Again, still knocked up.
I’m starting to sound like a broken record, aren’t I?
I’m beginning to feel guilty of asking for so much time off from work, when the kid seems to be a permanent attachment to my insides. I read Carl’s FB post and he’s having a hard time grading papers, doing lectures and making PowerPoints for upcoming lectures, all while writing the third exam. I love his lines “I’d fucking fail this goddamned exam, if I had to take it! That’s how little I know this psychobabble I’m preaching to sleeping pharm students every morning and afternoon!” I think there was a GIF of my work ID photo burning as the icon. But, Carl, you wanted to be a full time professor! That’s what you told my boss! You even suggested that you be promoted just because you couldn’t get pregnant, in your own words, you were unpregnantable, a word that doesn’t exist, by the way, and therefore you were more reliable, responsible and respectable than I. Little did you know that I was over sixty percent of the meat in the exams, PowerPoints, Lecture notes, grades, and even the handouts and the agenda. I was that valuable.
Still, his brother is my dream man, so I’m going to forgive him this once, pretend that I was deaf at that staff meeting, and offer to come in and grade some papers or just go through the online grade book and assign everyone an F because that’s what they deserve if Carl is telling the truth and people are sleeping through his lectures. I say “if” because I know Carl lied about being more responsible than I (he’s behind in everything and it’s almost two weeks out of Spring Break!), he’s certainly not more respectable, naming names on his Facebook, friending students (my personal NO) and then linking to their profiles when he goes on a profanity-ridden fit when he’s frustrated, and forget reliable. Maybe Carl is pregnant? That’s got to be what’s wrong with him. He’s demanding help from other Assistant Professors tonight, and when they decline because they don’t want to get behind in their own work, he calls them irresponsible and lazy! Oh Carl, you are so not getting promoted in August.
So, since I’m legally going to be pregnant until August, and Mark told me to get rid of the brain tumor while I was off for four months, I feel that I should be doing something productive. Something. Anything. I even made Josh a PlayList for March because I just want something to keep my fingers busy, I’m sick of this …disease… that I caught from unsanitary Carl at the staff meeting a few weeks ago, and I need to occupy my mind. I need something to do. Something that makes me feel accomplished. Something that I can look back on and say, “I did so much while I was waiting for that kid to be born!” that I’m willing to sit down at my computer and write.
So I’m going to work on this site.
By “working on this site,” I’m going to start by changing my handle to “Acid Queen” but that’s not an LSD reference. Not for me anyway, and I’m not secretly Tina Turner nor have I fucked Roger Daltrey or any other member of the Who. I like the name, and I once drank a flask of hydrochloric acid in high school chemistry, I lived, cancer-ridden but alive, and still here to talk about it today.
Being the Acid Queen is one of what I consider one of my stories.
By stories I mean interesting things that have only happened to me.
Back in the day, before the perils of being forced to upgrade to WordPress because Josh is a cunt and makes me do uncomfortable things, I had pages on here of my stories. They were 100% true fascinating things that had happened to me in my twenty-eight years on Earth. I’m going to be thirty-three, the Jesus age, this year, so I think I should have an accomplished and full website like I had once before. Oh yes, this site, due to my own negligence, has become just a shell of what it was just a mere five years ago. When I first had my own .com and was in college and thus had a lot of time on the computer to write, I frequently wrote about things that made me interesting. I edited my own HTML (remember that? do you even know what that is???), made layouts on the college’s Dreamweaver, uploaded with Blogger.com and an FTP client. I had to link to all my own pages with my own editing. Nothing was automatic like it is with WordPress. You kiddies don’t know! Blogging and site maintenance was once something that required time, skill and patience. Now anyone with a fucking keyboard can be a site master and appear to be good at it.
