– I loved that comic!). Linda is supposed to be sleeping because she is teaching a new class tomorrow; only the two people who were supposed to do the work while she was away on training….didn’t. So she started writing the manual at 9:30 pm tonight. Ohhhh so much fun around here. The place we are buying our vibrators from won’t accept payment from a Canadian credit card but will take paypal. And last week I got myself ill by putting on a couple ebay lots of my boy love/yaoi manga working all day (don’t cry: I have TONS of boy love/yaoi, girl love/yuri and gender bender manga left). I wanted $200 but I got $195 which is enough to get the vibrators we want and leave me with money left over to buy a corset I have been lusting for. I know that yesterday, and today and tomorrow is all anguish and all that “oh no, I’m dying” mental crap but right now: ooooh vibrators! And look, they are in pretty colours (and come with free lubricant!).
Actually I had to be talked down last night because the info overload and loss of control got me all old testament and I was trying to trade with God: me for two people with lupus (don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you by naming who I was for). It just seemed that God would take the deal if I did the blood sacrifice NOW, before I had a even more decay on me.
What, that doesn't make perfect sense? Okay, I realize I have no control over my life so I try to start bullying God around and then two people with sucky conditions are cured (It made a LOT more sense at 2am to 3:30). Then somehow that turned into how God needed a “sign” which for some reason was selling my body on down on Government street. So I woke Linda up and asked her where sex workers sell themselves this time of night (like SHE would know?). She was groggy and didn’t seem to follow my logic (in the light of day I am not sure I follow the logic but rest assured my HEART was in the right place – the little problem is that I NEEDED to do sex work to get a sign from God so I could then open up my veins and let the blood out.) Linda meanwhile thought I was trying to save two sex workers with Lupus and telling me they were probably home in bed by now. While I was going, “No, I need to be a sex worker and THEN I will save the people with Lupus” I'd like to say we’ve all had late night conversions like that, but I know we haven’t.
Linda convinced me that “in the morning” she would help me make a deal with God for the two women with Lupus and I could make the sacrifice then. May I point out here that I hadn’t taken any pills. The experience went like this: I learned a lot, and what I learned implied that I had even less choice about how long I have to live. And in the morning I would be meeting with a doctor and then later a specialist and if they said I wasn't to get treatment or get to try different meds then I wouldn’t. So I was realizing that a person who prided themselves “in control” was now having their quality of life and even how long they get to live determined by other people (and sometimes not very nice people either!). Then I realized that friends I have (maybe friends I haven’t actually met in person), would be in the same situation, would be having chronic conditions they suffer from and the same loss of control. That seemed very intolerable to me and SOMETHING had to be done. And so I came up with a solution (this is NOT The Plan by the way) but rather a very 2 a.m. sort of solution.
So now it is day and I know that we don’t need the devil, since we have bureaucrats, and medical bureaucrats to boot. And I know that a champion fights the battles in front of her; she doesn’t go off on wild grail quests (since they tend to come and find YOU out).
So I went wiggy for a while but I am back. That’s totally allowed for Champions. Besides, today I made enough money for VIBRATORS and dealt with two tons of crap....what did you do?
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11 comments:
That *is* totally allowed for champions! Shit, i'm no champion and it's allowed for me too.
Yum. Toys are always good.
Seriously, the "oh no, I'm dying" shit will still be there whenever you want to go back to it. You might as well have glee over vibrators, as much and as often as possible.
Hurray for PayPal!
So what did I do yesterday? Yesterday I cooked and cleaned and blogged/blog-commented a lot. I argued with my true love about the best way to attach a bench pin to the drawing table he made me which is now being used for lots of things other than drawing while my drawing board sits languishing in the closet. I went to the local lumberyard (insert amputee jokes about going "To the lumberyard!" here) and somehow walked away with a free board foot of gorgeous mahogany. I went to the post office to mail an order from a local woman, whom I'd first tried to contact to see if she just wanted to meet me somewhere and get a refund on the postage, but she never got back to me. I played with my little red mini vise. (Cast iron, made in India, labeled "BABY VICE 25mm" on the package.) I crocheted a good three hours, which, after I ran through the Sopranos rerun I had on tape forced me to watch both CSI and Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, the latter of which oddly made me want to stick a gun in my eye far more frequently than the former. (I want to wash Veronica's face. I would kill for her skin, and yet she has allowed it to be painted oddly orange, and yet she is advising other women on dress and makeup. Huh. But it was her remark that bras don't last more than six months that nearly gave me a stroke. Oh, honey, my bras cost over $40 apiece, and I wear a different one every day. Am I really supposed to spend $600 a year just on foundation garments? Doesn't it occur to you that this is something we should protest, not accept? Oh, and BTW, Timmy? A dress, heels, makeup, and hair product do not a "stay at home" outfit make. No no no. Not unless you are Donna Reed, who BTW, is dead.) I stressed out over the cat, and then finally got to talk to the vet who told me he's fine, though still occasionally grouchy (yes, still), "just to let us know he's in charge." (Good kitty.)
