Tuesday, June 29, 2004
11:45 a.m.
While I obviously wish the circumstances surrounding my health were different, I am enjoying this time at home. Usually, when I have a string of consecutive days off from work, I am on a trip somewhere outside of Los Angeles. I don't think I've ever spent more than 2 free days in a row at the Compound before. I really love this house. And even though physically, I feel like shit right now, I am glad for the opportunity to kick back, listen to the windchimes hanging outside the bedroom window and the baby birds chirping in the nest up above the door, and soak up the sun with my cat (who desperately wants to eat the baby birds chirping in the nest up above the door).
I have also been revisiting our vinyl collection. I had forgotten how much I love Joni Mitchell. Her music is phenomenal.
Monday, June 28, 2004
010:46 a.m.
So... yeah, this weekend was an absolute nightmare. The stomach pains started around lunchtime on Thursday. They were so bad that I was afraid to try to get up from my seat because I wasn't sure if I could make it and I didn't want to wipe out in front of my co-workers. Somehow, I managed to limp down to my car and drive home at the end of my shift. The pain got worse and worse as time went on... washing over me in intense, paralyzing waves... and I developed a fever. I tossed and turned in a sweaty, half-conscious state until 8 AM on Friday, at which point T drove me to my doctor's office. She took one look at me and sent me directly to Huntington Hospital, where I ended up spending the weekend.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't like doctors. I find that they are quick to prescribe pharmaceuticals to patients who, in a majority of cases, would quickly heal if they were to eat less crap food, drink more water and get more exercise. I know this is a major generalization, but I can't tell you how many times doctors have written me prescriptions for painkillers, antibiotics, etc. which I have ended up not needing. I prefer to tough it out whenever possible, or go the natural route when I need some assistance. I don't even like to take aspirin when I have a headache. So you can imagine how un-psyched I was to discover that I had appendicitis and that surgery was the only way to prevent a potentially fatal rupture. I had to sign a bunch of scary waivers, holding the hospital harmless in the event that my body didn't take well to the anesthesia. Poor T - I asked him over and over to promise me that I would pull through, that the anesthesia wouldn't kill me, that the doctors wouldn't accidentally fuck up my insides. He kept telling me that I would be OK, but I was getting so panicked that I think he was beginning to have doubts. Finally, somebody wised up and slipped some anti-anxiety medication into my IV which calmed me down considerably... I didn't even flinch when the girl in the pre-op room joked that my face might blow up if I didn't remove my nose ring, And the next thing I knew, it was over and I was shivering and shaking uncontrollably and being wheeled through the endless halls back to my room, where T and Heather and Rob were waiting for me.
And I have been pretty uncomfortable ever since. At first, I could barely sit up on my own. The first time I got out of bed to use the bathroom, I almost passed out. Things improved when I agreed to take morphine. I swear, I have probably taken more painkillers in the past 48 hours than in the rest of my 31 years combined... and that has been a MAJOR mental hurdle for me. But I have realized that this is one of those instances where it makes no sense to be stoic. I do have to say, though, that Vicodin is WAY overrated, I have no idea why people take it for fun. Granted, the pain in my stomach right now is pretty intense and the one Vicodin per day that I am allowing myself is barely making a dent. If I were to take two or three at once, I would probably understand what the hype is all about. But I'm just not a pill-popping type o' gal.
The pain is at it's worst when I move... if I remain sitting or lying in one position, it's not too bad. I have 3 ugly wounds in my stomach (my bellybutton will never look the same again). And I am sweating like a motherfucker (I am normally not a sweaty person, so this is kinda gross for me). But... I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Today is a lot better than yesterday, which was a lot better than the day before. I am supposed to stay at home all week.. which seems excessive, but I know I probably need it in order to recuperate properly. The hardest part is going to be forcing myself to relax, to take naps, to remain calm - because I actually have a ton of stuff related to the wedding and our cross-country move to take care of. I guess one week of sitting on my ass won't kill me.
PS - T is the best-est, most patient man in the whole world. I am very lucky!
Sunday, June 27, 2004
07:07 p.m.
T and I never made it to Fahrenheit 9/11 on Friday night... I ended up having an emergency appendectomy instead. I spent the weekend at Huntington Hospital, and I'm still quite traumatized by the whole incident to be honest. The doctor told me to stay home from work all this next week, so I'll have plenty of time to recap later. Right now, it's time to pop a Vicodin and pass out.
