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Hey, fellow crochet people? How do I get my single crochet projects NOT to curl up on the ends and get shorter before I'm finished with them? They go all lacy and circular and I'm not sure what I"m doing wrong? This is the first time I've tried something other than tiny projects so I'm confused.
About three weeks ago, I officially gave up on fighting the fibro, and my injuries and whatever else is going on that I need to have checked out. That doesn't mean I'm going to do anything drastic to myself, but it does mean that instead of pushing myself to do the shit I can't, I've started listening to myself more, stopped being so embarrassed about my cane needing to come with me, and gotten a rheumatology appointment to see what they can do to help me.

My new doctor was also willing to call in the pain meds that help me while I wait for this appointment this week, and they aren't the kind that are destroying my liver, so that's a bonus too. I had two teeth pulled the week before last which also sucked and contributed to this, but really, I'm sick of working against myself and I've decided no more of that. It's actually been helping.

And I found myself able to go into an adjusted stance again yesterday so as soon as I get the clear from my doctor and possibly hit up PT, I can start shooting again, which thank fuck, I really really missed it and haven't been shooting since Halloween. It means shooting from the other side but I'm the gal who was pretty much ambidextrous until they tried to teach me to write, so I'll figure it out. I'm happy to get back to it and stuff.

Things ARE improving slowly.

Writing Enjolras again, in a modern AU this time, as I've been doing for about a month now has started to become a real adventure. I also let Courfeyrac out of HIS cell, but holy shit, Enjolras. The muse that will not be silenced when he believes that freedom is on the line. Tonight it was a blog entry about FEMA responding to an in-game disaster, and it's gone for 61 comments at last count.

I...forgot how angry he could be when he is like this. Righteous, determined, and too angry to let things lie. I'm loving it. I'm really really loving the chance to use the political writers that I've read and to just...let him have his head for a while.

I'm also amused at how much hate he's getting for an entry posted to his personal blog and not the actual in game social network, but it's the attention that he wanted, that he likes, and people aren't typically arrested for blogging vague things like "it's wrong of the government to act without our consent" and "Actually, the people haven't been consulted as to how we're governed. Generations past did that."

He's a nutcase and pretty damn extremist at least in what he writes, but it's so damned much fun. I love my crazy riot inciting muse. So Les Amis ARE getting me through this recovery after all, even more so than I'd expected. :)

Thank you Victor Hugo. For everything but Waterloo and the sewers.

I am so fucking high you guys.

So. Foot has been getting no better since I went off the vicodin and I had a few really fucked up days of being kind of sickish this week, then happened to glance at my heel at like four in the morning where the pain seemed to be centered, on friday night/saturday morning.

this is gross and TMICollapse )

I also got to see what my foot looks like now, and the five screws and two plates are seriously messing with my head right now. It doesn't feel RIGHT somehow, in a way I hadn't dealt with when I knew they'd been put in. On the bright side, the xrays shut my mother up and she hasn't complained once at me today.

Go figure?

Myriad ooc drama in the comicbook portions of my roleplaying life again. I'm strongly contemplating dumping the characters I play from there JUST to be done with it. At any rate, I'M proud of the growth I've written for them over the past several months even if nobody else notices it, and I can say that proudly enough. One of the best writing choices I made this year was taking Ollie. I can't regret it, even though the rest of the justice league players are being assholes at me right now. However, Les Mis film was the answer to all my prayers and Enjolras finally has several of his friends in game and they're amazingly fun and awesome new people which pleases me.

So those are good things!

I'm insane.

Les Mis/Hunger Games crossover could actually work really really well. I'm tempted to try it.
"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?


Virginia, your little friends are wrongCollapse )

deep breaths

Okay, as Mom pointed out, she had no idea how I was even going to GET to school next semester, or get around there. Which is...a valid point. I'm going to take a month or so to get the foot back to weightbearing, work on writing, and...while I was idly looking up other careers I had an interest in? I have enough basic editing experience that I think I could get work as an editorial assistant eventually. Maybe not right away, but it's the kind of thing where I actually have three years experience editing the work of others, where I have a degree in the English category (mine are in Lit, but it was enough to get me into 101/121/131 level courses to teach writing so there's that) , where I've taught in it, and I think, given enough perseverance, I could handle this shit.

