I can't stand it anymore. I'm so bored I'm ready to jump out of my skin. UGH!!!!!

Because stupid cell phone pics always cheer me up (and because I am too apathetic to write a real entry today).

Pancake FAIL (courtesy of Robert being stoned and the First Pancake Phenomenon).

Riesen FAIL (courtesy of Nick never cleaning his car, and allowing this old-person candy to melt on his dashboard).

Man-vag FAIL #1 (courtesy of guy on bus).

Man-vag FAIL #2 (courtesy of same guy, same pants, same cup, same position, same seat, different day).

Photo whore #2

     
Yes, I'm a crazy cat lady for taking this photo. At least I only have one cat though.

This was stuck to the sidewalk on my way to work a couple of days ago. I went to the website, and apparently Dragon Piss is something left over from 4:20; it's glass and acrylic cleaner so you can keep those pipes and bongs clean. I actually want some. Bonus: they have a link for Marijuana Radio on their site. Hahaha.

Flowers my mom sent me at work for Admin Professionals Day. Very sweet of her, and they are so springy and fresh!

I'm going to have to read all of the American Library Association's Top Ten Most Frequently Challenged Books of 2008, just because there are people out there who think I shouldn't. It didn't escape my attention that 3/10 of these books are considered unsuitable because they contain "homosexuality". Wtf.

1. And Tango Makes
   Three, by Justin
   Richardson and Peter Parnell
   Reasons: anti-ethnic, anti-family,
   homosexuality, religious viewpoint, unsuited to age group
2. His Dark
   Materials trilogy, by
   Philip Pullman
   Reasons: political viewpoint, religious viewpoint, violence
   
3. TTYL; TTFN; L8R,
   G8R (series), by
   Lauren Myracle
   Reasons: offensive language, sexually explicit, unsuited to
   age group
4. Scary
   Stories (series), by
   Alvin Schwartz
   Reasons: occult/satanism, religious viewpoint, violence
   
5. Bless Me,
   Ultima, by Rudolfo
   Anaya
   Reasons: occult/satanism, offensive language, religious viewpoint,
   sexually explicit, violence
6. The Perks of
   Being a Wallflower, by Stephen
   Chbosky (already read it)
   Reasons: drugs, homosexuality, nudity, offensive language, sexually
   explicit, suicide, unsuited to age group
7. Gossip
   Girl (series), by
   Cecily von Ziegesar
   Reasons: offensive language, sexually explicit, unsuited
   to age group
8. Uncle Bobby's
   Wedding, by Sarah S.
   Brannen
   Reasons: homosexuality, unsuited to age group
9. The Kite
   Runner, by Khaled
   Hosseini
   Reasons: offensive language, sexually explicit, unsuited to age
   group
10. Flashcards of My
    Life, by Charise
    Mericle Harper
    Reasons: sexually explicit, unsuited to age
    group

Anyone else involved with intellectual freedom/censorship?

Well, shit. I got a full 8 hours of sleep, and 9-10 hours on Friday and Saturday nights, but here I am bleary-eyed and exhausted. Wtf.

There are 3 weeks of school left. This scares the living shit out of me. I don't understand Java code worth a damn, and everything in my CIS class from here until the end is nothing but writing, debugging, compiling, and testing Java. It's going to get increasingly difficult, too, and that's enough to make me want to piss my pants. I don't want this class to get the better of me or make me want to give up, but something just isn't clicking. I asked for help from my professor, and she never even responded. UGH.

Also, my computer is totally fucked. I stored my music on an external hard drive, because I had close to 4,000 songs and it was getting crazy slow. Well, after turning on my computer yesterday, I realized that all but a few hundred of the songs are completely gone. They are still on my iPod, but wtf happened?

...

Oh god. I 'm too scared to see if my photos are gone too. That's actually worth freaking out over. I can't lose my photos. I thought everything would be SAFE on another drive. Someone please come over and hold my hand and tell me it will be ok, and do a system restore on my computer so all the bad shit is magically gone. Please?

And oh yeah. Happy 4:20. I should be working all day and night on some Java shit, but I'm going to squeeze in a bowl and Pineapple Express tonight. If nothing else, it will be a temporary relaxation/escape thing, which I need, because I'm so goddamned high strung.

Warning: This is a very long post. Drinks and snacks are recommended, as is a mid-post bathroom break (for all you old people who have bladders the size of grapes). Kudos to anyone who actually reads the whole thing. Seriously.

2001: 8 Years Ago...

