Hello. I am really freaking paranoid about doctors. And who isn't? THEY ARE EVIL. Only crazy evil obsessed people would spend all that time and money in medical school, doing whatever the heck it is they do in medical school.
I try to avoid seeing doctors at all costs. I will go to a doctor if, A) I am sick, and steadily getting worse rather than better, B) I need a vaccination, and a shot is better than *in hick accent* "dyin' uf lawckjaw" (Also known as Tetanus), or C) I AM FREAKING DYING.
So I really don't have a lot of experience with doctors.
I think that I will tell you about them anyway.
EVIL THINGS DOCTORS DO #1: THE WAITING ROOM
The waiting room is full of crappy old magazines that you can SEE the germs crawling upon. Never ever touch these. Unless it is something funny, like People, or US Weekly, or The National Enquirer.
There are a lot of people coughing in here. Sometimes, the people will cough so hard, their feet come up off the floor. You will probably end up sitting next to this person. In between coughs, this person will keep checking you out, even though you are sick and look terrible. And so do they.
The waiting room also has television. The crappy sort of television that no one, aside from maybe the receptionists, would watch. You know SOMEBODY picks the channels. And the receptionists are the only ones who have to be out there. Therefore, it must be them.
The waiting room, along with the rest of this awful place, has a distinct smell. The smell of doctors, and evil, and fear, and latex. And possibly fake plants. There are often fake plants everywhere. Because fake dusty plants are somehow calming.
#2: THE NURSES
Nurses are not usually bad people. They are usually nice and friendly, and they weigh you, and do all that crap the good doctor is too busy to do.
Sometimes, the nurse happens to be a friend of yours, and you actually kind of have fun, even though your friend is peering inside your mouth and ears with an itty bitty flashlight.
But considering their chosen profession, these people cannot be all good. They stick uberlong Q-Tip thingies down your throat, looking for strep. And you make "Cat with the Hairball of a Lifetime" noises.
Sometimes, they will also stick a similar uberlong Q-tip up your nose. They say they are looking for the flu. I think they really just enjoy it when the patient screams "OH GOD!" (Even if you thought you had laryngitis, you can clearly still scream) and yanks their head away. Or maybe they just like poking your brains. I'm pretty sure that's how far they stick that damn thing up there.
The nurse will try to check your pulse. Sometimes, they can't find your pulse. This is not that alarming, because sometimes, you can't find it yourself (This is obviously not true of all people. Some people have normal pulses. Some people's pulse is just EVERYWHERE, and if you snuggle such people, their pulse keeps thumping you on your head. And then there are some like me, who sometimes seem to lack a pulse altogether.). The nurse will then ask, very seriously, if you are a vampire. You, of course, tell them yes, indeed you are.
If you are lucky, the nurse will check your temperature with the sort of thermometer that goes in your mouth. Sometimes they will use your ear (Which feels creepy) and sometimes use your armpit (And you hope to God you used the proper amount of deodorant. The perfect amount that will prevent the thermometer from coming out, A) Stinky and sweaty, or B) White with deodorant flakes). God forbid they ever try to take your temperature elsewhere (Do they even do that with people? 'Cause that's gross).
The nurse will also take your blood pressure. They wrap the Large Blue Device of Squeezy Death and Tingly Hands around your arm. This device then tries to squeeze your arm off. Sometime, they will also stick what appears to be a large plastic clothespin on your finger. We're not sure what this does. But it sure feels weird doing it.
#3: THE SINISTER MAN HIMSELF APPEARS
After all this is over with, the nurse goes outside to laugh at you. The doctor comes in, and listens your self live and breath and pump and all that jazz.. He makes "Hmmm." noises. It has yet to be determined if these "Hmmms" are positive "Hmmms" or negative "Hmmms'. And the doctor is not about to tell you.
The doctor searches for your pulse. You wish him luck. He says your pulse is a little high. You try to refrain from stating the obvious. "That would be because there is a DOCTOR grabbing my arm. Duh." Sometimes you are really sick, and thus not in the best mood, so you do indeed state the obvious. Only to be polite, you should leave off the "Duh". Remember, this man has probably seen the insides of people numerous times.
Doctor pokes you in the stomach. HARD. He asks if this hurts. That would hurt if you WEREN'T sick, of COURSE it hurts, but you say, "No.", assuming he probably just wants to know if that was abnormal massive pain. He also pokes you in the neck. This also hurts, but he usually doesn't ask about it. He just likes to poke your neck.