I also have some written pieces that I don't know what to do with, a couple that I'd chance publication on, so I can work on establishing those pieces of my life. Maybe the Legolas paper, and the Eowyn paper I plan to do for part two of that conference, or a revised version of the Serenity paper could end up somewhere too. Hell, there's papers I've been WANTING to write, and who cares if I'm not in school to do them right now. I thought about going back but...

Okay, I'm going to tell the truth here. I wasn't fond of teaching college freshmen. I don't know if I can handle working through the years it's gonna take to get me to a point where I'll be teaching higher level. With the exception of one class, most of my kids were obnoxious, loud, and intimidating (did I mention these classes were largely male? I don't mean to gender stereotype but, well. Men and Women are very very different in communication behaviors at ages 17 and 18. ) I feel really bad that my techniques didn't end up working but I did my best, I went beyond my best, and I can't feel bad about trying my damnedest to make things work out.

It's crazy but I'm actually kind of proud of myself for sticking with it, and hanging in there anyway. I think that's why the reviews bugged me so much. But this is me we're talking about here. I'm a survivor, I'll move forward, and I'll find something.

Of course, given that society might inevitably come to a screeching halt tomorrow, this might all be moot anyway. If that's the case, the first places I'm looting are the pot dispensary and pharmacy, then getting all the feminine hygiene products, toilet paper, diapers and shit to resell at a premium I can. I'm armed, Given the right arrows I could be pretty dangerous, and, should this pass? I'm not gonna have a lot to lose.

New life plan. I like it.
According to my student reviews, I was below average in caring about the quality of my teaching, and didn't care when students were bored. Well, all those nights I was up until two in the morning grading papers, prepping lessons, and trying desperately to find something to get them engaged in the course must have really been something *I* fucking well imagined. Grading papers from the ER, and in the hospital right up until the minute they came to get me for surgery, and sending constant reminder emails and everything else apparently didn't happen either. No WONDER there's no courses scheduled for me for next semester since I basically sat on my ass not giving a fuck all semester, according to them.

I don't even have the ability to can right now. I just...

You entitled fucking little bastards. I hid how much I hated your superior attitudes toward me all semester, and put up with your laziness and everything else, and this is what I get? I have no idea what I am going to even DO right now, and I don't know what I did wrong.

Happy mother fucking holidays.

PS. the worst part is I left my favorite mug there.
Someone posted about The Monster Study (the speech therapy and anxiety one that ended up screwing up the kids who hadn't had speech anxiety before) on a community that I am in, and it prompted me to air some thoughts about something that's been with me for eleven years now.
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I'm...not sure why that's still with me, but getting it out feels better, almost.
So. I can't leave the house so they arranged for a home health nurse and therapist to come out. After being bounced between three different agencies, the following finally occurred today when one was able to come. This is an excerpt from an email with my mom.

She (Julie the very nice program admitting nurse) is just leaving. It isn't for PT yet, it's for INR checks for the next two weeks and then I need to do it at a lab. The paperwork from the hospital is wrong, they gave me the wrong coumadin instructions when I left, and she said that I need to go in and get the bandage changed before the weekend because I probably have a fungal infection from the looks of it.

I think I'm better off having that looked at at the ER(since I have no way to get there tomorrow morning). The surgeons office ONLY sees people in the morning. (Not UNUSUAL but it would have been nice to know or have them set up a followup or give me a number, and tell me about aftercare).

I see why people on facebook (friends from high school who are nurses/nursing students) were saying all those things about Hospital. They didn't even have the correct pain meds listed and the office didn't even know I was taking lortab and not percocet and knew nothing about PT or when I needed to take the bandage off (or who was supposed to monitor my coumadin for that matter. They didn't even give me an order for it, so Julie the nurse had to call them to find out what the fuck they were doing) I'm about to cry.

She was very nice though! I feel so bad for this agency getting this stuff passed to them like this.

