I got my appendix removed!
It was all very exciting, really. The pain became unbearable around 12:15 on Monday morning. I told my parents, and we went to an emergency center. I was there for about three or four hours, strung out on pain medication. I had my first ever CAT scan, and told my mother what I planned to name my children (Celeste and Robb, if you wanted to know.) My very nice doctor told me they were moving me to a hospital to get my appendix removed, and I waited 20 minutes for the paramedics to arrive and cart me off to the hospital in an ambulance! That was also a first for me. We got to the hospital around 5 a.m. and another nice nurse gave me morphine, which knocked me out. I had surgery at noon. The last thing I remember is being asked to breathe deeply, and I woke up with a mask on my face. It sufficiently freaked me out, and I started crying. They gave me little nose things instead to keep my oxygen levels up, and I got to go back to my room. The nurse, named Amber if you were curious, gave me Hydrocodone and Tylenol, and I passed out off and on until 8:30, when my doctor released me from the hospital. And here I am a week later!
I can't lift anything heavier than 10 pounds, take a bath or get in a pool, or exercise strenuously for 6 weeks. I'm not allowed to drive for another week. I can roll onto my side with minimal discomfort now, and I can eat normal portions of food. It's all very exciting and I hope I never have to go through surgery again. Or at least not for a very long time.
Things are better back at home. I'm mending things with my Mom, slowly though. I think there's still some resentment between us but I'm working on it. I've got one more test to take before I get certified to teach. My friends are all talking to me and I had a great day at church. As a side note, Happy Easter!
I'm a little nervous because my Marine friend is coming home this Friday and I'll be allowed to talk to him on a regular basis. I'm afraid I've put him on this pedestal, idealized him and made him something he's not. Also I've only been around him a total of three times so...it's a little early to be thinking about what he looks like naked, right?
Well maybe not too early for that. I mean, I'm only human and he is incredibly attractive. But a relationship? Yeah, it's too early for that kind of thinking. Besides, he might not dig fat chicks, as his best friend has so lovingly reminded me every chance he gets. The point is he's coming home and I'm a little scared. I want him to like me so much it's ridiculous. I want to go out with him and hold his hand and have hot steamy sex with him but also be able to have cutesy moments where he tucks my hair back behind my ear or kisses my neck and wraps his arms around me from behind. I want him to sing with me even though he thinks he has a horrible voice and in return I'll let him pull me out on the dance floor even though I can't dance. I want late night cuddle sessions and Disney movie marathons despite his dislike of them. I want to watch action movies and make out to Ed Sheeran and fall asleep on his chest even though I snore like a bear, but he won't mind because he loves me. I want to wake up to him playing with my hands and running his fingers through my hair. I want him to smile at me in the mornings and kiss me when I least expect it and take me places romantic and fun and peaceful. I want so much and I can see it when I close my eyes and it's scary because he fits into my fantasy so easily even though I've only met him a few times.
Wow, that was really sappy, forgive me. But then again, I'm a pretty sappy person. Anyway, that's what's been going on in my head for the past week. Sorry for putting you through that last paragraph, really.
I'm going to bed!
Later, babes.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
I Have A New One!
Since I left the blog for so long without giving you a single reason why, I have decided to rant about something that's been on my mind a lot as of late.
It's about my mother. I've typically avoided talking about her because I'm not 100% sure she doesn't know this blog exists. I wouldn't put it past her to check up on it regualrly. But I made this blog so I could rant freely, and if she wants to say something to me she can.
She's been all kinds of up my ass about finding a suitable boyfriend. It passed being creepy long ago, let me tell you. It started with a boy in high school. She became strangely attached to him. Like, I would get him his favorite cologne, but she would get him his favorite cologne too, along with six shirts from Hollister and a gift card to his favorite restaurant. She became more attached to him than I was, which was hard because I thought I was in love with him. So when things started going south between us and our friendship started to end, Mom did not do what any rational mother would do and quit talking to him. She instead blamed me for our falling out and took his side on who was to blame for our friendship ending. If anything, the blame was shared between the two of us. But she blamed me for it and we had a fight.
It got better, obviously. We got better, and she eventually saw Travis for what he was: a user and a bully. She severed all ties with him, and we promised to never let that happen again. Then I met Steven.
Now, remember that guy who I obsessed with? He was the subject of quite a few of my previous rants. That's Steven. He's my pastor's son, and I don't think I've ever seen my mother get so excited so fast. She set us up AT THE CHURCH. Within a week she was planning our wedding, and I'm not kidding. We were only together for Fall Break, and I had to go back to Iowa soon, but that didn't stop her. She kept tabs on him while I was in Iowa and reported back to me with everything she had learned. When he started dating another girl, she told me I needed to give him time, that he would come around and I just needed to be patient with him. She talked to my pastor about it and gushed about how perfect we would be together.