The doctor goes out for a bit to laugh at you, and share stories of hilarious sick people with the nurse. Eventually, he comes back, and states that after all that, he doesn't actually know what is wrong with you, but here, take these pills. They're delicious.
Sometimes though, the doctor will come in, and announce that, "The strep test was wonderful!". You take this do mean you do not have strep. You are wrong. You do have strep. And the doctor thinks this is wonderful.
#4: AND NOW YOU GET TO LEAVE
Yayyyy, it's finally almost over! All you have to do now, is pay a whole crapload of cash for the people to poke you. About this time, the horridness of this whole situation catches up with you, and you faint. But since you are way out here where the doctors and nurses can't see you, you are left to enjoy your unconsciousness undisturbed.
Fainting in and of itself could take up a whole blog post. Lord knows I've had enough experience. Some people just gradually black out, losing all sense of touch. You can still hear your head hit the floor though. Some people get tunnel vision. Still others see random things like puppies and ice cream cones floating around. I am one of the gradually blacking out people. I also tend to think random weird things the first few minutes I'm awake again. Such as, "Hey, I wonder what I look like right after I've passed out??" *hops up to look at self in mirror. Is awed by extreme whiteness. Quickly sits back down. Or, "Heeheeheeee, everyone s standing around me looking worried. WORRIED IS HILARIOUS!!" And then they look even more worried, because you woke up giggling after clunking your head on a brick wall.
Then people drive you home. And you blog about it.
Because you have wonderful strep, and nothing better to do.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Weird Random Things #1: The Strangley Popular Thing That Is Twilight
This had been going to be a post on random weird things I took pictures of. But then I realized I had a lot to say on Twilight, PLUS I could do weird random stuff SERIES. Oooooooooooh.
I came across this totally awesome...thing whilst (Did you see that? I said WHILST) roaming around that great, shiny, designer-labeled wonderland that is The Mall.
In FYE (For Your Entertainment. Never fails to get Adam Glambert stuck in my head), there was a cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen (of COURSE). Some really awesome person drew a Hitler 'stache on him.
Friggin' epic? I think so.
Sorry Twihards. *patpat*
I will admit in the books, Edward's a pretty groovy guy, so I can understand why you'd kinda like him. He's a gentleman with old-fashioned good manners (Usually), he drives a shiny car, he composes music, and he saved his virginity for the right person. He saved it for OVER A HUNDRED YEARS. He went through high school numerous times, AND STILL MANAGED TO DO THAT. That takes some mad virgin skillz.
He also supposedly looks, as Stephanie Meyer put it, "Like a Greek god."
I didn't know Edward was Greek. Edward Stephanopolis kinda has a ring to it, though.
Ol' Steph should've made him Greek.
The man who portrays Edward in the movie, however, does NOT look Greek. Or like a god.
Robert Pattinson looks like a hobo. Not only that, but HE FREELY ADMITS TO LOOKING LIKE A HOBO. Ladies, why would you chase after a hobo? And if a hobo, why THIS hobo? You don't all need to fight over the same one. There are plenty to go around. Try Austin, TX.
I really do need to watch the movie again. Maybe I will even make a review of it.
I did read the book, and from what I RECALL, it goes something like this:
Bella goes from living in Phoenix, Arizona, with her mom, to living in Forks, Washington, with her father. Now she has to make new friends at a new high school. A surprisingly friendly high school. I figure there's just not enough students to form cliques, so everyone has to be friends with everyone, if they want any friends at all.
Bella must secretly be the hottest girl ever, because all the guys in the school throw themselves at her. Or maybe it's her stupidity and clumsiness that make them have to protect her, or see her get into some terrible accident for which she may blame them, and sue. "You spilled orange juice on the floor, I slipped on it, fell backwards, crashed through the window, rolled into the parking lot, and was run over by a bus. I SUE YOU, DUDE."
Maybe they are only throwing themselves at her to avoid being sued.
Anyway, she sees Edward, and goes all, "ZOMG GREEK GOD WHO DOESN'T EVEN LOOK GREEK, ZOMG, HE'S THE ONLY GUY WHO IS NOT THROWING HIMSELF AT ME TO AVOID BEING SUED, ZOMG I LOVE HIM."
Edward on the other hand, is all like, "Mmmmmmmm. Delicious. Much better than those after-school cookies mom bakes."