Bad poetry pretty much sums it up. When I started this blog, I posted a bunch of my (shitty, angsty, teen) poetry from high school. Example:

Scars

Cold bathroom, hard floor, sharp knife, locked door.
Broken skin, blood runs down, on the floor, all around.
I look at my torn flesh and cry, all I ask of you is why.
As time goes by my skin starts healing, how can it be I'm still not feeling?
I think as I stare at all my scars, my heart is still locked behind your bars.

I Believe

I believe in summer days and green grass under blue skies;
birds singing, children swinging, and pretty butterflies.

I believe in the moon and the stars and the firefly's glow at night;

happy couples holding each other close in the mists of a romantic
twilight.

I believe in true love and that some things are meant to be.
I know we'll be together because I believe in you and me.

I know that deep down inside you believe in these things too;
so I
beg you please don't give up on me, I haven't given up on you.

Haha. These were written 5 days apart. Talk about bipolar, eh? Good times. I was also obsessed with writing a book (which never happened), busy dropping out of college, still actually watching Dawson's Creek with my girlfriends, told by my therapist at the time that I was recovered (she thought I just needed to be away from my crazy family), didn't take note of 4/20 being 4:20 yet, in love with Mark Hoppus (from Blink 182), the color pink, and leopard print anything, got stuck with the nickname Munchie, knew the words to boy band and pop teen queen songs, smoked cloves because I thought it was cool (and I used those long cigarette holder thingies, à la Cruella DeVil), fought all the time with my mother and sister, finally moved to Denver, got a job as a travel agent, and got my very first apartment, started becoming an activist for the gay community, went through a weird roommate situation (and omg he was into FOOT porn), started drinking a lot (because my friends could get alcohol, and that's what we did), got into Marilyn Manson and decided to freak my mom out by telling her I was a member of the Church of Satan, started calling people sheep and lemmings, decided I wanted to be "different" (by acting just like all the other "different" people), got into the goth thing, started becoming really bitter toward the concept of love and happiness, and felt homesick all at the same time.

This was a dark year full of yo-yoing mood swings despite all my nods to girly silliness like bubblegum pink nail polish and a penchant for rainbow-striped toe socks: growing pains of all kinds, missed school and home, hated the ghetto neighborhood I lived in, felt like I couldn't hack it on my own, another shitty roommate situation, tried heroin and liked it a little too much, totally emo music, considering running away to Seattle, hung out in coffee shops and did some serious brooding, shifted from job to job, felt like I didn't fit in anywhere, drank all the time, turned 21, got a job after months of being unemployed, moved to a new apartment in a better area and directly below my friends, started getting into meth pretty heavily (and got way overboard way fast), was already sick of 9/11 rehashing bullshit, hated American Idol (and still do!), did a lot of drunken karaoke, and got a new computer (which I only mention because I STILL HAVE AND USE IT!). Pretty much all my friends at this point were gay. I pirated MP3s like nobody's business.

I felt like this a lot:

One of my biggest partying years of all time. I was addicted to meth, drinking all the time (can anyone say King's Cup parties?), smoking weed, taking any pills I could get my hands on, doing ecstasy, shrooms, coke, and K, and pretty much being a fuck-up (while amazingly still holding down a job and paying my bills on time...most of the time). I frequently went to work hung over or still drunk, and smoked meth in the bathrooms on my breaks. It was bad. I also made a transition from one group of friends to another (and it was rocky for awhile), went to tons of concerts, grew to hate George W. Bush with the fire of a thousand suns, had a blizzard slumber party (which basically involved drinking, getting high, playing in the snow, movies, sleeping, and sex), started driving, spending, and fucking recklessly, got fired, had an extremely debaucherous trip to New York, finally went to Disney World and found out it was not the happiest place on earth, felt pretty devastated when Elliott Smith died, took a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Juarez, and finally moved to an apartment in Denver (with a roommate).

A quote from my "secret" journal, the one I kept to talk about drugs:

The consequences of my bad choices started to sink in....hard. I started to pull my life together, but it wasn't easy. I began cutting back a little on the bar scene, but was still drinking and doing other drugs and bouncing from job to job. I dealt with my dad's second divorce from a crazy banshee and tons of extreme family drama, had bouts of awful insomnia, became crazy attached to my camera, my great-grandma died, started getting really political and anti-war, went on an epic road trip to end all road trips, got laid off just in time to finally get the job I still have today, became obsessed with Napoleon Dynamite (my lips hurt real bad!), got photo crazy, watched in horrified dismay as Bush was elected for a second term, finally stopped doing meth, but watched as my sister got further and further into the whole scene, had the worst roommate drama ever culminating in paying rent on an expensive 2-bedroom apartment alone, lawyers, and so much stress I'm still pissed off about it.

