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Feb. 3rd, 2010

It's not easy


 God, this is getting pretty ridiculous.

I am still quite injured.

And I have a bad chest cold! The left side of my chest hurts really bad and won't stop. My right knee hurts really bad and keeps jerking backwards, snapping, and generally being a pest...and won't stop.

But in light of all that...

...I'M GETTING AN MRI DONE ON MY KNEE WOOOOOO~! Thank goodness, it was apparently a long time coming! When the orthopedic surgeon learned that I had never had an MRI done on my knee even if I was going to Shriner's for most of my life (and my knee got to the point where it would just keep giving out for no reason) he was absolutely appalled. He looked up and practically yelled "WHAT?!" with this look of utter shock and bewilderment on his face. I didn't even know this could be done for the purpose of assessing soft-tissue damage in joints. I'm just glad that we'll finally figure out what the hell happened, because this is pretty crazy. Also, painful. And annoying.

Jan. 20th, 2010



 It is 12:12 AM (as of my looking at the computer-clock) and I am totally about to go to sleep. However , there is something I must rant about before bedtime.

And this thing I must rant about...

...is Media Mail.

I'm serious.

I swear to fucking GOD, do not use this shit. This service is made out of Satan and Molasses. Satan covered in Molasses. It is IMPOSSIBLY GODDAMNED SLOW because of the procedure they use for it and people beat the shit out of the packages because LOLBOOKS. It is just about the worst thing in the universe and was probably invented by the Nazis when they were searching for new and interesting ways to torture people.

No, scratch that--this messed-up crap is STRAIGHT OUT OF THE MINISTRY OF LOVE. In fact, my Room 101 is waiting for a book I've been longing to read that is coming through Media Mail. Hell, O'Brien would just have to go "We have a book for you, coming by Med--" and I would start SCREAMING MY BLOODY GODDAMNED HEAD OFF for him to inflict this torture on someone else. Hell, I'd rip myself from my bonds by the sheer force of NOOOOOOOOOOOO and throw my  arms around him in a passionate, desperate frenzy, pleading for him to make the insanity stop as images of postmen kicking around packages and freighters slowly crossing the ocean filled my head, all in ridiculous overcrank like some sort of really bad shipping version of 300--without all of the asskicking.

Sure, it's cheap, but it's...it's just not worth it.

Trust me, world. Just go with Priority.

You'll be saving yourself from a would of pain.

Yes, I order a lot of things off the interwebs--but I didn't remember the pain of Media Mail again until I accidentally ordered something with it two weeks ago. I weep for priority. LOUDLY.

Rant rant rant argh, I need to go to sleep. I have stuff to do tomorrow that is marginally important.

Jan. 8th, 2010



Can't be on the computer too long today, so I'll make this short.

Something happened today.

Oh yes, something happened.

On the way home today, my knee popped out of its socket and popped back in out of NOWHERE. I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN SOMEDAY. And it HURT LIKE HELL FKGJG;LHGDF

Eventually, the pain calmed down to sort-of-tolerable levels, which they remain at now, but that does not change the fact that MY KNEE DID SOMETHING IT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO. Now my leg is all stiff and I walk stupid. I guess I'll have to start using the cane again. DX

My mom lol'd at me because this happens to her all the time. She has to use a brace.


Dec. 29th, 2009

~Awesome Fairy Man~

WTF is up With Winston and O'Brien.


I was like, reading 1984. Again. Because it is my most favorite book in the universe. Because I found a lot of it hilarious. (Don't worry, it was well-written and put forward an important message; I just...have a weird sense of humor.)

ANYWAY, I was reading it, and among all of Winston and Julia's magical romps where they have sex, Winston tries to explain something and Julia promptly begins complaining/disagreeing/ignores him; there's the...uh...thing, with Winston and O'Brien.

Does Winston have some sort of weird daddy-issue style man-crush on O'Brien or something? D: I mean, he's totally into Julia and all...but he just. Won't. Stop. Obsessing. About. O'Brien. O'Brien's disarming glasses gesture. O'Brien's physique. How smart O'Brien looks. How he and O'Brien are TTLY gonna meet in the "place where there is no darkness." It makes it look like he's just longing for an epic, intimate revolutionary bromance here. Sure--there's the spark of hope that O'Brien is the epic key to freedom, but...seriously dude. And then there was the clinging. And the love. And...just the clinging. I'm pretty sure it didn't take much at all for Winston to get Stockholm'd into oblivion; he already seemed to be crushing on his captor harder than a hormonal twelve-year-old girl before it even happened. 

In other completely uninteresting news, I must get my third molars out. Well, at least the ones on the bottom, since they made my dentist go "OMG, WAT." This procedure must be done in a hospital, since I've got these thick operculi(?) that are doing stupid crap. I hope my teeth aren't broken when this is done, I want to use them for stupid crap.

Dec. 20th, 2009

Lambda cookie!

NOTHING is Happening.

I have nothing of importance to say. So here's a three-minute sketch of Kai trying to sit in one of those awkward really low modern chairs that I colored with crayola colored pencils. HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO SIT IN ONE OF THESE DAMNED THINGSCollapse )

Dec. 17th, 2009


Fun With Science/Toxic Fumes!

The other night we had to clean up a bit for inspection. (Ah, the joys of renting.) It was a bit frantic because we started late, so we were all over the place doing various insane cleaning-related things. It was tough to keep track of who was doing what. Usually I follow my mother around during cleaning because she has this odd tendency to do things she really shouldn't while cleaning. (You can see where this is going.)

BACKSTORY: Last year, the night before inspection, my mother nearly filled an old spray bottle that had contained something else entirely with bleach. I had to yell at her not to do it, and convinced her that if she wanted to spray bleach on the walls we should go to Home Depot and get her a brand new spray bottle. She bitched about wasting money the whole time, but I knew that it was for the good of everyone. I mean, seriously.