So they argue a lot and act like they hate each other, while secretly falling in love.
That has certainly never been done before.
They run around the meadows, and Edward shows Bella his sparkly chest and lack of abs. Bella seems very impressed. He also chucks around some large heavy things, in an attempt to warn Bella that he might accidentally kill her someday. Bella doesn't care. Because she is stupid. See that last sentence? I didn't even italicize that on purpose. It just came out italicized. Clearly, the internet itself wishes to emphasize Bella's stupidity.
Anyway. Most of the book is just describing Edward's hotness, and non-Greek Greek god-ness.
Or, it is Bella thinking about Edward. Or Bella hurting herself.
I don't remember how much Jacob is actually in this book. Not much. He's just a weird little kid whom Bella messes with. She already KNOWS she must have incredible hotness, since all the guys in school throw themselves at her. Yet she decided to flirt with this poor kid anyway.
So him pursuing her around all the other books is her own fault.
Like every other bad thing that happens.
A shorter version of this book would be: "People got hurt, it was cold and rainy, vampires sparkled, teenage boys were flirted, other teenage boys were not and it made them sad, there were fast cars driving fast, vampires tried to kill people, they messed up a dance studio, AND IT WAS ALL BELLA'S FAULT."
Oh, while I'm at it, here is a link to a hilarious video review of New Moon: Escape to the Movies with Movie Bob
And don't go jumping on me, "Oh, you don't love Twilight. YOU MUST LOVE HARRY POTTER THEN!! RIGHT, RIGHT? COME AND PRETEND TO CAST SPELLS WITH MEEEEE!"
No.
I have read Twilight. Is was silly and amusing. I have watched Twilight. It was silly and amusing.
I have watched the Potter Puppet Pals and the Mysterious Ticking Noise. It was silly and amusing.
But that's it. How do Harry Potter and Twilight even COMPETE? One is a bunch of crazy wizard people things flying around and defeating the same noseless bad guy over and over. (Or, so I have heard.)
Twilight is a bunch of "sexy" immortal, semi-immortal, and not immortal at all but just as stupid, men going after the world's dumbest female. Seriously, she JUMPS OFF CLIFFS. In order to hallucinate and see Edward after he runs away to Italy.
They're completely different. Thus I am confused.
Terribly confused.
I came across this totally awesome...thing whilst (Did you see that? I said WHILST) roaming around that great, shiny, designer-labeled wonderland that is The Mall.
In FYE (For Your Entertainment. Never fails to get Adam Glambert stuck in my head), there was a cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen (of COURSE). Some really awesome person drew a Hitler 'stache on him.
Friggin' epic? I think so.
I will admit in the books, Edward's a pretty groovy guy, so I can understand why you'd kinda like him. He's a gentleman with old-fashioned good manners (Usually), he drives a shiny car, he composes music, and he saved his virginity for the right person. He saved it for OVER A HUNDRED YEARS. He went through high school numerous times, AND STILL MANAGED TO DO THAT. That takes some mad virgin skillz.
He also supposedly looks, as Stephanie Meyer put it, "Like a Greek god."
I didn't know Edward was Greek. Edward Stephanopolis kinda has a ring to it, though.
Ol' Steph should've made him Greek.
The man who portrays Edward in the movie, however, does NOT look Greek. Or like a god.
Robert Pattinson looks like a hobo. Not only that, but HE FREELY ADMITS TO LOOKING LIKE A HOBO. Ladies, why would you chase after a hobo? And if a hobo, why THIS hobo? You don't all need to fight over the same one. There are plenty to go around. Try Austin, TX.
I really do need to watch the movie again. Maybe I will even make a review of it.
I did read the book, and from what I RECALL, it goes something like this:
Bella goes from living in Phoenix, Arizona, with her mom, to living in Forks, Washington, with her father. Now she has to make new friends at a new high school. A surprisingly friendly high school. I figure there's just not enough students to form cliques, so everyone has to be friends with everyone, if they want any friends at all.
Bella must secretly be the hottest girl ever, because all the guys in the school throw themselves at her. Or maybe it's her stupidity and clumsiness that make them have to protect her, or see her get into some terrible accident for which she may blame them, and sue. "You spilled orange juice on the floor, I slipped on it, fell backwards, crashed through the window, rolled into the parking lot, and was run over by a bus. I SUE YOU, DUDE."