Monday, June 21, 2004
012:03 PM
We have tickets to see Fahrenheit 9/11 this Friday night (opening night) at the ArcLight. I'm really looking forward to it. I sent an e-mail to the ArcLight folks, commending them for agreeing to show the movie in light of all the controversy it is currently sparking. I got a speedy response from a guy who said that it was nice to get some positive feedback, since he had also received a bunch of e-mails expressing the exact opposite sentiment from mine. There really are people out there -- everyday people -- who are trying to stop the distribution of this movie. Crazy.
Sunday, June 20, 2004
08:05 a.m.
I saw Requiem For A Dream on Friday night. What an intense movie! It's still haunting me.
T and I were down in Santa Monica yesterday on wedding-related business, and we decided to stop by the Hear Music store to procrastinate for a while. Despite its affiliation with the mother of all evil (Starbucks), the store has always had a laid back vibe. Never too many people, hip and knowledgable staff, unusual and interesting albums on display in the listening stations... until now. Starbucks couldn't leave a good thing alone and put a huge coffee counter in the center of the store, which of course attracts hoards of annoying tourists and generates piles of trash. It's chaotic and crowded and out of order... and just not as nice a place as it used to be. It's a shame, but I can't say that I'm surprised. One interesting thing they did though was to add a bunch of make-your-own-CD kiosks - the iTunes Music Store concept taken to the next level. Of course, it's overpriced ($6.99 for the first 5 tunes and $1 per tune thereafter), but it's this sort of technology that will eventually destroy the giant record labels - and that can't happen soon enough, in my opinion. It's just depressing that it will happen at the hand of companies like Starbucks instead of (a) smaller groups of hipper, more socially-conscious people and/or (b) the musicians themselves. Yet another transfer of power from one greedy corporate monster to another.
And speaking of greedy, corporate monsters... Wal-Mart can go fuck itself. I am working on a huge submission for them this morning, which happens to be the most hastily-assembled, piece-of-crap submission I have ever seen. But because they spend tons of money with us, I have no choice but to spend my whole damn morning correcting their shitty grammar and rewriting their lame-o listings. I cannot wait until I no longer have to waste my time dealing with shit like this. Life is too short.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
09:19 p.m.
I went to Target tonight to pick up a Father's Day card for my dad. I knew beforehand that none of the available cards would accurately sum up what I wish to convey to my father. But damn - either there is a veritable ton of fat, flatulent, golf-playing, beer-swilling, channel-surfing dads out there, or the greeting card industry needs a swift kick in the ass. I finally settled on a card with a picture of a fish on the front... when you open it up it says, "Just a little Father's Day cod." I hate myself for being too disorganized to make my own card and spending $2.25 on an unfunny piece of crap at the last minute instead. Once I move, I'll be close enough to spend quality time with my father, and I can stop wasting my money in such a depressing, useless manner.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
08:13 a.m.
OK, this is really petty... but I CAN'T STAND IT when people who are suffering from post-nasal drip refuse to blow their noses and insist upon loudly sniffling and sucking the snot back up their nasal passages instead, to the obvious discomfort of everyone within a 50-foot radius. One of my work colleagues has been doing this for the past hour; I have my headphones on and my music blaring and the sound of her snot overpowers everything. I feel like knocking her upside the head with a box of Kleenex and telling her to BLOW HER FUCKING NOSE, GODDAMMIT. But that probably wouldn't be a good idea.
I just found my grandfather's obituary online. I'm still feeling pretty upset that he's gone. I didn't see him very often, so his death hasn't altered my day-to-day life at all. But I am having a hard time dealing with the fact that I won't ever see him again. Or hear his voice. He had an amazing, deep voice unlike any other.
Monday, June 14, 2004
08:51 a.m.
Last night I dreamed that I was a Menudo fan. I rode to their concert on bus packed full of other excited Menudo fans. I waited for them to take the stage in their glittery, sequined jumpsuits, breathless with anticipation. My sister Meg was with me. And when the show finally began, I turned to her and said, "See? I TOLD YOU they were good!" as if it was somehow really important to me to convince her of their artistic merit.
What is the matter with me? I am seriously disturbed by this.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
09:44 a.m.
In my ongoing quest to uncover any health problems I may have and resolve them before T and I quit our jobs (and lose our benefits) at the end of the year, I had heart and eye check-ups on Friday. Apparently, I have perfect vision, despite the wandering eye problem... which, as it turns out, is only curable via surgery. I'm not too psyched at the thought of going under the knife... I guess I'll have to learn to accept my retarded eyeball. I am assuming my heart is OK, I will get the report back in a few weeks.