She still hasn't let go of that bone. When it became clear to everyone else that he was a dick, she turned a blind eye. I was oblivious to how bad he was, but she refused to see it. Even after I began to notice how awful he was to me, my mother refused to believe it. Though she acts like she doesn't like him, I know deep down in her heart that she still wishes we would get together, because the idea of being family to my pastor's family sounds like heaven. And it would be, if they had another son. But they don't, and the one they have is a giant tool and therefore not a candidate.
I'm pretty sure it's my fault. Mothers shouldn't be this invested in their daughters' love lives. I get wanting to be involved and kept up-to-date, but I never asked her to try her hand at matchmaking. I never told her to stop, but I never asked her to step into my life and try to run it. I don't know how to fix it.
I think that's all I can talk about right now. I'm still processing it, to be honest. I'll probably write more about it, but tonight I'm putting this subject aside.
Talk to y'all later, loves.
It's about my mother. I've typically avoided talking about her because I'm not 100% sure she doesn't know this blog exists. I wouldn't put it past her to check up on it regualrly. But I made this blog so I could rant freely, and if she wants to say something to me she can.
She's been all kinds of up my ass about finding a suitable boyfriend. It passed being creepy long ago, let me tell you. It started with a boy in high school. She became strangely attached to him. Like, I would get him his favorite cologne, but she would get him his favorite cologne too, along with six shirts from Hollister and a gift card to his favorite restaurant. She became more attached to him than I was, which was hard because I thought I was in love with him. So when things started going south between us and our friendship started to end, Mom did not do what any rational mother would do and quit talking to him. She instead blamed me for our falling out and took his side on who was to blame for our friendship ending. If anything, the blame was shared between the two of us. But she blamed me for it and we had a fight.
It got better, obviously. We got better, and she eventually saw Travis for what he was: a user and a bully. She severed all ties with him, and we promised to never let that happen again. Then I met Steven.
Now, remember that guy who I obsessed with? He was the subject of quite a few of my previous rants. That's Steven. He's my pastor's son, and I don't think I've ever seen my mother get so excited so fast. She set us up AT THE CHURCH. Within a week she was planning our wedding, and I'm not kidding. We were only together for Fall Break, and I had to go back to Iowa soon, but that didn't stop her. She kept tabs on him while I was in Iowa and reported back to me with everything she had learned. When he started dating another girl, she told me I needed to give him time, that he would come around and I just needed to be patient with him. She talked to my pastor about it and gushed about how perfect we would be together.
She still hasn't let go of that bone. When it became clear to everyone else that he was a dick, she turned a blind eye. I was oblivious to how bad he was, but she refused to see it. Even after I began to notice how awful he was to me, my mother refused to believe it. Though she acts like she doesn't like him, I know deep down in her heart that she still wishes we would get together, because the idea of being family to my pastor's family sounds like heaven. And it would be, if they had another son. But they don't, and the one they have is a giant tool and therefore not a candidate.
I'm pretty sure it's my fault. Mothers shouldn't be this invested in their daughters' love lives. I get wanting to be involved and kept up-to-date, but I never asked her to try her hand at matchmaking. I never told her to stop, but I never asked her to step into my life and try to run it. I don't know how to fix it.
I think that's all I can talk about right now. I'm still processing it, to be honest. I'll probably write more about it, but tonight I'm putting this subject aside.
Talk to y'all later, loves.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Ranted Out, My Dears
I have no rants to type up.
It's an odd feeling, not having a rant to spew forth into this great chasm of bullshit we call the internet. I mean, plenty of stuff has happened since I last ranted. I'm okay with both my siblings, which is a joy. I got a new haircut! To anyone who doesn't know me well this isn't a big deal. But I've been growing my hair out since I was 16, and as I'm currently 23, it's been a long fucking time. It's layered and everything. I completed my student teaching and am back from Iowa. Miss those little gremlins every day though. My students, that is.
My ex-crush's new girlfriend tried to fix me up with a friend of hers, and that didn't work out so well, seeing as how he stalled our little meet-and-greet when I came back to Texas long enough to find another girl worth dating. I'm not bitter though. Really. I'm glad he found a girl to be sweet on. From what I've heard about his dating experiences, he needed a win. Plus he was three years younger than me. I've never been fond of younger men, and the age difference was throwing me off a bit, if I'm being honest. We did have the same birthday though, which in any other universe would probably make us soul mates or some shit. In this universe it's just a happy coincidence.
I still haven't given up on that certain armed forces officer, though I am struggling to keep it cool and not ruin something before it has a chance to begin. His best friend is already sowing the seeds of doubt and he doesn't need any help from me. I'm trying to start out as friends. I've been told he's really shallow, but I've never read him that way. Then again, his best friend is one of the most materialistic, shallow people I've ever met and I didn't see that until it was way too late. But my fantasy soldier comes home at the beginning of April, so I'll wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Is this making sense? I hope so, really.