Maybe they are only throwing themselves at her to avoid being sued.
Anyway, she sees Edward, and goes all, "ZOMG GREEK GOD WHO DOESN'T EVEN LOOK GREEK, ZOMG, HE'S THE ONLY GUY WHO IS NOT THROWING HIMSELF AT ME TO AVOID BEING SUED, ZOMG I LOVE HIM."
Edward on the other hand, is all like, "Mmmmmmmm. Delicious. Much better than those after-school cookies mom bakes."
So they argue a lot and act like they hate each other, while secretly falling in love.
That has certainly never been done before.
They run around the meadows, and Edward shows Bella his sparkly chest and lack of abs. Bella seems very impressed. He also chucks around some large heavy things, in an attempt to warn Bella that he might accidentally kill her someday. Bella doesn't care. Because she is stupid. See that last sentence? I didn't even italicize that on purpose. It just came out italicized. Clearly, the internet itself wishes to emphasize Bella's stupidity.
Anyway. Most of the book is just describing Edward's hotness, and non-Greek Greek god-ness.
Or, it is Bella thinking about Edward. Or Bella hurting herself.
I don't remember how much Jacob is actually in this book. Not much. He's just a weird little kid whom Bella messes with. She already KNOWS she must have incredible hotness, since all the guys in school throw themselves at her. Yet she decided to flirt with this poor kid anyway.
So him pursuing her around all the other books is her own fault.
Like every other bad thing that happens.
A shorter version of this book would be: "People got hurt, it was cold and rainy, vampires sparkled, teenage boys were flirted, other teenage boys were not and it made them sad, there were fast cars driving fast, vampires tried to kill people, they messed up a dance studio, AND IT WAS ALL BELLA'S FAULT."
Oh, while I'm at it, here is a link to a hilarious video review of New Moon: Escape to the Movies with Movie Bob
And don't go jumping on me, "Oh, you don't love Twilight. YOU MUST LOVE HARRY POTTER THEN!! RIGHT, RIGHT? COME AND PRETEND TO CAST SPELLS WITH MEEEEE!"
No.
I have read Twilight. Is was silly and amusing. I have watched Twilight. It was silly and amusing.
I have watched the Potter Puppet Pals and the Mysterious Ticking Noise. It was silly and amusing.
But that's it. How do Harry Potter and Twilight even COMPETE? One is a bunch of crazy wizard people things flying around and defeating the same noseless bad guy over and over. (Or, so I have heard.)
Twilight is a bunch of "sexy" immortal, semi-immortal, and not immortal at all but just as stupid, men going after the world's dumbest female. Seriously, she JUMPS OFF CLIFFS. In order to hallucinate and see Edward after he runs away to Italy.
They're completely different. Thus I am confused.
Terribly confused.
Friday, January 07, 2011
Today I Opened My Mathbook
This. This is what I saw.
All those words. All those numbers. All those variables. All those lines that are sort of like those division diving-boards.*
Why? Why would you start a lesson like THIS? Okay, they didn't START it like this. The first page was about ellipses. Something about string and pencils. Whatever it was, I mostly forgot it after I saw this.
I stared at it. I turned off my music (I Wish I Had an Angel, by Nightwish. For the record, I like both Tarja and Annette. I refuse to take a side in the matter). I stared at it some more. I tried to read over it, but I wasn't particularly successful. I literally spent ten minutes just looking at this page and trying to focus enough to figure out what they were trying to say. I eventually just turned the page to see what lay beyond.
Not this.
Thank God.
It was examples for the problems that would be coming in the lesson. The examples were perfectly comprehensible. I didn't see anything that looked like that terrible mass of numbers on the previous page.
I'm still not entirely sure what that wall of text was supposed to mean.
It did make me realize how tired and sore I actually am today. It was the first week back at dance after three weeks off (Two week Christmas vacation. One week sick) so my legs hurt. I guess I slept wrong last night, because now my neck hurts.
When your neck hurts, be very careful drying your hair. Do not forget your neck hurts, and do that puppy-dog head shake from force of habit. JUST DON'T.
Anyway.
I closed my math book. I know I'll be able to comprehend what I'm supposed to do.
But I think that profusion of numbers and variables kind of made me lose the will to live.
In fact, I didn't realize until I saw this mass of math that some fairly sucky things happened this week.
