Aly talks to crows tree

(no subject)

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.
BFF?

(no subject)

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.
anders being enjolric

(no subject)

Well.

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.
BFF?

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.

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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!
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    high high
Thor!

(no subject)

"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 O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

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    contemplative contemplative
Aly talks to crows tree

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.
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    calm calm
the reason i drink

(no subject)

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.
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    pissed off pissed off
Aly talks to crows tree

(no subject)

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.
the reason i drink

Gonna go run over a bitch with my shiny blue walker

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.