I'm still trying to find a job, which isn't going well. But I'm keeping my head up. I've developed a love for British acoustic artists, namely Ed Sheeran and Ben Howard. I've always loved Ed, so I don't think he can count as a new thing. But Ben definitely is. And Frank Ocean, though he's not British. Still fantastic though.
My cousin got engaged, and I felt indescribably old. As happy as I was for him, I couldn't shake off the pity party for myself. He's two years younger than me and he has his life planned out. I can't even get a guy to look at me twice, let alone stick around to get to know me. I promise, even though I'm overweight and not classically beautiful, I'm a good person. I can make awesome cookies, and you'll never find a more dedicated person than me. But I'm shaking all that off. My time will come, and it will be perfect. I hope.
I've discovered that, aside from maybe six friends in my life, I've managed to surround myself with douche bags and users. My unhappiness with my life and my unwillingness to leave the house and go out with other people can be traced back to this discovery. I'm eight kinds of done with this bullshit and ready to drop those who only measure my importance in their life by what I can do for them and how much I'll give them. I'll lose a shitload of people, but are they really worth keeping around if they don't like me for me? I'm thinking not.
Well it seems I've found several things to rant about! Perhaps insomnia isn't all bad. One final though before I leave you for the comfort of my bed. I've recently become a youth sponsor and a Sunday School teacher for junior high students. Those little buggers are slipperier than I remember being at their age. They'll try to get away with murder, or sneaking off with a girl in the middle of a worship concert. I swear, those were the most frustrating 10 minutes of my life, especially when he showed up and acted like nothing was wrong, the little asshole.
Anyway, I'm going to bed.
Ta, loves.
It's an odd feeling, not having a rant to spew forth into this great chasm of bullshit we call the internet. I mean, plenty of stuff has happened since I last ranted. I'm okay with both my siblings, which is a joy. I got a new haircut! To anyone who doesn't know me well this isn't a big deal. But I've been growing my hair out since I was 16, and as I'm currently 23, it's been a long fucking time. It's layered and everything. I completed my student teaching and am back from Iowa. Miss those little gremlins every day though. My students, that is.
My ex-crush's new girlfriend tried to fix me up with a friend of hers, and that didn't work out so well, seeing as how he stalled our little meet-and-greet when I came back to Texas long enough to find another girl worth dating. I'm not bitter though. Really. I'm glad he found a girl to be sweet on. From what I've heard about his dating experiences, he needed a win. Plus he was three years younger than me. I've never been fond of younger men, and the age difference was throwing me off a bit, if I'm being honest. We did have the same birthday though, which in any other universe would probably make us soul mates or some shit. In this universe it's just a happy coincidence.
I still haven't given up on that certain armed forces officer, though I am struggling to keep it cool and not ruin something before it has a chance to begin. His best friend is already sowing the seeds of doubt and he doesn't need any help from me. I'm trying to start out as friends. I've been told he's really shallow, but I've never read him that way. Then again, his best friend is one of the most materialistic, shallow people I've ever met and I didn't see that until it was way too late. But my fantasy soldier comes home at the beginning of April, so I'll wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Is this making sense? I hope so, really.
I'm still trying to find a job, which isn't going well. But I'm keeping my head up. I've developed a love for British acoustic artists, namely Ed Sheeran and Ben Howard. I've always loved Ed, so I don't think he can count as a new thing. But Ben definitely is. And Frank Ocean, though he's not British. Still fantastic though.
My cousin got engaged, and I felt indescribably old. As happy as I was for him, I couldn't shake off the pity party for myself. He's two years younger than me and he has his life planned out. I can't even get a guy to look at me twice, let alone stick around to get to know me. I promise, even though I'm overweight and not classically beautiful, I'm a good person. I can make awesome cookies, and you'll never find a more dedicated person than me. But I'm shaking all that off. My time will come, and it will be perfect. I hope.
I've discovered that, aside from maybe six friends in my life, I've managed to surround myself with douche bags and users. My unhappiness with my life and my unwillingness to leave the house and go out with other people can be traced back to this discovery. I'm eight kinds of done with this bullshit and ready to drop those who only measure my importance in their life by what I can do for them and how much I'll give them. I'll lose a shitload of people, but are they really worth keeping around if they don't like me for me? I'm thinking not.
Well it seems I've found several things to rant about! Perhaps insomnia isn't all bad. One final though before I leave you for the comfort of my bed. I've recently become a youth sponsor and a Sunday School teacher for junior high students. Those little buggers are slipperier than I remember being at their age. They'll try to get away with murder, or sneaking off with a girl in the middle of a worship concert. I swear, those were the most frustrating 10 minutes of my life, especially when he showed up and acted like nothing was wrong, the little asshole.
Anyway, I'm going to bed.
Ta, loves.
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