This entry cracked me up:

This year I did more to turn my life around, including returning to school to get my bachelor's degree and making a real attempt to get back into therapy and on medication. The run-around with this would go on for several years, but I think it was still a big step. The medication thing was a nightmare (most of the meds made me very ill and I was nauseated and/or throwing up about 20% of every day), and I tried about everything to make myself feel better. It also made it increasingly difficult to drink or do chemical drugs like ecstasy, etc., so the use of those tapered off slowly but surely. I did, however, still get high quite a bit (and made my first-ever pot brownies!), did lots of shrooms, moved into a new apartment (1 bedroom, same building), went through an '80s hair-crimping phase (OMG yes), discovered and fell in love with Dance Dance Revolution, started working out semi-regularly, made photo posts on Xanga like nobody's business, went through the death of my great-grandfather, started backing out of social events (especially crowded ones like concerts) because of anxiety, stopped watching tv completely (that lasted about a year), discovered the joys of vibrators (and officially stopped having sex), started getting my credit back in order,  fell in love with PostSecret, watched sadly as my sister became more and more addicted to meth and went down a really awful shame spiral, admitted my part in her drug use (I did meth with her and bought meth from her), had a bit of a wake-up call when a friend from high school and her baby died in a fire, bought a pair of Crocs (I know, I know...), became addicted to internet Scrabble, played drunken Candyland (and pouted when I lost hahaha), totally hated the summer (106 degrees, $3/gallon gas, Katrina), my hair started falling out from some weird polycystic ovary thing caused by meds I took, peed my pants when Denver voted to legalize marijuana, started officially boycotting Walmart, had crazy mood swings by the minute, hour, day, and week, and had to cut my sister out of my life until she became less crazy.

I had some moments of reflection about my troubles, and where I was vs. where I wanted to be. I wrote stuff like this:

And, of course, I decided that I hated men and was not having sex ever again (which, so far, has worked...except for this private entry I came across):

This was a really tough year with moods (lots of depression, anxiety, irritability, anger, hopelessness, violent thoughts, and wishing I were dead), meds, and just trying to get myself stabilized so I could make progress in my life. Everything seemed to get to me, and I was skipping too much work and really not dealing with anything appropriately at all. I also developed a nice little eating disorder (bulimia) and lost 60 pounds while fucking up my body and destroying all my self-esteem, decided to buy a condo, but backed out because I couldn't make the commitment yet, discovered 3-D porn at the midnight movies (YES!), saw Imogen Heap live (amazing...), started feeling a sense of separation between my friends and myself (partly because my behavior pushed people away and partly because I wanted to break free from that party lifestyle which they had no intention of stopping), broke one vibrator in half while using it, and melted another (wtf? haha!), got caught shoplifting (it was an accident, but I still had to go to court, pay fines, and take classes...so humiliating), had surgery to remove a cyst from my wrist, saw Snakes on a Plan (best movie ever), went to Casa Bonita for Ron's birthday and it was every bit as bad as I'd hoped, went through a falling out of sorts with my oldest friend, had a rockin' Halloween party, was pissed when we reelected Musgrave, turned down Ref I and passed Amendment 43 (although we finally got a Democratic governor and House), really got into the spirit of the holidays (including the depression and malaise), froze my ass off at the Parade of Lights (doing that once was enough for a lifetime, thanks), got a couple of snow days because of a storm (omg yes), and ended the year on a low note by taking ecstasy on New Year's Eve. I got so sick I threw up all the next day and had to take a rectal suppository. Oh boy.

It seemed like most days went like this:

This year my mental state was - surprise - really shitty, and I got sick a lot. I started the year off with a lovely case of food poisoning that had me in bed for days and caused me to vomit in the sink of an Indian food restaurant and, later, shart the bed. I got a kick-ass tax return, but spent a lot of time feeling horribly depressed or "sad-manic", separate from my friends, and frustrated at being more of a grown up than everyone else, had to drop one of my spring semester classes because I couldn't take the stress (and felt like a loo-hoo-ser), started loathing my boss more than can be expressed because she became increasingly annoying, micro-managing, and incompetent, cut myself for the first time in 2 years, went back into therapy but did too much too fast and had a horrible experience (including people at work gossiping and making life extremely difficult for me), desperately wanted to take a leave of absence from work and go to in-patient therapy but the cost of "breaking down" was too great, got to see The Shins live (remember, Nick? sigh...), started donating blood, got banned from the Pickwick Society blogring because my site had "questionable content" (any of you old-timers remember that?), finally started to deal with being raped as a teenager, celebrated when Jerry Falwell died, took a break from therapy after it got too hard - and expensive - to handle, started doing some writing for the GLBT student services newsletter at my school, saw a lot of movies and did a lot of spring/summer stuff, developed achilles tendonitis/bursitis/bone spurs in my left foot (oww), noticed some big changes happening at work and most of them sucked, started playing around with video blogging, both of my parents were officially in their 50s, had another rockin' Halloween party (I was Tracy Turnblad from Hairspray, which I was obsessed about for months), went on the most fabulous Hawaiian vacation EVER, then promptly fell into a depression as soon as I returned home. Gained a ton of weight back too.

