Friday, April 29, 2005

Jemima's First Friday List

Things I Don't Like Hearing from Doctors
1. Ooooh, That is NASTY! (from ER doctor)
2. This will hurt a little, but don't jump. (As dr. comes at me with huge needle)
3. Why do you think your foot is still so swollen?
4. What did the tendons LOOK like before the surgeon stitched everything back? (How the fuck should I know? They looked painful, jackass!)
5. Are you taking anything for the pain? How 'bout some nice Motrin! (How bout I stick a crutch up your ass and you prescribe me some Percoset.)
6. See this tissue here that I'm persistently poking with my sharp metal instrument, this is all going to have be removed and we'll need a skin graft, and...you really need to stop shaking, because it makes my pointy sharp torture device jump around.
7. Why are you so nervous?
8. At least four more weeks...
9. Increased antiobiotics...
10. "Can you feel that....?"

Note from Alexandrialeigh: Since I'm posting these for Jemima, I can totally sneak in a plug for my own blog because my Friday list has grown a life of its own! Kelly Love and Jemima have both joined the bandwagon!

Thursday, April 28, 2005

I’m feeling much better since writing that extremely depressing post last time—thanks, Al, for posting it for me. I had anticipated being online with my newly installed cable internet and multiple TV channels (I have succumbed at last, for the first time in 28years, to the lure of cable television. God give me strength.) However, Fat Roy arrived at my apartment, where I hobbled after his malodorous man-boob self on my crutches, until he finally announced that I would be getting no cable TV today, thank you very little, without a letter from my landlord. WTF? That wouldhave been helpful to know BEFOREHAND! So I had to reschedule for next week. I have little hope that it will get done, after the debacle of the DSL line and Fat Roy (who was also drunk), but maybe someday I willbe able to blog again on a regular basis. Because this blogstinence is killing me. It’s scheduled for Tuesday this time. Stay tuned.

I have been out two nights in a row for potato soup infused with truffle oil (I have sex dreams about this soup, people) plus martinis and a bottle of champagne last night. And getting out of the house is doing wonders for my disposition. Getting up my stairs withone foot was actually kind of amusing, although it’s a miracle I didn’t impale myself on a crutch…also miraculous that I am not hungover as hell.

Night before last too, A.S. took me to the same place for soup and wine and mussels aioli with pommes frites (so deleeecious) and I nearly ate myself to death. Which is great since I am not running, walking, moving, etc. Anyway, we were chatting away, happy to be together since he is so busy, and he said, “When I have a bachelor party, I'm just going to go surfing in Mexico with four of my guy friends.” I nearly choked on my moules. He told me two weeks ago that marriage didn’t make him nervous anymore, and that sort off confirmed it. Wow. Still, he has another year of school, so I’m not poking at that issue too much for at least another nine months.

And that nine months has nothing to do with the woman’s gestational cycle, so no one get any big ideas. (Hmph!)

And my sweet baby cousin brought me the nicest, most thoughtful present ever yesterday. She hurt her foot and put her dog to sleep last year too, and she said she was just sitting at home feeling bored andmiserable, so she made me a goody bag with all the stuff she wished she had: two chocolate bars (including Toblerone), popcorn (which I secretly hate, but it was still nice) a movie, a book of word games, a card and a pretty yellow daisy. Isn’t that the best thing you’ve ever heard? I nearly cried.

Today I MIGHT be getting my stitches out, although since I am still bleeding through 16 layers of gauze and bandages as of yesterday, I think those chances are slim. Doubtless my cruel, heartless, sadist of an orthopedist will just make me cry and I will go home to rot as usual. (sigh…. SIGH!) And to make matters even worse, it has come to my attention that I am not getting Jennifer Garner arms from all this crutching up and down four flights of stairs, etc. Instead my arms are just getting BIGGER. Oh the humanity! Oh the awful unfairness of it all!

So today I am trying to come up with Spanish media contacts. Sheesh. How the hell am I supposed to do that?

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

April is the cruelest month

Today has been a day of disappointments. Not true. More like the whole month. Let me start with the grimness of the morning, however, because as bad as everything else has been, today is foremost on my mind.

I woke up in much the same start I went to bed. Frightened, ill, worried for the next doctor’s appointment. Starting to feel like a paranoid, or at least a dyspeptic, I woke A.S. and summoned him to my apartment, where I wallow in my uncomfortable bed, lonely because it’s too many stairs to go down for me, and too many for most of my friends to come up. I’ve always kept all of my tension in my stomach, and it has been roiling for well over a week now. He calmed me a bit, although this mood I’ve been in lately doesn’t leave much room for cheering.

