1) Chopped off my hair. It's just long enough to put into a ponytail now, which is shorter than it's been in a while. I'm not quite sure what I think about the look of it yet, but hot damn is it easier to take care of. My only hope is that it makes me look a little older, as I'm pretty sure the curtain of hair I was sporting previously made me look ( Read more... )

Passive-aggressive and outright aggressive e-mails from my father ( Read more... )

Viola, my beloved laptop, died this week ( Read more... )

1) Feeling pretty okay today, and have been for the past few days. Not perfect, not great, but pretty okay. This is a nice change. It also helps that I may not have one, but two neurologists now. I'm booked with one at the beginning of December, and we're waiting to see if a second one might be able to get me in sooner ( Read more... )

Well, I'd made it a month without a seizure. That's progress, right?

It's not been a pleasant couple of days.

Someone backed in to Cordy while I was at work yesterday, leaving my license plate hanging by ONE BOLT until I managed to get home and have Mum come out and help me fix it. The plate went back on fine, but there are scuffs and scrapes and ugly marks all over her front bumper. That, and the fact that as of ( Read more... )

You know, I never imagined the first time I'd be stood up would be by a teacher.

"No cafe au lait today, Percy?"
"Nah. I'm waiting for someone. I'll get one once they show up."

I ended up leaving the coffee shop after half-an-hour. That was the point where the staff started shooting me pitying looks and my eyes started to sting.

"They didn't show, huh ( Read more... )

There comes a point where you're beyond wanting to scream, because no-one's listening anyhow. You want to burry yourself beneath your blankets, sob, and imagine that maybe the world is going to go away for a little while.

(It won't, but that's not the point. It's that faint hope that keeps you believing that you might make it through.)

Guess what ( Read more... )

I'd like to go on the record here and state that I hate being ill.

I'm shaking, I'm pretty sure I'm feverish, and yet I'm freezing my ass off despite being in a sweatshirt, heavy pants, and wrapped in a large and comfy blanket. Let's also not forget the lovely accumulation of goo inside my sinuses.

I barely managed to page through that stack of ( Read more... )

Dear world:

You've spent the past month kicking my ass. As a result, I am left a broken, bleeding mess with psychological bruises all over me, and a significant lack of saline in my system.

Good for you. I imagine you're quite proud of yourself.

I have news for you though -- I'm done with that. I'm done with you. You don't get a say anymore. It's my ( Read more... )