Monday I was randomly mood swingy and felt like crap, so I had to go have a good cry and then I felt better (You ladies know how THAT is. Maybe some of you dudes do too. But probably not. That would just be kinda weird. Sorry dudes.)
Tuesday does not belong here in the pessimistic blah section. I don't mind going to the orthodontist. They're all fun to talk to. And I get my braces off in February. :D
Wednesday was the first day back at dance. I was really happy, don't get me wrong. I just did a lot of turns and went full-out a bit too much, and kinda blacked out a little in the back room. I also sorta fell against the refrigerator. But I didn't tell anybody that part. They might tell me to sit down and be careful or something. And I felt better later anyway.
Thursday was good too. :D
So not that many sucky things. But such an abundance of arithmetic really makes you think, "Oh jeez. Who? Why? What was WRONG with them? And now I have to learn this. I have to know this. Whyyyyy do I have to know this? This sucks. Huh. All that other stuff this week sucked too. I should be depressed.....Nope, I suck at being depressed. I CAN'T EVEN BE DEPRESSED RIGHT, OH MY GOSH. I'm too happy to be depressed. But I'm thinking of depressing things. I CAN'T EVEN BE AN OPTIMIST RIGHT, OH MY GOSH."
And then you take a picture of your math. And you close the book. And you blog about it.
And then you realize there is one thing you are wonderfully good at.
If procrastination was an Olympic sport, you'd take the gold......eventually.
* I totally forgot I stuck one of these star-thingies (Yes, I KNOW it's an asterisk. Star-thingie is more fun.) next to the division-diving-board thing. I thought I'd explain. You know how in division (Without a calculator. ON PAPER. Ooooooooooh.) you're putting little numbers onto top of that line? They're like, lining up to jump off the diving board. SEE? And then it's really fun if there's a remainder, because the remainder is going to come up behind them all, and push one, creating a lovely domino-effect.
This is possibly why math takes me so long. I'm busy thinking up things like THIS.
ADD? Meeee? ADHD? Of course not.
Well....maybe. But that's everybody else's excuse
I can make up my own excuses.
I don't sleep, I should be depressed, and my neck hurts. I could never concentrate on PRECALCULUS in such a state.
Never ever.
Why? Why would you start a lesson like THIS? Okay, they didn't START it like this. The first page was about ellipses. Something about string and pencils. Whatever it was, I mostly forgot it after I saw this.
I stared at it. I turned off my music (I Wish I Had an Angel, by Nightwish. For the record, I like both Tarja and Annette. I refuse to take a side in the matter). I stared at it some more. I tried to read over it, but I wasn't particularly successful. I literally spent ten minutes just looking at this page and trying to focus enough to figure out what they were trying to say. I eventually just turned the page to see what lay beyond.
Not this.
Thank God.
It was examples for the problems that would be coming in the lesson. The examples were perfectly comprehensible. I didn't see anything that looked like that terrible mass of numbers on the previous page.
I'm still not entirely sure what that wall of text was supposed to mean.
It did make me realize how tired and sore I actually am today. It was the first week back at dance after three weeks off (Two week Christmas vacation. One week sick) so my legs hurt. I guess I slept wrong last night, because now my neck hurts.
When your neck hurts, be very careful drying your hair. Do not forget your neck hurts, and do that puppy-dog head shake from force of habit. JUST DON'T.
Anyway.
I closed my math book. I know I'll be able to comprehend what I'm supposed to do.
But I think that profusion of numbers and variables kind of made me lose the will to live.
In fact, I didn't realize until I saw this mass of math that some fairly sucky things happened this week.
Monday I was randomly mood swingy and felt like crap, so I had to go have a good cry and then I felt better (You ladies know how THAT is. Maybe some of you dudes do too. But probably not. That would just be kinda weird. Sorry dudes.)
Tuesday does not belong here in the pessimistic blah section. I don't mind going to the orthodontist. They're all fun to talk to. And I get my braces off in February. :D
Wednesday was the first day back at dance. I was really happy, don't get me wrong. I just did a lot of turns and went full-out a bit too much, and kinda blacked out a little in the back room. I also sorta fell against the refrigerator. But I didn't tell anybody that part. They might tell me to sit down and be careful or something. And I felt better later anyway.