Crap, no wonder I got nothing accomplished! ha ha ha ha ha
I try to make deals with god all the time. I write angry letters... you know typical shit. But - hmmm now that you mention vibrators I think I am going to add one to my christmas list... Dear Santa...
Those toys must be expensive ones, huh? Do they have super powers?
I don't like knowing you are so down and struggling and yet in your situation it is totally understandable and to some degree possibly necessary. I admire your ongoing sense of humor.
I bargained a lot with God before when we were going through infertility and then the adoption process from hell. I also asked Saint Rita to pray for me and felt that she did help me out since we were totally considered hopeless. I want you to have some sense of hope. I truly hope you do.
I hope you have a more restful sleep tonight. Not too restful yet! I am praying you don't go anywhere in the after world for a really really long time!!!!!!
em: Yes, I am a big fan of the german Fun Factory toys which are in bright colours but also expensive (but have more settings and vibrations than your washer and dryer combined). Thanks, I'll take on the grail quest another day.
Sara: We are going to have to have a conversation about RHETORICAL questions aren't we? I can't say it's good to know that the "oh no, I'm dying" shit will still be there - I would more like to know how, when it decides to emcamp inside of one's head and it turns out there is not enough room for it and all of it's friends so it chucks out "Reason" and "Common sense" in order to make room - how do you evict it?
Also - were you high when you wrote this comment? Not that I disagree that a dress and heels is not exactly a stay in rainy day outfit, but......you were high weren't you?
Elizabeth: Yeah, I forgot making deals with all the minor deities, like Santa and the Easter Bunny.
Marla: They do have superpower - which also includes natural painkilling - I heartily recommend you try one and see or as quoted from the recent romance Linda and I read called Tiffany Twisted, where due to Tiffany's wish that "If she could just get inside Kurt's head for a little while, she could really understand him (and change him for the better of course)." Presto, she and Kurt change bodies. At one point after Kurt (as Tiffany) as told Tiffany that "her body doesn't work right" becuause "it is impossible to masturbate" - she tells him about the Rabbit. Kurt's opinion a few hours later: "If he had only know about the Rabbit before. What he didn't understand was why all women didn't have one and why women left the house at all."
Okay, I think that officially comes under "Too much information"
Ha ha ha -- no. Not high. I thought it all might amuse you.
I have no concrete, useful advice to offer, only laughs, or what I hope will be laughs, and distractions. I find they are my best weaponry against my own demons, so I try to share them out.
All your talk about vibrators is sending me off in search of some. It's fine, though. I should've done this years ago.
I try to cut deals with the gods every now and then. Sometimes I get something, other times I get nothing. It's almost like they don't care, or like there's no cause and effect relationship here, darnit.
I think your attempt at bargaining says something about your capacity for empathy (as if many of your posts don't already display that). I think most people would want to save their own lives, rather than think of someone else.
Sara: Thanks for the distractions - though personally the idea of you high as a kite typing madly away on a computer is a pretty amusing distraction.
Lisa: Yes, vibrators are good! Very good! Get some! Thanks for trying to reset the context so that while I may be a wacked out crazy woman, I am a empathic wacked out crazy woman. I would say I'm empathic, I just can't stand the thought of something which I know is bad, and how bad that feels exactly happening to someone else - Isn't that in some way why you do the blog you do - to break down the ignorance and ideas which have pained and excluded an already oppressed minority? Well, maybe that is empathy.
I just can't stand the thought of something which I know is bad, and how bad that feels exactly happening to someone else
Yeah, I think that counts as empathy. :)
And yeah, that's why I have that blog. I also do it because it's therapeutic to say "You're wrong and you're a liar" over and over to people who...admittedly, may never read my posts. But they're not really the intended audience.
I can't remember what I did on Thursday but I'm pretty sure it didn't involve vibrators or yaoi.
Yummy - yes, I guess I have to realize that not EVERYONE can be as lucky as me
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