April 2, 2012
April 1, 2012
What if….
If this happens I’d be searching immediately for a Romney reaction shot.
what if santorum has a speech today and at the end rips his tie off, throws glitter everywhere and screams “april fools!!!!” and kisses the closest man near him.
(Source: pigfartingaround, via viceprincipalpanch)
March 29, 2012
And then touch him on the penis.
What, you want context?
Both of these things exist on the internet.
Hat tips to lionza: via: Va Bien for the image.
(Source: thelingerieaddict, via viceprincipalpanch)
March 26, 2012
I have anxiety dreams
I had a dream yesterday afternoon during one of those naps that comes after exhaustion from panic. It was Christmas eve, there was a basement under the house where there shouldn’t be, and below that, another, and below that, the return of caverns from an old dream filled with demons competing for the favor of evil. And I was supposed to go down there and get some stone to put in a silver ceremonial yet scientific thing to block the spaceship from ejecting us (we were prisoners) into the vacuum of space. Don’t ask how my house was inside a giant space ship. Ask how you know yours isn’t. eh? But I couldn’t get the stone and do the one thing that would make everything okay; I was too fat to get into the first entrance. The end (of life, the universe, and everything).
Do any of you have anxiety dreams that get this complex?
March 24, 2012
I am so damn self-destructive.
March 22, 2012
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
This is fabulous.
Dolly Parton’s Other Voice - Jolene
FACT: Dolly Parton is two amazing singers. If you slow her songs down (as if you were playing an old 45 at 33rpm) she sounds completely different and really terrific.
I’ve always loved Dolly, but somehow this makes me respect her singing and songwriting even more. Freaky.
XD Watch the soprano become a tenor!
March 21, 2012
March 18, 2012
Oh, what a pathetic creature I am.
I got in the car to go to the party and realized I couldn’t drive. Great. It was almost impossible to get out of the garage, and I had parked the car in there. So I know it was positioned in a way that should have been easy to get out of the garage. Night vision was definitely improved, but I felt super out-of-it. Theory 1: anxiety of driving there and back. Theory 2: exhaustion from getting the car out of the garage. Theory 3: Sticky blood on the brain that was less noticeable when I was just sitting on the couch instead of driving. I’m thinking probably a bit of all 3.
No party for me. Bah.
March 17, 2012
Life is moving along
My paper is getting better, and I’m working on a crime novel about a pair of serial killers in an (obviously) dysfunctional relationship. It’s pretty good so far, but it has a loooong way to go.
Sleep pattern is mostly normal, plus naps from exhaustion. I’m recovering from long days better, but doing worse with pace. I’m still pretty sad about not being able to talk to J, but it’s appropriate to be sad about that. Now I spend less time worrying about the breakup, and more time worrying about the next big make or break turning point in my life: whether or not I’m getting into the IU Bloomington Gender Studies program. Eek.
Yesterday was a major OCD day. I kept not being able to leave a room without completing some kind of task when something jumped out at me that made me feel lazy. The fridge is clean and has a certain…*ahem*…order to it.
Whoops. Running out of time. I’m going to a party tonight. Starts at 9. Gotta shower. My haircut (oh yeah!) is really best when it’s just been washed.
I am armed with better glasses and Klonopin if the anxiety turns up to 11. I always freak about my purse. I dunno where to put it, and nobody else seems to even have one. Can’t dance with a purse. S’not right.
March 13, 2012
The sky is blue, and all the leaves are green.
I’ve pushed a bit too hard, again. I went down to B-town for the day.
“But it’s so nice today! Why don’t you walk instead of having your food delivered from upstairs!”
My inner optimist is a bullshit artist. I expect tonight there will be copious amounts of sleep and then a repeat of the same kind of nonsense.
I was at Soma, but I went all the way to Bloomingfoods for lunch. It was delicious, but there were points on the walk there and then the walk to the public library (adjacent to Soma) that I had to stop and stand still and breathe deeply and slowly, try to relax my muscles, catch my breath, and let some fucking oxygen get to my tissue. I lunged today. Walkin’ like a drunk person. Hip jauntily to the side, an exaggerated contrapposto. That was totally not embarassing at all. Nope. Not a bit.
At one point, the library entrance was closer and I was near a needed rest point again, but I knew that I would then later have to go to Soma to be picked up. The indecision put anxiety through the roof, amplifying my heat intolerance. Yeah it was a nice day; so what? I get hot. I continued toward the library entrance, saw stairs, and almost cried. They were going down, but it would mean climbing on egress. However, they had simply hidden the ramp from view. I basically didn’t get my heart back into my chest until after the Klonopin I took at the library kicked in. Now, back to work.
Oh Be-Jesus. A woman just came in that was having a similar walking issue. She looked like she was a million years old. Okay, maybe more like 85. I know about the character of her problem because the library staff offered her a wheelchair after watching her pause. I’m doomed. Doooooom. [Lower voice] Dooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm. Doom? So what?
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