Thursday was good too. :D
So not that many sucky things. But such an abundance of arithmetic really makes you think, "Oh jeez. Who? Why? What was WRONG with them? And now I have to learn this. I have to know this. Whyyyyy do I have to know this? This sucks. Huh. All that other stuff this week sucked too. I should be depressed.....Nope, I suck at being depressed. I CAN'T EVEN BE DEPRESSED RIGHT, OH MY GOSH. I'm too happy to be depressed. But I'm thinking of depressing things. I CAN'T EVEN BE AN OPTIMIST RIGHT, OH MY GOSH."
And then you take a picture of your math. And you close the book. And you blog about it.
And then you realize there is one thing you are wonderfully good at.
If procrastination was an Olympic sport, you'd take the gold......eventually.
* I totally forgot I stuck one of these star-thingies (Yes, I KNOW it's an asterisk. Star-thingie is more fun.) next to the division-diving-board thing. I thought I'd explain. You know how in division (Without a calculator. ON PAPER. Ooooooooooh.) you're putting little numbers onto top of that line? They're like, lining up to jump off the diving board. SEE? And then it's really fun if there's a remainder, because the remainder is going to come up behind them all, and push one, creating a lovely domino-effect.
This is possibly why math takes me so long. I'm busy thinking up things like THIS.
ADD? Meeee? ADHD? Of course not.
Well....maybe. But that's everybody else's excuse
I can make up my own excuses.
I don't sleep, I should be depressed, and my neck hurts. I could never concentrate on PRECALCULUS in such a state.
Never ever.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
That Night I Did Not Sleep
Okay, so clearly, from my username/URL thingie you all know by now that I am not very good at sleeping. I can do it. It's just hard to GET there.
A few weeks ago, the town in which I live had it's annual Christmas party on the Square. My town tries really hard to be artsy and awesome, and we have all kinds of artsy booths, and parades, and Bethlehem, and dancing, and music, and weird people giving you free cookies and their church's business card, which I didn't entirely know churches had.
It's an event that you would like to be well rested for.
No such luck.
I could tell I wasn't really sleepy, so I took a Tylenol PM a little after I took my regular nightly antihistamine. It didn't really help. I took another an hour later. Don't freak, I'm not overdosing. Full dose is two pills.
By around 3:30 am I was really tired, and not sure why I was still awake.
Okay, one reason was that one of my cats, Bambi Sue, was jumping on me repeatedly and scratching my arm up.
But other than THAT, I should be asleep, right?
I started to go a little crazy around 4:00. I started counting sheep. I don't know why I tried it. That never works for me, because sheep counting always goes like this: One sheep over the fence....you go, sheep. Two sheep. Three. Four. Fivesix. Seven, eight. Two Siamese twin sheep. Pregnant sheep. Farmer Dan. Farmer Dan's wife, Hildegard, churning butter and flying over the fence. Old Blue. Bessie the cow. Twelve sheep. Thirteen sheep. Three geese. Sheriff Gomez. Old Man Jenkins. A potted plant. Fourteen sheep. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Rick Moranis. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.
I was sleepier before I started, wasn't I? Thanks a lot, Rick Moranis.
At 4:30 I realized that no matter what, I was going to be sleep deprived the next day. I thought I was crazy before. Now this, this was true insanity. I started thinking up all sorts of things to keep myself entertained. I eventually came up with an imaginary sock puppet whom I christened Tim. I put Tim into all kinds of scenes and occupations.
I will attempt to demonstrate one using MS Paint. Which I will open as soon as Internet Explorer stops being retarded in the corner. I haven't used you in like, a year, Internet Explorer. Why did you choose now to spontaneously open?
That is why I do not use you, Internet Explorer.
There. Okay, so here is Tim the Sock Puppet in all his 100% cotton glory:
No, there is no arm inside Tim. Tim is his own man. I thought about drawing an arm though.
And here is my favorite of Tim's various adventures.
I think the saloon babes are checking him out.
He was a bunch of other stuff too. Like a plumber, and a banker, and a chef, and a ninja.
This is why I will never do drugs. I get like this on ANTIHISTAMINE (And a little Tylenol PM). Lord preserve us all if I ever tried actual illegal drugs.
I think the universe would implode.
Anyway.
By about 5:30, I decided I was not going to get up the next morning. I was going to get some sleep, damn it.
