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Jan. 1st, 2030

oh shit it's a deer

(no subject)

Everything prior to this entry has been friends-locked. Most everything after this entry will also be friends-locked, unless I get drunk and forget to friends-lock something. Which is totally going to happen.

Dec. 15th, 2015

oh shit it's a deer

(no subject)

Grandma's having a surgical consultation today to see what can be done about the sudden and excruciating nerve pain in her left arm. She has some really serious chronic pain issues stemming from sciatica, spinal stenosis, an old trapezius muscle tear that happened when I was a little kid and we were too poor to repair our washing machine so we washed clothes at the laundromat and hauled them home in black garbage bags to dry in our dryer (because we were also too poor to afford to wash AND dry at the laundromat) and apparently a body can't carry heaps of wet laundry up many flights of stairs every week without incurring some damage... anyway, long story short, homegirl's a hot mess. At first she was thinking she needed a full shoulder joint replacement, which she had done on her right arm several years ago. But from the way she describes the pain, how it comes on out of nowhere and feels almost electric and is worse in her hand than in her forearm, it sounds like nerve pain, and I don't know that a joint replacement is going to address that very well. I'm hoping it's something as "easy" to fix as carpal tunnel syndrome, because she's also had that surgery on her right arm and it was an outpatient procedure that did a whole lot of good and had a really low recovery time, unlike a joint replacement which would require at least a two week stay in a rehab facility. Medicare doesn't exactly cover a NICE facility, you understand, so... I would rather not have her in a very sad and depressing place for any length of time at all.

The part that is really worrying me right now is how bad the pain is, and how she's reacting to it. She can deal with the chronic pain of all the sciatic nerve stuff, she's been dealing with that for years and has an incredibly high pain threshold as a result. But this is a different kind of pain and it's really rocking her world. She's told me twice now, over the past few weeks, that she understands now why some people with chronic and intractable pain take their own lives. "I was just sitting here looking at my fresh supply of morphine, 90 days worth, and wondering if that would be enough to do it. Not that I would do it, I would never do that to you, but..."

Thing is... the suicide thing? It runs in the family. My uncle, her youngest child, took his own life in August, and I believe her when she says she'd never do that to me, but... my uncle had also promised her that he'd never do that to her, and then he did. When the pain gets to be too much, be it physical or emotional, I guess you sort of forget those promises. Or you think, they'd be better off without me anyway, so.

No disrespect intended toward my uncle, god knows I've turned his whole ugly situation upside down and sideways in my mind trying to understand it and I can empathize with the state of mind that he must have been in when he made that decision. But... I'm pretty sure my grandma's made of sterner stuff than that. At least I hope.

Dec. 11th, 2015

oh shit it's a deer

(no subject)

fall quarter ended on wednesday evening when i handed in my final paper for criminology, which i spent all day writing. i've developed this really bad habit of not doing assignments until pretty much the day they're due, and aside from having locked down the required two peer-reviewed information sources for my bibliography a few days earlier i really had not done much work on the paper until wednesday morning. good thing i took the day off. the point of the paper was to choose a theory of criminology and apply it to a crime of our choosing, or apply it to a movie, or write about the theory in the abstract. working backwards, i opted to choose my crime and find a theory to fit, and in the interest of choosing a crime that would have a boatload of research for me to dig into, i went with school shootings.

you know what's not fun? researching school shootings. but i found like three more peer-reviewed articles from academic journals, so, in-text citations for days, whaaaaaat.

there's a typology of school shooters that lays them out into three categories: psychopathic, psychotic, and traumatized, i.e. the bullied and beaten-down kids who learn to see a gun as the only solution to their problem. it's really not hard to find a school shooter who fits into one of the first two categories, but i wanted to draw the connection to cumulative strain theory and i needed a traumatized shooter, so i picked through the everytown.org list of school shootings until i found one that fit: sparks middle school, nevada, 2013. twelve year old kid on the spectrum hits his limit of bullying and marginalization, takes a gun to school, tells everyone he's going to ruin their lives like they ruined his, then kills a teacher before killing himself. i found the full 1,300 page police report, read almost the whole thing, and it was just heartbreaking -- the kid was way behind academically and socially and developmentally, he needed to be on an IEP but apparently wasn't, other kids bullied him, teachers tried to get him enrolled in life skills classes to help him not be such a target but requests were denied... he just never stood a chance.

anyway. i wrote the shit out of that paper, like i always do, and i'll probably get an A like i always do. hard to see the sense in starting the work earlier when i always grind it out at the last minute and pull top scores anyway. starting the work earlier would have meant spending even more time marinating in the awfulness of the teenage male brain, and as my criminology textbook bleats over and over with stats to back it up every single time, teenage males are the worrrrrst.