My car

How am I still breathing, let alone walking?Collapse )

So that explains why they had to cut me out.

....In other horrible news, my cat, Max started getting sick the night I went into the hospital, and he died this morning. He had just turned two and I didn't get to say goodbye. When Mom started telling me his sudden symptoms over the phone last night it sounded pretty bad, but I'd hoped he could make it to the morning, and the vet. I'm thinking, based on his age and personality, he may have had FIP the way Zsa Zsa did. Have to get Buzz and Chloe tested pronto.

Max had just started to come out of his shell too. He'd started sleeping with me after Beau died, like he'd been waiting for it all along, but didn't want to be rude. He spent all of Sunday night camped out on the couch on my feet and wouldn't leave for hours. He was so happy.

I don't understand why I couldn't have held onto him a little longer. It seems really unfair that I only spent about a year and a half of his life with him, but that little cat was such a comfort, and taught me so much that this is one of those times quality wins out over quantity I guess. I'm really, really going to miss him.

Mom wants to get Buzz a new kitten because Max was Buzz's best friend, and so he'll leave our older cat alone. I'm not sure I'm ready to do that quite yet, but when I do I want one that's totally different from Max or Beau so that I can love it as itself instead of as a replacement for the cats I could never replace. I don't know. I just want to go home.
Dear Bitch,

Far be it from me to expect you to be around the day i had surgery, or for me to expect you not to yell at me via text about having to WORK when I texted you that they were wheeling me down. I'm over that, whatever. Far be it from me to think that you might come see me the night AFTER I had surgery like you promised, because you were at a party with your friends, and then shopping for his ass, which you phoned to tell me about in excruciating detail, and far be it from me to think you'll bother showing up tomorrow when I'm supposedly due to come home because you'll obviously have something more important to do then too.

You know, I wish I HAD been killed on Tuesday. Sure, it wouldn't change a thing with what you're doing now, but I wouldn't have to pretend I'm okay with it either.

I'm sick of being a grown up this week. I have two metal plates jammed on either side of my ankle with lots of screws in there too, nurses, therapists and social workers trying to bully me into going to a nursing home when I get out of here, and I'm in a lot of pain, and I just wanted someone to talk to for an hour or so who wasn't online that could distract me who they might actually listen to.

Fuck me for wanting any of that, or even daring to think I might deserve it after the week I've been having. I'm glad to know that I mean just as much to you as I mean to my father.
Lying shitheads. All of them.

I want to go home. All I want to do is go home like they promised I could do today, then tomorrow, and are now saying Sunday. They also tried to send me to a nursing home today, like bullying me into it. You know, if PT's asses had showed up when they promised they would, they would have had TIME for more than one little walk three doors down and back, and I COULD have been getting ready to go home tomorrow but nooo. My life is just too fucking awesome for THAT, I guess.

I left my email alone after surgery to come back to a bunch of student whining about where were their grades and would I take this late, and so on and so forth, this morning, and they didn't listen to my choices on the meal menu that I circled, and instead brought this spicy shit I took one sniff at and was violently ill and didn't care that I was throwing up for hours last night because I wasn't due for anti nausea meds, and everybody was demanding at me over the phone, and the doctor made fun of my hair because i haven't washed it, even though I was in a cast since tuesday that I couldn't get wet, and then a surgery cast that I also couldn't get wet and they wouldn't believe me that my pain pump wasn't working, even though it wasn't, and I just want to get out of here because I know students are going to be mad if I can't get their final grades in soon, and they've already emailed today demanding to know what they were, and I have to be home to do it, and I know they won't hire me back for missing the last two weeks of the semester, and everybody's going to be mad at me, and I don't even know what to do because I have so much SHOPPING to finish and stuff to bake and I can't, and they don't want to let me go HOME but won't help me here, and I am never going to get out of this dump.

Dec. 6th, 2012

No, you're clearly not giving me all the medicine you can if there are no changes, and you leave me for hours with a non working pump while telling me it's doing what it's supposed to. If that's the truth, why does it hurt worse than when I was wheeled into your fucking ER?

