| Random things that float into my head as I'm falling asleep.... |
[Dec. 4th, 2009|11:46 am] |
If you could get plastic surgery (let's say a magic pixie waved her wand and a pile of money landed in your lap), what would it be?
I think I'd try to get my stretch marks erased. For those of you who don't know, I had a bizarre growth spurt when I was a child---so bizarre, in fact, that my parents had to drive me to Sick Kids in Toronto to have a specialist test me for Gigantism and pituitary tumours! Long story short (ha ha), the rapid growth left me with weird-looking stretch marks on my legs.
No way in Hell would I get plastic boobs, though. I've seen enough straight porn to know that they just don't function like the real thing. :P |
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| I no longer have an ass. |
[Nov. 6th, 2009|03:58 pm] |
Oog.
Back in August when I joined the Y, I was assigned a "trainer" to show me the ropes. He was a kindly, if somewhat patronizing, older man ("Wow! Good JOB, Susan!" "It's Susie." "Ah! Susie is such a pretty name!") who gave me a simple, six-machine routine to follow for the next few months. It was easier than I expected it to be, and so for awhile there I was strutting out of the locker room feeling pretty cocky and impressed with myself.
Today I had a follow-up appointment with a new trainer. The woman who greeted me was an Amazon who looked not unlike Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2.
The first thing that went through my mind was "Oh shit".
"Oh shit" continued through my mind (and occasionally through my mouth) for the next hour as she led me through a brutal workout. She actually said "Feel the burn!" a few times. I felt like I was trapped in a bad '80s infomercial. By the time I got back to my apartment I was walking like Frankenstein.
So now it's four o'clock on a Friday and I'm ready to collapse in front of a piece of technology with a screen, be it computer or TV. I recall my Grade Seven gym teacher's words: "I don't really think you were meant to be an athlete, Susie." |
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| OH THANK THE GODS |
[Oct. 16th, 2009|12:09 pm] |
YES! As of Tuesday at the latest, my precious PS will be back. I'm just hoping to Hell that I won't lose the pictures I've saved as .PSD instead of .JPG.
In other news, life is good. Can't blog now, gotta live it while the sun still shines. :D |
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| AAAGH!! |
[Oct. 11th, 2009|01:51 pm] |
My PhotoShop has officially shit the bed and gone to The Big Computer in the Sky. I won't be able to upload any art until I either fix it or find a replacement. God I hate technology sometimes!
Oh, and happy Thanksgiving, Canucks. :) |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 6th, 2009|01:53 pm] |
September is here. The town is coming alive again, and so am I. I don't know why I seem to hibernate a little in August.
It's so nice to feel happiness (as opposed to acknowledging it as an abstract concept).
I can't remember the last time I checked my f-list. :( Sorry, peeps. I've certainly been lagging on the LJ front---can you believe I used to update daily three years ago?
Anyway... more about the new leaf I'm turning over when I'm feeling less disjointed. Let me know how you're doing.
EDIT: Ooh, forgot something! For the lazy and/or forgetful: www.MyMedSchedule.com. Let the robot brain keep track of what you have to pop and when. :D |
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| What's a good word for a mini-epiphany? |
[Aug. 15th, 2009|08:51 pm] |
An "epiphanette", maybe?
Anyway. For as long as I can remember---and we're talking back to age two or three, here---I've had recurring dreams that follow the same somewhat-macabre theme: no matter what my age, I'm given a horribly deformed and/or mutilated baby to look after. I'm overwhelmed with how hard it is to take care of the little beast, but I still manage to do so; and, oddly, no matter how monstrous the baby is, I still feel a deep love for it, even when others are repulsed by it.
For at least two decades I've been dreaming variations on this theme, and have always woken up disturbed. But I finally realized what my subconscious has been trying to tell me:
The baby is me. I obviously knew from a young age I was "other"---hence the baby's deformities---and also knew that it was up to me to take care of myself if I was to survive.
I felt the "moral of the story" smack me upside the head a few days ago. (My mother, who has the gift of dream-reading, helped me come to this conclusion.) What do I have to do to live as healthy a life as I can with a disability? Well, I have to treat myself more or less as I would a baby. I wouldn't hit a baby. I wouldn't cut a baby. I wouldn't tell the baby I hated it. I would feed it nutritious food, bathe it, stimulate its mind, cherish it, et cetera. If the baby's deformities made others wince, I would explain to them that it's okay, it's safe, it's nothing dangerous or scary. Babies piss and shit all over if you're not careful, and God knows I've done that (metaphorically, of course) on my life more than once.
...That said, I've always had recurring dreams about telekinesis. Either there's some great metaphor there, or I just read too much about Uri Geller as a kid. :P |
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| Lord jesus |
[Aug. 8th, 2009|09:33 pm] |
I am HOME AGAIN.
After.
Two weeks up in the uncharted boonies of Northern Ontario.
...
I hope you don't mind me quoting Homer Simpson when I say...
"No Internet and no vodka make Susie... something something." |
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| Home again... off again |
[Jul. 23rd, 2009|11:56 am] |
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Well, I'm back from a week in Michigan---and now headed off for a week up North to visit relatives. But fear not! I'll have Internet access again on the 8th of August. (Let's see how long I can go before having withdrawl symptoms). |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 9th, 2009|10:00 pm] |
God, I am having a week from Hell.
My parents, for whatever bizarre reason, have decided to renovate their entire home. As a consequence, my mother has been in tears for days and my father has been fighting back migraines. Their finances have shot through the roof, and they're both royally pissed and permanently on edge.
Wasps and yellowjackets have decided to decend upon my balcony. Also, my miniature garden (lettuce, tomatoes, herbs, and a flowering plant) is starting to shrivel up from the heat.