Dec. 10th, 2015

oh shit it's a deer

but, like, i mean

things haven't been all bad, though. they're not all bad now. actually... things are sort of okay. i don't love my job but it's manageable and they reimburse me for some of my tuition so that's kind of nice and i'm on a special project that'll look good on my resume when i leave. so there's that. and i may not have just spent two weeks in italy but i did take myself to two new states this year, not counting long layovers in new-to-me airports. (if you count those, then i made it to like seven states this year. maybe let's just let me count those until i make it back to those places for real, but, like, when am i going to go to charlotte on purpose?) and then there's that whole being in college thing, which yes has its major downsides like debt and everything, but... it's a huge thing, and i'm doing it, and i'm successful at it. i had a 4.0 gpa for the first time in my life and maintained it for a year and now it's probably like a 3.9, which is also fine for a person working full time and going to school almost full time. that's probably a thing i can be proud of.

and my hair looks pretty good. i'm really nailing that long bob.
oh shit it's a deer

what am i even doing

i'm doing the thing where i'm finishing undesirable chores instead of replying to a message from a cute boy who seems like he might want to take me out. it's just that... well. what it is is that he's a sweet young thing with a rather prestigious career as an audio guy, working with a well known travel guy for his main job and moonlighting at a beloved radio station on the side, just came back from two weeks in Italy but has traveled extensively and it's a huge part of his life, tight-knit family and giant friend group, child of honest to god hippies who raised him to be an upstanding liberal feminist who works to make the world a better place, basically just a perfect little nebbishy dish i could put on a plate and sop up with some challah. and i can't. because i'm too intimidated. because the furthest away from home i've ever been is ohio (not for lack of wanting, but is it worse to admit you haven't traveled because you haven't been able to afford it? at my age?), and my family is just the worst, and i'm old and unaccomplished and feeling lots of feelings right now that i can't even really put a name to.

i mean, on the one hand, fuck anybody who thinks i'm less of a person for not having had a certain set of experiences (although the irony here is that he probably would not think that of me, and i'm struggling with thinking that about myself, oh ho ho ho, in this instance the fuck you is a fuck me). on the other hand, try getting the scared little anxious parts of my brain to stop overriding the parts of me that don't want to be all self-hating.

maybe i'll try tomorrow.

Apr. 13th, 2013

oh shit it's a deer

ain't that a kick in the pants

it's been so long since i've logged into my lj account that i actually got an automated "omfg someone logged into your account we hope it was you d00d" email about it. oh, technology. you're adorable.

Mar. 20th, 2011

oh shit it's a deer

most unproductive weekend ever

for the past forty eight hours i've either been playing forza motorsport 3, sleeping, or hanging out in downward dog to combat the effects of sitting for hours playing forza motorsport 3.

Feb. 14th, 2011

oh shit it's a deer

damn i wish i'd taken voice lessons

i'm completely obsessed with this song right now. completely.

Feb. 1st, 2011

oh shit it's a deer

(no subject)

remember when charlie sheen was hot? god, that was a long time ago.

Oct. 4th, 2010

oh shit it's a deer

some girls are bigger than others

i finally used my gold-plated health insurance today and went to see scott's hippie doctor in the north end. something really interesting happened when we reached the weight portion of my chart: she didn't shame me for being fat. i'm so used to medical professionals giving me the side-eye for being a fatty, even though my numbers (bp/cholesterol/whatevs) have been overall pretty damn great. but even when i've gone to the doc for things like a sinus infection, they're usually like, "you know what would solve the bacterial infection in the front of your skull? diet and exercise!"

not helpful, medical professionals of the past.

anyway, today my hippie doc listened to me explain my body's history, how i'm at the high end of my weight range due to a lot of upheaval in my life -- this whole year has been a year of massive, shocking changes that have left me kind of shaky. like a baby deer on skates. and when things get shaky, my weight destabilizes in one direction or another. in previous years it's gone down during stressful times, but this year i discovered my deep love of having calzones stuffed with goat cheese and pepperoni delivered to my home (if not directly into my gaping maw), and so i'm up about ten pounds higher than average. and then i explained how i come from a family that's chock full of disordered eating -- i was bulimic in high school and sometimes revert to its not-at-all comforting familiarity when i've reached my stress limit, and while only one other person in my family owns up to having eating issues, every last one of them has serious problems with food. and then i explained how when i was 12 and puberty arrived and gave me hips and big ol' titties, my grandma wigged out and sent me to jenny craig because she couldn't stand me getting fat, and how between 12 and 30 i tried damn near every weight loss tactic under the sun but...

and my doc goes, "...wow. say no more, hon. weight loss PTSD." and then she asked if i'd be comfortable talking to a nutritionist who specializes in working with ED patients, just to make sure i'm getting a good mix of nutrients in my diet. "and if you ever feel like you're having trouble with food, or your body image, or anything at all, and it feels like crisis time, i want you to come back in here. we'll talk it out. i'm part of your team now, so lean on me."

weight loss PTSD never occurred to me, but when i get past the feeling that calling this PTSD is disrespectful to, like, people who have gone through combat... it starts to make sense. the defining feature of my relationship with my grandmother has been my weight. when i am thinner, she is happy and treats me nicely. when i am heavy, or worse, when i am heavy and not repentant about my failure to be thin, she is unhappy and treats me poorly.

actually i haven't spoken to my grandmother since mother's day, which is a post unto itself. but a major part of the reason we're not talking is the body stuff. and having someone else hear just a bit of the story about that and being on MY side? shocking. in the best way possible.

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