The shape of my foot seemed pretty sad, considering most of the skin around the wound had turned black. I spent several hours yesterday removing the last of the bandages, which took a surprising amount of nerve and gag control I never knew I had. The size of the cut isn’t all that large actually, and the skin on my toes and the top of my arch has reattached itself at least, although my toes are still quite large and bruised and sore. But that distorted dead flesh across the width of my foot was disturbing and hopeless and all night long I was conscious of it down there at the end of the bed, making my belly churn and my heart pound.

I was glad I’d gone ahead and done it though, since I don’t think I could have stood the doctor tearing off the gauze again. I figure I can’t control much right now, but I can damn well control my own pain. So he cut off the dead skin, which I couldn’t watch. Then he cleaned the whole area, and that made me want to faint. There was granulated skin under it all, which was actually miraculous, and means I’ll likely avoid the skin graft scenario I’d been dreading so much. And perhaps I’ll be off crutches sometime next month. It’ll be nice to go outside again.

I just feel so trapped. I dread going to work, because everyone asks about it. I dread coming home, because I’m alone here. Really alone too, since there is no cold black nose jammed in the door snuffling when I come home.

Woo is gone.

I’d give anything to have her resting here on the bed with me. I miss the round weight of her when I’d pick her up, and how she’d sneeze when I’d hold her upside down. I miss her fur all over everything and her dribbling water on the kitchen floor. I miss hearing her crunch her food—the number of times she’d chew and how she’d nose the kibble around in her dish—and the way she curled her nose under to go to sleep. One moment she was here, and the next I was holding her limp little body and telling her I was sorry and that I loved her. I have no one to blame but myself, because after all she fought and survived, the one thing she couldn’t live through was me. So my best friend is gone, and I did it, and I’m not sure it’s forgivable, no matter what anyone says.

I miss her, and I want her back so much I’d give anything. I never knew anything could hurt like this.

And there’s no escape from it. Just work and home. Running would help, but obviously that’s out of the question for now. I’d like to go somewhere, but I can’t drive. And as kind as my friends are, I’m can’t ask for more. They take me to the grocery and carry my things and drop me at work and pick me up. But I can’t ask them to cry with me. And I can’t stop. I wish I could.

I’m starting to hate this room. And hate my work. And hate my writing. Most of all I hate feeling so dark. I should be grateful I didn’t cut my toes off, and that I don’t have to lop off any skin on my ass to put on my foot—which I’m well aware none of my friends would let me live down. I should be grateful Woo stayed with me as long as she did. I want to stop feeling sorry for myself and starting every sentence with “I” and being so damned narcissistic, but I don’t know how.

Maybe starting with doing something nice for someone else would help. I’ve just cried myself sick, gotten a nosebleed, and given myself a stern lecture for being so goddamn self-pitying. This will all pass and soon.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The Nerve Strikes Again

I thought I was done with my personal hatred of The Nerve. I thought that all I had left to do was roll my eyes and despise him vicariously through Alexandrialeigh. Not so. I hate him more than I ever have. I wish great evil on his big fat sweating half bald red head. I hate his big nose. I hate his incompetence. I hate his stuttering nonsensical directives. I hate him for not being able to do his job without letting personal envy get in the way.

The man acts like a total princess, unable to take criticism without feeling as though it is somehow a direct impugnment (is that a word?) on his character... or lack thereof. When he makes a typo in a headline, does he take ownership? Hell, no. He blames it on someone else and asks why no one likes him. What the hell does liking someone have to do with doing a good job?

The one person at that organization who was absolutely essential and held everything together has been forced out, and for that, I think I may fill out those exit interview papers after all. And it's going to be rather satisfying when the powers that be suddenly figure out that nobody knows how to do anything, find anyone, edit the paper, post it to the web... I think they're going to be very sorry indeed. I think it will become glaringly evident that they have fired the wrong person. I think The Nerve has dug his own grave.

The only thing that makes me sad is the two and a half employees who are left that have to trudge into work everyday without the one person who made it sunny and fun and interesting and safe. At least she's now free to shake the dust of that thankless job from her coattails and go without the side effects of premature aging.

Now that I have unleashed the vitriol...

So they're sending me to Kansas for the new job.

HAHA! I shit you not. Kansas. Tres glam, no? I am considering wearing ruby slippers. Yes, my job is so thrilling and I get to hang out with all the hot movie stars in Kansas. Oh, and I'm going to San Antonio next week. I think I'm going to be tired.

Anyway, I've had a LOT to do lately, and my to do list is keeping me awake at night. That and the fact that i can't afford Woo's valium right now, so she paces all night. But I did get our U.S. Senator to agree to speak at the grand opening of our other office, and I think the CEO might have been a little impressed. But I feel like I'm starting to hide at my desk instead of being brave and plowing ahead. I have so much work that I get the sensation that i'm spinning my wheels, like no matter what I do, it's just a crumb compared to the whole lot. It makes me a little tired. But all in all, it's good. And did I mention they got me my very own sexy, hot, chromalicious new G4? I want to lick it. Mmmm, G4...