I can barely sleep; I've been having nightmares of college exams and bladder infections.
Oh yeah---and one of my best friends is now almost paralyzed from depression and anxiety. I'm sick to my stomach trying to think of ways to help him. FUCK!
FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!
Okay... deep breaths... I can't wave a magic wand and cure those who I love with one fell swoop.
*sigh* |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 1st, 2009|02:30 pm] |
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I have a story in my head, and it's like a coconut: I know there's good stuff inside, but I can't seem to crack it open. |
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| Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|08:44 pm] |
Michael Jackson is dead?! I could have sworn he turned into some kind of Bionic Man a few surgeries ago!
Great, now I'm gonna have "Thriller" stuck in my head all night. |
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| So here's how it goes... |
[Jun. 7th, 2009|11:04 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | happy | ] | My life over the past five or so months, Reader's Digest version:
- I get sick.
- I get better.
- I get sick.
- I get better.
- I get sick.
- I get better.
...and so on. When I'm sick, I tend to withdraw so that I can take care of myself and get better. When I'm better, the world outside beckons and my creativity surges back, meaning I have little time left over to update my LJ. Horrors! :P
Things right now are going really well. Last Friday I dug my fingers into clay for the first time in years, and (forgive the hyperbole) it felt like Popeye eating spinach---I suddenly saw all these possible art projects popping into my head. Now that I have studio space to work in, undertaking messy, long-term projects is more feasible, too.
One thing that's still a major "block" for me is my e-mail. I honestly don't know why, but I became paranoid about opening it and checking my messages a few months ago. And, of course, the longer I go without checking it, the more messages pile up, and the more anxious I become about it. I'm sorry to anyone who's been trying to contact me that way---I've been trying to keep in touch via FaceBook, MSN, etc. If anyone has any suggestions about how to overcome this block, I'd be more than happy to accept them :)
... Oh, and to anyone in my area (you probably know who you are): I'm trying to organize a shindig, partly because I love that word, but mostly because my birthday is coming up. Note me either here on LJ or on FaceBook for the details. :D |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 6th, 2009|03:40 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | furious | ] | Sometimes I think I can't take watching the news anymore. I took a week-long break from it for the sake of my sanity, and as soon as I start reading political blogs again... BLAM.
I don't have any real commentary about Dr. Tiller's death yet. I'm still in shock.
God fucking dammit. |
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| I hate having a uterus sometimes. |
[May. 16th, 2009|09:35 pm] |
I was so bloated today I couldn't zip my jacket up over my boobs! (I'm not even going to tell you what I had to do to get into my pants.) If someone hugs me, I'm afraid I'll pop like an overripe pimple. >:(
Yes, you all had to know that. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 5th, 2009|10:56 am] |
Holy shlamoly, I think that's a new personal record for LJ-absense!
In a nutshell, here's what happened: Around February, I fell into a pretty bad depression. Luckily, it didn't last very long; nonetheless, the relief I felt when I broke out of it was so wonderful that I threw myself into art projects, self-improvement, yoga classes, etc. In fact, I haven't even checked my e-mail since the first of Feb, which means there are close to two thousand messages (mostly spam, of course) for me to wade through :(
I apologize to anyone who has been trying to get ahold of me via e-mail; I'm not blowing you off, I'm just way behind.
Viva la Springtime! |
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| AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH |
[Feb. 27th, 2009|12:18 am] |
Okay, I am OFFICIALLY sick of living downtown.
Midnight: Overhearing a screaming match (about "yuh gahtta be respectin' mah wummin") held directly below my living-room window.
12:04: Going out on my balcony to shout at the douchebags who were making the commotion.
12:10: Going to the bathroom and STILL hearing the douchebags screaming at each other from out my window.
12:15: Storming outside, in the freezing rain, in my PJs and slippers, to yell at the douchebags who wouldn't shut the Christing Hell up.
12:16: Slipping on a patch of ice and face-planting in front of a police officer.
12:17: Trying to staunch the bleeding from my right arm with my left hand. Giving the nice police officer my information. Wondering how much tape my glasses would need.
12:18: Face-planting yet again on same patch of ice.
12:19: Two police officers assisting me to my feet, asking me if I need medical attention.
12:30: Furiously typing down events on LiveJournal while soaked in mud and blood.
I. HATE. THIS. TOOOOOOWWWWWWN. |
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| Because... |
[Feb. 25th, 2009|11:26 pm] |
You can't hate the night If you've lived your whole life without light
And you can't hate the dish If you've only ever eaten fish
And you can't feel alone If it's all you've ever known
Yeah, the deep-sea anglerfish Has no reason to be happy But she has no frikkin' idea What else to be!
( pic! ) |
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| Things that only happen to idiots: |
[Feb. 8th, 2009|10:33 pm] |
1.
I came home tonight a little after eight. Since it's a Sunday night, the first thing I did after closing the blinds was strip and change into my PJs. I turned on the Discovery Channel and zoned out for about forty minutes.
Then I suddenly remembered that I had stuffed money into my bra three hours ago.
What followed was ten minutes of running around my apartment like a decapitated chicken. Thank God I finally found the cash lying in a pile of laundry.
****
2.
Sneezing so hard you actually bash your head against your laptop screen. While watching "Mythbusters".
****
3. Having to chase a squirrel out of your kitchen.
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4. Massaging the blisters on the tips of your toes two nights after you stagger home in 7" heels that are one-and-a-half sizes too small.
****
"It never gets old, huh?" "Nope." "It kinda makes you wanna..." "---Break into song?" "...yup!"
Someboby PLEASE shoot me in the head! I've had this song in my head for ten days straight! |
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