What will my stories contain? That’s the wonderment of you’ve got to keep coming back here and checking things! I can give you a taste, though, for example, did you know that I had a lover who died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks on New York? That I’ve fucked someone super-famous (it’s not Roger Daltrey, I promise!)? Actually two someones, but sex no longer counts once you marry the one you’re fucking. That there is a famous love song out there that is about me? That for the first fifteen years of our relationship I couldn’t tell my husband from his brother and his brother regularly got sex from me because of it? Okay, that last one is just me being a horny bimbo, but, hey, it’s interesting, right? I could make something of it some day! The best of all of this is I am considering naming names. Famous names. That are on Wikipedia and you’ve probably not only heard of, but that you’ve got songs by on your computer or your CD shelf.
Now that you know all that, aren’t you just itching for me to dish, dish, dish?
Of course you are! But I’m doing this as a side pregnancy project and only through August, though I can probably whip up to thirty pages per month, if I’m really dedicated to it.
Oh, and I promise not to write about drug experiences, with the exception of the prescription drug I was given that caused amnesia. That was a pretty fun experience. I could do shit and not have to feel guilty about it the morning after. I pissed off a pretty good amount of people while I was on that drug. Oh well. The true ones stayed.
Have a good night everyone. Don’t stay up too late!
I don’t know what is wrong with this site. I don’t know if it is my WordPress
installation or the Plugins, or something else. It keeps failing, and I really want to know why. This seems to be only happening on this server and with this theme. I’d hate to have to change themes just to have it do it again and I have to deactivate all my plugins and then slowly eliminate one every day as it “breaks” so easily. Maybe this is a bug with the new WordPress version? I’m not sure. If there are any WordPress techs out there that want to help me, let me know, because I could certainly use your help right about now! This website is making me want to tear my hair out. I’m thinking about exporting my entries and just changing hosts, although I would hate to do that because I worked so hard at tweaking this one until it was juuuuust right.
I’ve been so tired lately, falling asleep at 6pm and waking up every hour or so during the night, only to force myself back to sleep. It’s so weird. I want to stay asleep, but when I am awake, I feel like I am just going to pass out at any moment. I’m on a 500 Calories or Less diet, doctor’s orders, until my appointment on the 16th. I’m afraid if I don’t lose that 20 lbs and be in the 140s come August 16th, he can legally have me put in a mental hospital. It’s not like he’s never threatened to do it before. I’ve been bullied by this ass for the last four years. “Take this!” “Do that!” “Have this procedure done!” “Don’t do [this]!” and if I don’t want to? “Well, I guess you need a three month psych evaluation again. Maybe they let you out a little too early? Maybe you need to stay for a year or five this time?” And so whatever he tells me to do, I do it. Lose weight. Take pills that make the room spin. Only eat 500 or less Calories a day and suffer blood glucose levels of 48 or lower on a daily basis. Pay outrageous costs for drug testing that we both know will be positive because I am on Fentanyl. For a while I was paying for pregnancy tests, and he was the man who ordered my hysterectomy! This time it was “get your weight down to the 110s or ‘be evaluated’ again.” And here I am, starving. My food consists of a half a sandwich and two to three cans of pop a day.
I usually wear out by 6pm. I wake around 12am with severe neck pain and tail-bone pain. I ask for something to be done about that, and not just doped up with more narcotics, I meant x-rays and suggestions or telling Dennis that we need to get some more pillows or add some more water to the bed, and dear doc acts like I have a drug problem. No, it’s just easier to get Dennis to help me out if a doctor sides in with me that I need the physical help.
I really don’t know what to do. If I change physicians, I know my doctor will not release my records. He wrote them, they are his property. If I want to buy them, fine. $100 per sheet. $6,000 minimum. I’m also reminded that not a lot of doctors in the area take insurance-less patients, something about how their liability insurance doesn’t cover them as well as someone an insurance company covers. This is probably where I’m supposed to read between the lines and see where he’s going to put something in my records or prevent me from getting another physician to take on my medical case. He’d do it too.
But this is just until the 16th. I can hold out till then.
You can now add your own link to Scram! So click there and get adding! You have to have this site linked before you can submit your own site, though. After all, it’s a link exchange, not a solo page of links, anymore.