Things with A.S. have been better, and I think he's forgiven me for acting like a three year old on Saturday night... you know, where negative attention is better than no attention at all. I'm honestly just so embarrased for worrying him and acting like such a See You Next Tuesday. My least favorite part of it was after I had, um, lied, and said I left because I didn't see him and thought he'd already gone. And he told me, "You know, I have a really hard time believing that you thought I would just leave without you." And I had to say, "You're right. I knew you hadn't left. I was just mad."

I would have broken up with me, but then, we already know he's nicer than I am. Oh, I'm so ashamed. Anyway, Sweet Al came over last night and drank wine and ate cheese (mmmm, cheeeese) and pasta gorgonzola (like from Celia's) because she could tell I was on the edge. She told me it sounded like I was coping, but that I might dissolve at any moment, which was fairly accurate. The new job, my dog's condition, my finances... it's just all just overwhelming. That and I have EIGHT weddings/engagements this spring. Eight. Eight weddings. EIGHT, PEOPLE! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! God, I'm a fucking old maid in britches and no one will ever marry me and I'll wind up old and alone with no teeth.

Okay, I'm back. Some person from Ass Hole Land took over my psyche there briefly.

Anyway, so the wedding thing is definitely getting to me, and that particular wedding just did me in. I hadn't see A.S. all week because he's had so much work to do, and I understood that and was being supportive. But when he seemed (emphasis on 'seemed') to ignore me that night, and I watched a recently married couple and then the just-married couple all dancing nearby, it just made me unbelievably depressed. I'm sick of telling people that I'm happy for them. I'm not. I'm selfish and bitter and in love with my boyfriend and worried he doesn't feel the same way about me. It was like it all just exploded on saturday, and he certainly wasn't expecting it. hell, neither was I. And even though I may rant on this blog (because it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to), I'm really not so hysterical in person. Maybe I get it all out of my system whining to Al or The Lacto-Pescetarian or on here, and then don't inflict my mental collapses on everyone else.

So Al told me that all in all, it was perhaps understandable that i freaked out (EIGHT!), especially considering the amount of alcohol in my system. And that yeah, I'd acted really dumb, but we all do sometimes when we're drunk, but that love isn't about three-strikes-you're-out. That I've had to put up with a lot of A.S.'s crap in the past and I still loved him. So I should have a little more faith in him to do the same. And she's right. Sigh. It's good to have friends that can get to the root of a problem and don't just say "pat, pat, there, there." It always makes me feel better to talk to her.

Thanks, Al. I love you!

So, sorry this is a long 1950s-era whine about my lack of marital status. If it makes anyone feel any better, I have decided that this is my own problem, not his, and that I need to do more on my own. Perhaps fulfill more of my New Years Resolutions and try new things. And A.S. clearly does a better job balancing his personal life, so I thought I might ask him how he does it. Because I suck at it. (sigh)

Sunday, April 03, 2005

long time no blog

I woke up today at five till noon, only it wasn't noon, it was freakin one o'clock... at which time I had a magazine interview across town. Sheesh. What a way to get up: shrieking, leaping out of bed, holding head so it will not fall off and roll across the floor from hangoverness, throw on jeans, scrape boozy moss from teeth and fly off to try valiantly to pay attention to someone talking about antiques for two hours. Oh God. It was awful. Somehow the man had no idea, thank goodness, but afterwards, A.S. and I went and gobbled up a very large lunch and lay down in a sanddune at the beach and passed out for an hour.

It was a miracle he even wanted to date me after last night, because I was very ugly and behaved like a total moron. I ended up acting like a drama queen bitch at this wedding last night, and leaving without telling anyone (hello third grade behavior) and he was worried and had no idea I was even mad at him, and after he found me we ended up having a gigantic fight and I feel like the biggest idiot. Everything has been going relatively well until now, and I had to go and make it all bad again. So I think he's forgiven me, but it's still very solemn and pained between us. Sigh. Why couldn't I handly my insecurity with even a modicum of dignity?

Anyway, in better news, Al and I ran the Cooper River Bridge Run yesterday! It was pouring rain and cold and windy beforehand, but once the race started it was beautiful out! I finished in an hour and 12, but I think that now I know it isn't that hard, I could have run it much faster. I was so nervous before it started, I was babbling and cheering, and making Alexandrialeigh crack up and A.S. roll his eyes. I lost Al somewhere around the first span--she told me to keep going, but when I turned around again, i couldn't find her, which SUCKED. We've been training together for so long, and then we didn't get to finish together...damn. So, Al, I hope you had a great race, and I'm sorry we got separated! Let's go running tomorrow and talk about the race.