I grabbed the notepad on my nightstand, grabbed the nearest writing implement, and staggered to the bathroom to write my family a note. This had to be done in the bathroom because I share a bedroom with my sister, and can't just turn on the lights, or she would probably kill me. Scratch that. She'd try to ask what I was doing, but it would be all mumbly and slurry, and I'd tell her, and she'd roll over and go back to sleep (Which is less frightening than what I would do in the same situation. I'd kill you violently on the spot, then roll over and go back to sleep) . But she might kill me later. I think she might kill me now. She's trying to sleep. It's 1:19 am. I'll finish in the morning. o.o
So it's morning now. Last night, I went to sleep. I dreamed that me and Evan kept sneaking off in the night so we could be together ALL THE TIME. :D And there certainly wasn't any dirty stuff going on, my dreams like to keep a PG rating. We watched movies, and played cards, and then we went to sleep. XD
And Evan's brother appeared to be living in the pantry, which was kind of weird.
Anyway, where I was I? Oh yeah, I was writing a note. The note read, "HEY ALL YOU PEOPLE- Guess what time it is? 5:45am. Guess what I haven't been doing ALL NIGHT? Sleeping. I've tried everything from counting sheep to making stories about a sock puppet named Tim {Clearly this whole Tim thing was a big deal that night} and nothing works. If I'm actually sleeping tomorrow, please don't wake me up. Just go to the parade without me. I'll live."
And they did not wake me up. I finally fell asleep a little after six, and slept until about eleven. The parade was at noon, and I'm so glad I didn't go. Some of the "floats" they had were just trucks. How terribly exciting. Like most parades. I will watch part of the Rose Parade on TV, and that's enough parade for the year.
Due to the lack of sleep, and the weirdness of the night before, the day of festivities was a strange day indeed. I'd have skipped it altogether if I hadn't been dancing in it. I was strange and mildly loopy most of the day, but started feeling better in the late afternoon. For performance time, adrenaline took over, which was a very nice thing for it to do. That woke me up. Of course, Evan got dragged along to this performance. Okay, not really dragging. He likes it. He probably even likes carrying some of my stuff for me. He's an agreeable sort of dude.
Evan and I wandered around the booths and admired the shiny things. I hadn't bothered to bring regular clothes, so I wandered around in my fluffy red and white tap costume, thus when wiggling through crowds I could say, "Excuse me, excuse mee. I'm little, and cute, and fluffy, excuse me.". We wandered into Bethlehem, where my little sister's friend, Chloe, was "working". Chloe told us she had gold coins and started digging all up under her robe to find them. She was wearing jeans under her robe, but it was still a little disturbing.
It actually ended up being a really good day. In fact, by the end of the day, I wasn't that tired.
I DID get to fall asleep earlier than usual. Before 2. :O And I slept all the way through the night. And I woke up a little after 11.
And there appeared to be nobody home, which weirded me out until I found my mom, who told me everyone had gone birthday shopping for my grandma, and they were afraid to wake me up in case I'd had two bad nights in a row. It was fine by me. I'll take all the extra sleep I can get.
And I needed it, after the Night of No Sleep.
That's not even the first time this has happened. But because of Tim, it is the most interesting.
A few weeks ago, the town in which I live had it's annual Christmas party on the Square. My town tries really hard to be artsy and awesome, and we have all kinds of artsy booths, and parades, and Bethlehem, and dancing, and music, and weird people giving you free cookies and their church's business card, which I didn't entirely know churches had.
It's an event that you would like to be well rested for.
No such luck.
I could tell I wasn't really sleepy, so I took a Tylenol PM a little after I took my regular nightly antihistamine. It didn't really help. I took another an hour later. Don't freak, I'm not overdosing. Full dose is two pills.
By around 3:30 am I was really tired, and not sure why I was still awake.
Okay, one reason was that one of my cats, Bambi Sue, was jumping on me repeatedly and scratching my arm up.
But other than THAT, I should be asleep, right?
I started to go a little crazy around 4:00. I started counting sheep. I don't know why I tried it. That never works for me, because sheep counting always goes like this: One sheep over the fence....you go, sheep. Two sheep. Three. Four. Fivesix. Seven, eight. Two Siamese twin sheep. Pregnant sheep. Farmer Dan. Farmer Dan's wife, Hildegard, churning butter and flying over the fence. Old Blue. Bessie the cow. Twelve sheep. Thirteen sheep. Three geese. Sheriff Gomez. Old Man Jenkins. A potted plant. Fourteen sheep. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Rick Moranis. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.
I was sleepier before I started, wasn't I? Thanks a lot, Rick Moranis.