I found a wedding dress yesterday... exactly what I was envisioning and very affordable. I'm relieved to have that task behind me. Now I can concentrate on the millions of other things I need to get done before October 2nd arrives.
This appears to be the weekend for catching up with friends I haven't seen in a while. T and I went to a fun bonfire party at Rachael & Todd's place last night. They own a little house in the Garvanza district of LA which they have transformed into a cool, hippy-ish haven. It's like a separate world, really. Every time I go over there, I remember all the creative ideas I've been stifling for the past 3 years. I can't wait until T and I have our own place so I can finally bust out with some of them.
My long-lost friend Joe is coming by for dinner tonight. He and I met 10 years ago when we worked for the same Tower Records store in NY. He moved from NY to the Sacramento area about 5 years ago, and he recently relocated to some bumfuck town about 45 minutes east of LA. I haven't seen him since 1999, so tonight should be interesting. I got him an interview at my company tomorrow... I hope he gets hired. He's really down on his luck right now.
My arm muscles have finally stopped aching. Time to go back for more torture.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
03:27 p.m.
I still can't straighten my arms. Fuckin' A.
Wednesday, June 9, 2004
10:04 a.m.
It's official: I am a weakling.
Last night, I met with a personal trainer for 30 excrutiating minutes. I lifted weights and did ab crunches until I felt like I was going to puke, the big, buff, monster-sized trainer laughing at me all the while. I can't fully straighten my arms today due to the throbbing pain in my biceps. I am simultaneously humiliated and inspired.
Saturday, June 5, 2004
09:57 a.m.
I have had a really crappy weekend so far, and I need to bitch about it.
I walked out into my driveway yesterday morning to discover that the front passenger side window of my car had been smashed in. I am positive that our gardeners are responsible, although I didn't see them do it. They were here earlier in the morning, mowing the lawn... maybe the mower kicked a rock up into my window, or they accidentally backed into it while loading equipment into their truck. I can't prove anything, which is really frustrating... because that makes me 100% responsible for the bill (I think my deductible is $500). My insurance company is sending someone to fix it while I am at work on Monday. I put together a makeshift window using garbage bags and duct tape, and STAY THE FUCK AWAY from my car between now and Monday, people! In fact, just stay the fuck away from my car forever while you're at it.
My grandfather died last night. He was in a car accident a few weeks ago which landed him in the hospital ... cracked ribs, internal bleeding, respiratory problems... but the doctors released him after a week because he seemed to be on the road to recovery. His condition took a nosedive over Memorial Day weekend and he was rushed back to the hospital, where he passed away after several days of ineffectual treatment. Although we didn't know each other terribly well (saw each other once every 4-5 years on average), I got on better with him than with any of my other grandparents. I'm feeling pretty sad about the whole thing... what a shitty way to die. The funeral is this Wednesday in Wisconsin and I am not going. I want to "pay my final respects" and all that... but it would take a lot for me to get there this week, and he's not going to know if I'm in attendance or not (I hate to sound crass, but it's true). In my opinion, funerals are simply a mechanism for dealing with grief. I don't need to buy an expensive plane ticket and spend 48 hours in Wisconsin with family members that I barely know in order to deal with mine.
T and I have to go down to the beach to figure out some wedding-related stuff today. T is exhausted... he worked over 13 hours yesterday and is only getting one day off this weekend, and planning a wedding is the last thing he wants to do today. I am feeling pissed off at the world and just want to be left alone. What a lethal combination! Hopefully, we can manage to get things done without biting each other's heads off.
Tuesday, June 1, 2004
05:52 p.m.
It's no secret that when I'm really tired, my right eye gets a little lazy. All you need to do is look at me at the end of a long work day to see what I'm talking about. What many people probably do not know, however, is that I was born completely cross-eyed... and I had two corrective surgeries as a small child (one on each eye) to help transform me from a freak of nature into a somewhat normal-looking, slightly lazy-eyed individual. Unfortunately, whatever the doctors did to my right eyeball all those years ago to keep it from wandering aimlessly upside my head must have recently come loose. It wanders ALL THE F&*!%*ING time now, at work especially, and it's driving me mad. I don't think my vision has been compromised by this problem... not yet, anyway... but it's uncomfortable. And there's the small issue of me looking like a retard. I have to wonder how many more days I can continue to stare at a computer screen for 8+hours before I start looking like Cookie Monster. I have scheduled an eye exam for this coming Friday, so hopefully relief is in sight. And hopefully, I won't have to start wearing glasses.