FLASH FORWARD BACK TO WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT: Anyhow, yeah, no one could really keep track of anyone as we were all furiously cleaning. My mother vanished somewhere to do something, and I thought nothing of it--I continued to dust in peace when suddenly, this really intense, burning chlorine odor filled the entire house. I mean, it was tear-inducing. I was like "OMG, what the hell, did my mom spill the bleach all over the place or something?" She comes running out of the bathroom with her shirt over her mouth and yells at everyone to get outside with the cats. We gather up the cats and go outside while my mother stays inside, trying in vain to get the fumes out of the house. Everyone started getting pretty sick, so she called the paramedics and they came over (with a firetruck!) and checked us out. My mom was holding a spray bottle in her hand and explained to them that she thought there was nothing in the in it, so she tried to fill it with bleach. (FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUU--) The paramedics sighed and asked if any of us would like to go to the hospital. (We were mostly fine, and just needed to sit down outside for a couple hours. At midnight.) I suggested that my mom should go, since she was in the house much longer than any of us. She went, got checked out, and was thankfully fine.

While she was gone, I read the bottle: The cleaner that it had held was made with glycolic and phosphoric acid. It said in GIANT LETTERS, "DO NOT MIX WITH CHLORINE BASED PRODUCTS, WILL RESULT IN POTENTIALLY DEADLY TOXIC FUMES" and "DO NOT REUSE BOTTLE." >< I don't know, it was just...such a stupid night what. We ended up cleaning into the wee hours of the morning because of this. It was lamesauce for serious.

Dec. 12th, 2009


Why Can't I Stop Messing With Stupid Crap


APPARENTLY these days ONE MUST JOIN to take stupid online tests. At first, I was peeved. THEN I GOT AN IDEA.

I have heard of many a woman receiving hilarious creepy messages on OKCUPID, and said:


So I filled out their stupid question crap thing that they make you fill out (you know, to match your personality to someone else's using a retarded online test or some crap like that) and will soon put some kind of dumb picture on there, IDK. People get more hilarious messages if they post a picture, from what I've heard.

SO, in the event that I receive hilarious creepy messages (I halfway doubt it since I plan to...you know, not do social crap on that site) I WILL PUT THEM HERE. You know, just as a record. Of hilarity.

Now I must proceed to take eighty million really stupid personality tests like I had originally intended.


Creepily appropriate, though. D:

Dec. 2nd, 2009

oh pikachu





I'm kind of wondering if I should make myself some sort of weird trophy for this nonsense, because that's some pretty spectacular injurynation going on over there wtf. D:

Now I must wear arm braces to keep myself from doing stupid wrist crap.


Why do people keep developing automated kiosks that practically beg for me to waste money on them? There is now an automat that makes custom tags--military-style dog tags, heart shaped ones, round ones...in all kinds of colors. It's eight dollars to get a tag with a chain. I have decided that I absolutely must use this machine for some reason and make a tag that says something ridiculous on it.

I am too easily amused for my own good. ;_;

Christ I hate how long it takes for me to type stuff now what DX

Nov. 19th, 2009

what is this computer nonsense

Injury by NaNoWriMo AAAAND Crazy Adventures With Germans


So, uh...I had hurt my arms by finishing NaNoWriMo in 11 days, which is stupid. Don't do it. I'm feeling much better now, though--my joints are mostly just locking up and getting into a world of pain after excess way-too-fast typing and being out in the cold, which I am avoiding. Funny--both cold and excess heat make them hurt.

...Actually, no. Not funny. Lame. ):<

With that out of the way, I have an amusing story to tell.

Today I spoke with my German cousin! She's very nice and decidedly not plant-obsessed at all, which is a relief considering all those shows I've been watching becoming related to plants at some point. I was beginning to think the whole country had some weird thing for gardening, but no, it appears to be just Bayern. And well...Bayern is Bayern. They have a lot of pretty country, though, it makes sense that everyone would have eightymillion plants.

My family does not live in Bayern (but kind of moderately kind-of-sort-of closeish to it, it seems) in the large town of Kassel, which apparently has a huge-ass park with fake things in it. I don't know why, but this sounds AWESOME MCSUPER to me. I could spend forever in a park with fake crap in it. I've always wanted to see one. (And I am absolutely serious about that. I go nuts over large-scale fake versions of other things. IDK why.) IT WOULD BE TOTALLY KICKASS TO VISIT THIS PLACE. My cousin says to come in summer or else I will die of the freezing, but I WANT an excuse to have a fancy coat and awesome boots. I haven't seen snow in like 19 years. SNOW PLZ.

Also I am wanting to visit Bayern also plz

Just to see

After watching this station for so long THERE IS NO WAY I CAN PASS UP BAYERN. I will go everywhere. Munich, wherever. I must see these people that apparently really love plants. My journey would not be complete without further investigation of this strange phenomenon.

Nov. 9th, 2009

~Awesome Fairy Man~



...I'm doing NaNoWriMo again.

I'm about 34,000 words in, holy crap. I'm doing way better than last year.

HOWEVER, the story makes no sense at all...which I suppose isn't really all that surprising coming from me. But it's hilariously fun. I can't wait to edit this thing and get my proof so I can read it over and wonder what the hell I was smoking to write something so utterly off the wall. Auch, ich habe ein neues Deutsche Taschenwörterbuch, weil mein altes Worterbuch ist gebrochen.  Ich bin ernst.  WTF. How the hell does a solid dictionary just split in half for no reason?! Lame. My new dictionary is made out of the same stuff as arm floaties, it's kind of weird...but it was the most convenient looking one there, so...eh.


...why the hell am I awake at 5:20 in the morning. ><

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