At 4:30 I realized that no matter what, I was going to be sleep deprived the next day. I thought I was crazy before. Now this, this was true insanity. I started thinking up all sorts of things to keep myself entertained. I eventually came up with an imaginary sock puppet whom I christened Tim. I put Tim into all kinds of scenes and occupations.
I will attempt to demonstrate one using MS Paint. Which I will open as soon as Internet Explorer stops being retarded in the corner. I haven't used you in like, a year, Internet Explorer. Why did you choose now to spontaneously open?
That is why I do not use you, Internet Explorer.
There. Okay, so here is Tim the Sock Puppet in all his 100% cotton glory:
No, there is no arm inside Tim. Tim is his own man. I thought about drawing an arm though.
And here is my favorite of Tim's various adventures.
I think the saloon babes are checking him out.
He was a bunch of other stuff too. Like a plumber, and a banker, and a chef, and a ninja.
This is why I will never do drugs. I get like this on ANTIHISTAMINE (And a little Tylenol PM). Lord preserve us all if I ever tried actual illegal drugs.
I think the universe would implode.
Anyway.
By about 5:30, I decided I was not going to get up the next morning. I was going to get some sleep, damn it.
I grabbed the notepad on my nightstand, grabbed the nearest writing implement, and staggered to the bathroom to write my family a note. This had to be done in the bathroom because I share a bedroom with my sister, and can't just turn on the lights, or she would probably kill me. Scratch that. She'd try to ask what I was doing, but it would be all mumbly and slurry, and I'd tell her, and she'd roll over and go back to sleep (Which is less frightening than what I would do in the same situation. I'd kill you violently on the spot, then roll over and go back to sleep) . But she might kill me later. I think she might kill me now. She's trying to sleep. It's 1:19 am. I'll finish in the morning. o.o
So it's morning now. Last night, I went to sleep. I dreamed that me and Evan kept sneaking off in the night so we could be together ALL THE TIME. :D And there certainly wasn't any dirty stuff going on, my dreams like to keep a PG rating. We watched movies, and played cards, and then we went to sleep. XD
And Evan's brother appeared to be living in the pantry, which was kind of weird.
Anyway, where I was I? Oh yeah, I was writing a note. The note read, "HEY ALL YOU PEOPLE- Guess what time it is? 5:45am. Guess what I haven't been doing ALL NIGHT? Sleeping. I've tried everything from counting sheep to making stories about a sock puppet named Tim {Clearly this whole Tim thing was a big deal that night} and nothing works. If I'm actually sleeping tomorrow, please don't wake me up. Just go to the parade without me. I'll live."
And they did not wake me up. I finally fell asleep a little after six, and slept until about eleven. The parade was at noon, and I'm so glad I didn't go. Some of the "floats" they had were just trucks. How terribly exciting. Like most parades. I will watch part of the Rose Parade on TV, and that's enough parade for the year.
Due to the lack of sleep, and the weirdness of the night before, the day of festivities was a strange day indeed. I'd have skipped it altogether if I hadn't been dancing in it. I was strange and mildly loopy most of the day, but started feeling better in the late afternoon. For performance time, adrenaline took over, which was a very nice thing for it to do. That woke me up. Of course, Evan got dragged along to this performance. Okay, not really dragging. He likes it. He probably even likes carrying some of my stuff for me. He's an agreeable sort of dude.
Evan and I wandered around the booths and admired the shiny things. I hadn't bothered to bring regular clothes, so I wandered around in my fluffy red and white tap costume, thus when wiggling through crowds I could say, "Excuse me, excuse mee. I'm little, and cute, and fluffy, excuse me.". We wandered into Bethlehem, where my little sister's friend, Chloe, was "working". Chloe told us she had gold coins and started digging all up under her robe to find them. She was wearing jeans under her robe, but it was still a little disturbing.
It actually ended up being a really good day. In fact, by the end of the day, I wasn't that tired.
I DID get to fall asleep earlier than usual. Before 2. :O And I slept all the way through the night. And I woke up a little after 11.
And there appeared to be nobody home, which weirded me out until I found my mom, who told me everyone had gone birthday shopping for my grandma, and they were afraid to wake me up in case I'd had two bad nights in a row. It was fine by me. I'll take all the extra sleep I can get.
And I needed it, after the Night of No Sleep.
That's not even the first time this has happened. But because of Tim, it is the most interesting.
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