I wish I had some good news to report, or something. So far all I have to report on is that at least I am trying to get better. Not really working at it, but trying hard. I opted not to teach summer school this year, in hopes that I can somewhat get my old job back. Even if I had to work with Michelle and Lance again, it would be worth it to do what I truly love and to be where I truly belong. Looking at my professor ratings, I thought the students would trash the shit out of me. I know I hated professors like me back when I was in school, but looking at the “grades” they gave me, many of them loved that I kept them on their toes during tests and exams. One questioned if English was my first language (it is, I promise! No matter how badly I butcher it, it’s because I never heard it for the first ten years of my life, and then I was brought up to learn creole), and a few questioned why I was teaching (with a husband like mine, I guess I’m not supposed to want to do anything to stimulate my mind). Overall the reviews were pretty good. I challenged the students and they responded positively. I think there were only three students to fail the course completely, and either they loved me too, or they didn’t submit a review. At the comments section, some were asking (hoping) that I was going to teach this summer, or this fall. I feel like a bitch in taking that away from them, but I have to go in pursuit of my own dreams and happiness, even if that leaves a class of hopefuls behind. Richard said that most assistant professors hold other full time jobs, but I don’t want to run any more. My boys are already potty trained and I wasn’t a part of it. I enjoyed teaching, something that I vowed to do once I became a pharmacist, but now it’s time to focus on doing what I want. When I’m ready to retire, I promise, I’ll teach pharm classes until it goes out of style.
Lil baby James is doing so much better tonight. He got well without any intervention from me. The boys are too young to recover without my help! It shouldn’t be this way! They need to know that momma will always be there for them, no matter what! So there’s some more inspiration as to why I need to be home more often. I feel as though my life is running away with itself and I’m not going to be around for the better things in life. Things that I have now that aren’t going to be here forever.
Dennis is away on the road. Out with friends for “one more night”. I have to admit that I felt bad when I kissed him goodbye last night at the airport, and that feeling was with me throughout the day, and the pain that I suffered through, and part of today. I’m getting too used to him being home. That’s bad. I’ve been alone before, but I didn’t opt to be out this summer just to sit at home and take care of the little ones. I want to go out, I want to share chocolate shakes and snack on ice cream sandwiches, home made. I wanted to bake cookies with him, just once more. Maybe spend the summer on the ocean side. That is something that I have always wanted to do. Spend some serious time by the ocean. Just me and my little family. No crowds, no people calling at three AM to inform me they hate me for marrying their pop star. But just the ocean waves crashing against the sandy beach. I could introduce the kids to the ocean and ocean life. I could get back in touch with swimming and playing in the sand. It’s been a long time since I touched the sandy beaches or played in the chilly Atlantic Ocean. Maybe too long. But I can dream, can’t I?
I feel safe to blog without any inhabitions again. I’m sure inhabitions is grossly misspelled, but I don’t care. For the first time in a long time, I feel safe to write again. And that is a huge relief off of my shoulders. While I have downloaded my previous blog and have it put away for a special rainy day, when I can read it again. Writing is what helps set my soul free, and it’s something that I have always enjoyed doing. I meant to make this come back several years ago, I wanted to work on it. But there were other things going on in my life that I couldn’t simply sit down and write on a blog, save other blogs and such. But as of today, I am going to clean up my part of the internet. Why not? It’s been a long time coming.
I have to be at the doctor’s in an hour. The situation here is strained at best. Everyone wants to do this or that, they don’t want to sit down and discuss what is going on vs. what it is doing to us as a family. At this point, from what they have been exposed to, I wouldn’t be surprised if my kids grew up to be substance abusers, or if they’re won’t become one in a few years. I know I would.
Actually, I was exposed to much worse as a child, as when my parents got done physically abusing each other, they turned on me, the only minor in the house and there fore the only person they thought could never tell what happened to her. Right. I told everyone I came across, except it all fell on deaf ears. Nothing was done.
Here’s hoping that I am still sane enough to be sent home from the clinic.
