Life is...

...Pain.

I know this. Yet, I would REALLY like to have just ONE day without pain. I would probably fall over dead from the sudden lack of input from my body and mind, though...

Migraine follows me everywhere. It's nestled in at the base of my neck, close to my spine, a little demon with dull teeth. Even when he's not OUT I know he's there, just waiting.
Sometimes I can feel his fingers at the base of my skull...tapping impatiently, or stroking lightly, sneakily.
Little questing fingers that dabble at my consciousness...
sometimes he's able to get into my brain and steal whole chunks of knowledge, like he did this afternoon, when I got into my truck and was completely unable to remember where the hood release is.
He's doing it to me now, even as I type, getting bolder and stealing words, whole thoughts, even my knowledge of CSS and HTML.
No homework will be getting done tonight--I am going to throw some blues at him.
They're no longer blue--the pharmacy changed to a different generic years ago a plain white oblong, but by then ttk and I were so used to calling them "blue pills" that the name has stuck, as has the term "blue pill babble."
Hey demon--catch!
He'll still be there, just less able to get to me, so he'll slink back to his crevice in my skull until he thinks he can come out again.

Which is way too frequent.

Scope Creep...

a very useful phrase that describes the phenomenon that occurs when I am trying to work on a project. TTK coined it and it fits me perfectly...

I Love that Man...

...but he's insane. I just got a call from him:

Him: "This is kind of embarrasing. I let myself run out of gas...I'm somewhere near Ignacio...but everything's all right, I'm just calling you while I catch my breath to walk back."
!
[boggle]
Me: "Honey, WHY didn't you call Triple A?"

Him: "Because I only have like one call left this year!"

Me:"HON, there's ONE more month left of the year! You don't need to save it!"

Him: "Oh. Now I feel stupid."

Me: "How come you don't call me BEFORE hiking to a gas station? I could have told you about the full gas can in the trunk!" <--I'm evil.

Him: "You're kidding!"

Me: "Yes, I am. But, you wouldn't have known either way until now...did you buy a can at the station?"

Him: "No, I just filled an empty water bottle."

Me: "That's what, less than a quart? So you'll pour it in your tank, and drive a quarter of a mile before running out again and having to walk back."

HE IS INSANE!

So now, he's walking down the highway at night carrying a plastic Arrowhead bottle filled with gasoline. Let's hope he doesn't forget and try to take a swig, like he did with the lamp oil.
(We now have a bottle in the kitchen, wrapped in duct tape with the words "FUCKING LAMP OIL!!!" on it.)

Winter's Coming.

Sigh. It's that time of the year again...the first bloody nose last night. You'd think that with it so rainy and wet, and COLD, that I wouldn't have a problem, but no, it doesn't work that way.

Hair

Boy, you know it's bad when NO ONE comments on your new hairstyle...
I mean, I went from all over brunette to a really badly patchwork bleach-blonde highlights that are more "chunklights."
Heh.

Since I'm swimming twice a week, I can't do a temporary color like I usually do, so I'm not sure what to use to "fill in" some of the blond sections.

And in other news, I've been geeking forever today.
At school.
And I don't want to leave because my hip and back are NOT hurting.
Have I mentioned my "desk" at home is one end of the couch?
And not even a real couch, either--it's my old (OLD) bed-into-couch futon frame with two different futons on it, one for the back and one for the butt.

Geek geek geek...but I'm getting hungry...geek geek geek...

almost.

Sitting in my computer class yesterday, I was discussing website development and bemoaning the fact that a website I've agreed to create has no CONTENT (which is the number one thing you need, BEFORE layout, and cute graphics, and rollover buttons!) and I said "I can do the code, but I can't _write._"

That struck me:
I used to write.
I used to write well.
Then a chunk of my brain decided to grow all wonky, and after 14 hours of surgery and months of confusion, dizziness, and migraines, I discovered that something was missing.
A lot was missing. What wasn't missing was damaged.
My hearing.
My balance.
My memory.

I used to hear music in the center of my head--I loved loud music and live concerts...now it's all on one side and kind of flat.

When I read poetry I could hear it, like music, in my head. Incredible depths and far off whispers, and a sense of something greater than the words alone.
When I wrote, I could reach that level, where as I wrote I could hear the different stories and worlds building. I could _feel_ it, I could direct it.

I no longer read poetry. Even stuff I loved, before.
Now it's like sensing something just beyond the edge of the light, something huge and ponderous and incredible, but never being able to see it.
It's like remembering how music _really_ sounds.
It's like seeing a photo of yourself, and having no idea when it was taken or what you were doing.

My writing is like that, now.
I can feel it almost becoming music, but I get lost in trying to get the words out of my head and the tune falters, dies.
Even this whole entry disgusts me--it's _almost_ what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it, but that's like saying a little melody is _almost_ an orchestral score.
.

New Meds

The doctor's appointment went fine--it was just a chat, really, not an exam...she says that it is most likely that I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome on top of (or would that be in conjuction with) the Ulcerative Colitis. Oh joy. Basically that means that my body has gotten used to the pain and movement, and so though the inflammation is trying to subside, the rest of my system is still in turmoil and fighting. (Remember your basic biology classes? "-itis" means "inflammation of..." so laryngitis is inflammation of the larynx. Bronchitis is inflammation of hte broncheal tubes. And so on. )
So now I get to try Lomotil too see if we can slow the momentum and calm the system.

By the way, have I mentioned that I have a feces issue?

I cannot deal at all with discussing this in person...I can write this here because, well, almost no one reads this.
I know this because I installed a statcounter...the people who read this already know me, or have navigated here through blogger's "next blog" button.
Statcounters are great...they remind you that though anyone can read your public pages, that doesn't mean everyone does.
Since I have so little traffic, I use http://www.statcounter.com/ for my stats--it's free, if you only want to save the 100 most recent hits. You want more, you gotta pay...but with those 100 hits, you get to use EVERYTHING--the landing page, the exit page, the search they used (if they used one), where their ISP is hosted, all sorts of interesting stuff. Go play--you'll like it, I think.

It's definitely a lesson in humility if you only have a few hits a week, and if you have lots then your ego gets a boost.

Boy, talk about changing subjects in an entry!