Additional prize goes out to Mom who I texted today with my surgery time, as she'd told me to do. She responds by sending me this bitchy text about being at work and how she can't help me. You know, I knew she couldn't come to the surgery, which is fine, but being such a bitch for doing what she asked for? I don't know, man.

I am about to find a way to hoist myself out of here and down to the nurse's station where the meds are kept. If they won't make my pain go away, sadistic fucks they are, I'll make it go away myself and I dont care if I OD or end up in jail for it either.

...Oh good. One of the nicer techs came to check something and said HE would ask them. I don't think it'll get anywhere but it's nice to have someone believe and care about me today.


And they got ahold of the doctor who said I'm exaggerating and to leave it because surgery is in three hours and he'll fix it then.


So. I was in an accident yesterday. My lil car, named Clint cause he was purple, wound up hydroplaning in this puddle of water. I spun out of control, trying to stop it, then into a county snow truck with the plow, hard enough to dent it, and then into a tree. There was a nice lady who came to help me who had seen the whole thing, and then some adorable rescue workers and stuff. They had to break my other window so that they could get into the car and put the cervical collar on my neck, then tug me out and get me on a backboard. I never want to go on one of those again, you guys.

They took me to the nearest hospital, where they xryed my ankle to find out it's not just broken. It's badly broken. To the point I need surgery with plates and screws. They MIGHT be able to do it tomorrow depending on my swelling. I'm on just about ALL THE DRUGS and it's still kin of hell right now.

Mom found out about this via one of our mutual friends who saw an update I'd put on facebook. The cops had told me they'd gotten her on the line and made sure she knew at the time of the accident, but apparently not. According to my aunt, when she called this morning, Mom was freaking out really badly over this, and me. One of my cousins on my dad's side, Jimmy, who was a lot like me as a kid, was killed in a similar accident, so I was damn lucky, even if I won't be walking without help for a while.

School offered to finish up my grading this semester, but I told them I'd take care of that. I found out last night we need a formal written exam for that course, and it's a universal topic that they choose. I asked for a proctor for those days and I know my students are gonna kill me for not knowing, but I didn't get the email. Ether way, I'm not gonna be going back to campus this year I don't think. I'm hoping that by January I can go back and have classes though. Either way, I'm here, and bored, for at least a little while. Entertain me?
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I have to get my money back and get the hell out of this place. No more letting them guilt me into staying around because they can't afford the rent payments again.
Thea is here, and she is GORGEOUS. A little creaky, which concerns me, but she's AWESOME. It's been a bad bad week here, with me developing what I'm pretty sure is a tooth abscess, though thankfully, I finally was able to get into an emergency clinic, two hours away, for tomorrow morning. The one in this county only takes two to six a day. ...I don't even...what?

So yeah. Hopefully I'm not gonna die and stuff, and photos later!
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--

Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."

Yes, that is so," said the fox.

But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

Yes, that is so," said the fox.

Then it has done you no good at all!"

It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields

Because of the color of sapphires. You can't see it in the pic, but Beau had the most beautiful blue eyes.

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You know, bitching because I haven't done the thing you said we were going to do together today yet when you've been sitting on your ass watching twelve year old movies and playing with your iPad all day, while your husband throws a tantrum because I didn't say hello to him this morning, and acting like this is a perfectly normal state of affairs is...

Actually, you know what? It's fucking typical.

Thanks so very much for that.
I'm...not as okay I thought I would be. I'm pretty much a wreck.

I'm glad that the vet's office takes walk ins and they didn't argue. They just listened to our story and agreed that it was better to do it before he was in worse pain. I didn't handle it as well as I thought I would. It was extremely easy, and fast and I was such a wreck at the time. I mean...I thought I'd be able to do it without falling apart. Haha, yeah right.

That said, goodbye, you furry little bastard, you were worth every moment. If I hadn't thought that you were suffering, I'd have kept you around longer. I'm sorry if it only looked that way and I jumped the gun, but better now than you getting sicker and lingering on but just existing.

I...feel like I should put up a picture but I don't have any on this computer. Later on then.


Aly talks to crows tree
Princess Stabbity

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