Something weird happened as I was finishing this entry. My keyboard went nuts and started deleting everything. I had to take its batteries out. I don’t have the time to check it right now, but I will when, and if, I get home.
My site was down for over 24 hours. While that’s not uncommon, I sent an email to my hosts asking what the problem was. I got no response. All of my files were in the FTP program, so I knew it wasn’t a crash, and it wasn’t a hack because my other site was down as well, and that site does not have any software installed on it. For a short time yesterday, the site was available. Then it would redirect to wilwheaton.net, as if he needed more hits. My payment is due this month, but not until the 26th, and I thought I should at least get a reply. Then my emails were coming through.Then my site was back up. I’m thinking of minimising my sites. That being said, crimsonsparkle.net will be moved over to my Dreamhost account as soon as I can get a few minutes time to switch everything over. My photo blog is on there, as well as my experimental sites and my husband’s page. Why not put the personal site on there as well? There’s no blog on crimsonsparkle.net anymore, and the archives that were there are now here, but it’s still a good place for my family to go to see photos and read about upcoming things in my life. This is the site they don’t know about. *grins*
Just incase this ever happens again, I have a couple of off server blogs, Recovering Beauty and Comatised, a tumblr, and several scene journals, gamine, stxr and Christina. What can I say? I love to write, I love to get feed back on my writing, and I always want that option there to write online if I need it. But I have been online for way over a decade, so I’ve gotten around some.
I am back on my Cymbalta. I don’t remember why I stopped taking it, but I did. I don’t know if I’m happy with being on it or not. I am also on another diabetic drug that I don’t know if I want to take. Low blood sugars scare me so much and I don’t know how many of them I can take. I was already put under ‘watch’ today, having to have a ‘baby sitter’ to go out and buy Valentine’s Day gifts and a little somethings for me. I picked up some illuminating foundation for my face that leaves a small shine of glitter after I put it on. It goes with the power foundation I bought last year. I now have the whole set! WooHoo! I picked up some Venom DooWop lip stain, and a tiny little tin of peppermint mints for Chloe. She wanted her own make up and lip stains, since I was getting some. I had to explain to her that like with her pierced ears, she has to wait to get to use make up. But then I ended up giving her a small make over in the hallway outside the candy store. Our skin tones are practically identical, and she acted as though she was a princes after the make over. I wish I would have thought to take pictures.
The last stop of the day was Walmart, so I could get more DVDs to record more movies for my mother. I picked up some candy for the family. Those large Carousel Lollipops. I gave the boys and Chloe each a Wild Cherry pop. I think the DVDs are going okay. I’m sleepy from my meds, so I haven’t checked on them. I should be napping. I have a lot to get done tomorrow.
I want to thank everyone for the encouragement by comments. I can’t even being to start returning all those comments, but I will if you’re still around on Monday. Everyone who has stopped by here in the past couple of days is welcome back here at any time.
There’s some slowness to my page for two reasons. One, I was linked by a high traffic site where everyone is looking around and leaving comments. Two, I was linked by a high traffic site where people may or may not be looking around and/or leaving comments. TWOpointFIVE is I’m on the same cloud has Wil Wheaton and, well, it’s not big enough for the both of us.
I spent a good part of the day crying from the pain in my back and from the fact that I have no medication for it. My pain doctor gave me a medicine that I have a bad reaction to, but I took it anyway because I wanted rid of the pain. The pain stops me from bending, reaching, getting in and out of bed, getting dressed, eating, feeding my little ones, writing, doing pretty much anything that doesn’t involve laying in bed watching TV or listening to my iPhone. Dennis has been a pretty good trooper through out all of this, even though I know that it pisses him off when I cry. No, I don’t know why that is. I feel that after the past few days, I deserve to cry a little.
So, leave me oodles and oodles of comments! I love em’! I’ll be checking back after I finish helping grade the finals. They started today and will go through 11pm on Tuesday, and then it’s Christmas break for me! Woo Hoo! *does Homer Simpson dance!*