonishes me. How do people not realize how many women are abused by their partners? It just makes me sad how people turn a blind eye to the more important issues.

On that note, it makes me want to shoot myself that on Google News, this story has 114 related stories while Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey's divorce has 413 related stories.

Indie Chick

The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times.Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness! Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Sweet! Where's the Cash?

My blog is worth $564.54.
much is your blog worth?

Cold...Grumble Grumble Grumble...

I hate cold weather. In fact, I loathe being cold. I try desperately to deny that winter exists by warding it off by wearing flip-flops 9 out of the 12 months of the year. I hate having to dress like that kid from A Christmas Story to go outside only to have to strip to my skivvies because it's so hot once I get inside (since someone has turned the heat up to 'Bake' because no one can stand the cold.)

Now, before you Northern-types get all huffy with "Cold? You call that cold?!?" let me just say yes. Yes I do call this cold. I am from the South, I live in the South, I like Southern temperatures. (Can a sister get an amen?) Keep your near freezing wind chills - I'd rather have suffocating humidity. And don't give me that "you can put more clothes on if you're cold but you can't take more clothes off if you're hot" crap. Yes you can. And you can also have iced drinks, swimming pools, and other fun cool down activities when it's hot. During winter what do you have? Huddling in front of the fire trying to ward off hypothermia. Fun.

I'm like a tropical plant. Once it gets around 50 degrees, I've gotta stay inside with a blanket wrapped around me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go gather nuts for my hibernation. I'll see you in Spring.

30 Glorious Facts

How have I never seen this site before yesterday?? How is this possible? The hours I spend wading through crap site after crap site and I never came across this gem? Simply atrocious.

Without further adieu, I give you The Top 30 Facts About Chuck Norris. Some of my favorites:

Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

Chuck Norris was the fourth Wiseman. He brought baby Jesus the gift of "beard". Jesus wore it proudly to his dying day. The other Wisemen, jealous of Jesus' obvious gift favoritism, used their combined influence to have Chuck omitted from the Bible. Shortly after all three died of roundhouse kick related deaths.

Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.

The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

There is also The Top 30 Vin Diesel Facts (When Vin Diesel goes to donate blood, he declines the syringe, and instead requests a hand gun and a bucket.) and The Top 30 Mr. T Facts (23. That's the number of people Mr. T has pitied in the time it has taken you to read this sentence.)

You can vote for random Chuck Norris, Vin Diesel, and Mr. T facts or submit your own.

I promise that you will spend no less than one hour on this site. It's more addicting than meth.