This about sums it up:

This year was full of changes, and all in all, it completely sucked. Even worse than many of the previous years. I was so lonely and started feeling the urge to quit my job and move back home, plus I had major baby fever; I nursed these feelings by visiting home like every fucking weekend. I spent a lot of time with my dad for the first time in my life, got really involved in the presidential election, had the most depressing semester of school ever (seriously, don't take Native American History with a Women's Social Work class; just don't), went through major changes with friends when Ron and Jerry broke up and moved into separate places, struggled (again) with finding the right meds and doses, Ron was in the hospital several times, I had to pay $3600 for a new engine in my car, hurt my knee (again), had an unfair and difficult professor for one of my courses, had a kick-ass Memorial Day party, went to my first-ever bachelor's party, went to my cousin's wedding and Greg/Paige's wedding, was the target of a witch hunt at work (yay), wrote angry letters to local papers about the lack of Gay Pride coverage, went back to therapy (this time with an eating disorder doctor who I fell in love with) and finally started to get somewhere, got official diagnoses of Mood Disorder (NOS), Sleep Disorder (NOS), and Bulimia Nervosa, had (pretty much) a low-key birthday because my nerves were way too shot for anything else, our family dog died, the Democratic National Convention was in Denver (which was both irritating and exciting), came down with vertigo, saw a boy have a grand mal seizure and it terrified me, had to move into a new cubicle at work during what turned out to be a building-wide move from hell, peed my pants when Obama was elected President, lost even more faith in humanity when someone was trampled to death on Black Friday, developed an odd obsession with the Twilight books and movie, pretty much just went through the motions for the holidays rather than really getting in the spirit, got honey-colored contacts, and watched as my father's job hunts continued to be fruitless, my sister's life got more trainwrecky and my mom's obsession with the asshole she loves got more alarming.

The whole year was basically this:

So far, this year has been trying, but I'm strong enough to get through it all. I've dealt with friends being ill and fighting and changing and going away, scary bad economy stuff, the loss of another family pet, passive-aggressive neighbors, major issues and breakthroughs in therapy, extremely challenging classes in school, and family issues out the wazoo. But all in all, things are better for me, even if the world isn't less crazy. Things at work are going very well for me. I stopped bingeing and purging completely. I even started fleshing out some hobbies: I bought a guitar and started learning to play (it's going very slowly), started a vintage jewelry project (selling stuff on Etsy), will be doing a photo digitization project for my grandmother soon, and am going to learn more about drawing/sketching. I'm learning that I am strong and capable and even - sometimes - a person that people can look up to. I can handle anything that comes my way.

It's overcast and will be raining pretty much all day, and my hair sucks, and I haven't a thing to wear, and did I mention I have to go to TWO family Easter meals (a brunch with mom's side and a lunch with dad's side)?

That aside, I feel pretty ok today.

I hope everyone has a nice Easter.

My super-mega-long Xangaversary post has been delayed. After getting through years 2001-2005, I was totally triggered and freaked and just did NOT want to review my past for even a second longer than was necessary. So, while that post is still forthcoming, it will be coming forth later than I had originally anticipated.

I was in a great mood...but some extreme anxiety, irritability, and anger rage just kicked in, right as I was picking Ron up from the hospital. Maybe part of it was a manifestation of my worry for him, but some of that was pure chemical imbalance. Everything looks fucking ugly and sounds fucking annoying. I've been fantasizing about screaming as loud as I can in the crowded places we went to: the hospital, the pharmacy, the grocery store. I thought about how great it would be to throw a chair at someone's face, or kick in the glass to the exit door, or even just get in a screaming match with Ron, because he was the nearest person.

Now I feel remorseful because I should have held it in better, been nice to him since he has been sick, tried to shield him from this bullshit they call a mood swing. I am shaking from the intensity of  it all. My heart is racing and my head is pounding. I want to puke.

When did everything start to fucking suck?!?

Profanity count: 5

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My Xangaversary was on Saturday. I've officially been blogging on Xanga since March 28, 2001: that's eight years to you non-mathy folks.

Today is too busy to reflect on how much I've changed and grown in that time, but a nice long post about that is coming soon.