I'm so not dead

I don't really have a legitimate excuse for disappearing but I'm about to attempt a brilliant explanation, if I do say so myself.

1) I had knee surgery.

2) I had to pack to move into the new house.

3) I moved into the new house, which didn't have my cable hooked up immediately because Comcast had to schedule a hookup appointment, and my schedule's rather full of Physical Therapy appointments.

4) I haven't gotten my furniture delivered from "home" yet, so it's not exactly the bestest thing ever to be browsin the net from my floor. Cuz that's what I'm doing right now. Just for you.

5) I got a slight promotion at work, and haven't really got an office at the moment, which makes it difficult to blog at work.

6) I had a birthday which sucked mightily and I had to drown my sorrows. Still workin on that.

7) I have many many doctors appointments, filled with lots of bloodwork, non-answers, pain, painkillers that don't work and just make me sick, more appointments, less answers, 2 more surgeries in the near future, and a general sense of helplessness and depression.

So, that's pretty much it. I'm not going to pretend to drop some heartfelt apology on you, and you don't have to pretend to care.

I bought my first ever oil painting this weekend between going to the gym and the pool with CrossBow (we were going to eat some greasy fast food when I spotted it.) I'm in love with it, and it now hangs in my bedroom. With my floor-bed and my tiny tv.

My furniutre and such might get delivered this week.

I miss MarkyMark so much. I think the depression isn't helping much. Neither is not being able to sleep. I'm a wee bit stessed out:
I've got approximately 11 months left with this job, which means less than 11 months to figure out what the hell's going on with me medically before I'm without medical coverage.
I don't know where my life's going.
I'm getting old.
I have no concrete plans for my future.
In 11 months, may I come crash with one of you if me and Marky don't work out? I have no problem with sleeping on floors, and I have my own sleeping bag. Just don't hide my cane while I'm sleeping alright?
I believe I might have Fibromyalgia
I've got to try to get to sleep now or I'll be a trainwreck in the morning.

Sorry I haven't posted in so long. I have a million thoughts rambling through my head and none of them are worth sharing. Just saying I'm here, I'm alive, and I miss you all.

It's almost the weekend. Almost.

I've got a 4 day weekend coming up, and I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it. Well, I'll do the best I can from my crutches. I think it's time to go out and get trashed again, but we'll see. I didn't go out at all with StapleGun while she was here. That makes me a bit sad, she's always a blast. The timing was just never right though. Crossbow just went home to TheBay and went out with her old homies, so not sure if she'll be down. I should probably start packing my shit up, but I know I won't. I'm a bit of a procrastinator. Just a wee bit.

Look at the beauty of Mi Casa! It's the downstairs part with the open door. A big beautiful beauty. June first that new house is mine kids! I don't have words to convey just how happy this makes me. And I know the place isn't new; it's actually rather old, but that's part of its charm. This will be the first place that's mine and only mine. I have no idea what I'm going to do with 3 freakin bedrooms, Lord knows I don't have enough furniture to fill it... Me and Hefe have joked about him moving in with me, but I doubt that'll happen. He's got his own place, and I know he needs his space sometimes. Hell, so do I. Plus, he's still my boss. Such things are frowned upon at my work. Actually, they're not so much frowned upon as downright forbidden. And since I kick it with everyone I work with, I doubt such thing would stay a secret. If only MarkyMark could relocate. That would make everything perfect. Plus, I'd then have custody of PieCat, since she resides with MarkyMark. God I miss that cat. She's my sweet little girl. That's PieCat with a ginormous Teddy Bear I may or may not have bought for MarkyMark one Valentine's before I was informed that MarkyMark strongly dislikes stuffed animals. But MarkyMark still has it, 2 years later... That's love. Or something.

Garbage is releasing a Best Of cd mid June, and I'm so getting it. It's going to have one (or was it two?) new song(s), a DVD of a bunch of the songs live, and, of course, the best shite they've ever released (according to some network exec who's probably never listened to them in his life...)

And my girls The Donnas are releasing a new CD sometime this summer. This is a good year musically kiddies. For me anyway.

I've got to go. My knee's tweakin like a mother-fucker, and I need to go ice it (Ice ice baby). If only my painkillers didn't make me so damn loopy, then I might still be taking them.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Good morning boys and girls. Today we're going to talk about me. Like that's something out of the ordinary...

I just got a fantabulousa phone call kiddies. The 3 bedroom place a block from Starbucks that I looked at a couple weeks ago is mine! BwaHaHaHa. I'm so stoked. This is the first place I actually filled out the app for, and I get it! I just have to go meet with the LandladyChica and sign some paperwork. Never mind that they think Hefe is my boyfriend (well, he looked at the place with me, and we've both been calling them to find out what's up, so I suppose I can understand.)

Today's my first day drug-free. I know the day's not nearly over yet, but the morning is when I usually reach for the pill bottle, and I haven't yet. Yea me!

At my Post-Op Monday I discovered that they did indeed snip off a little chunk of my meniscus, and did a "lateral release" on my tendon (this little release will let my kneecap go back where it's supposed to).

Hefe just called and said he's down to go with me to sign my paperwork whenever the chica said. (Not that he's signing with me. Just, I still can't drive yet, so I'm still bumming rides.)

Dudes, Ms Dewey is the best site ever. It's an interactive search engine and I love it! I just like killing time clicking "Best of Dewey." Go check it out.

My knee is really nasty looking, the skin is hella irritated. But I'm going to be nice and not post a picture of that because, well, some people blog during lunch, and that picture and lunch would not work out very well.

StapleGun is gone again, and she will be missed. Her SignificantOther flew into town yesterday, and they took off for a quick visit to San Fran, and then a major roadtrip to Texas. Hawaiian doesn't think StapleGun and S/O will last and we even placed a wager on it. Maybe Hawaiian's just a romantic pessimist... Or maybe I'm overyly optimistic in a totally delusional way. Who knows. I think StapleGun and the S/O are good together, but hey, whatever.

It's shower time kids, we'll see how that works out. If I fall down and bust a hip, don't be all "I told you so." It's more polite to just point and laugh.

Hey kids

I had my surgery this afternoon. My leg is wrapped from just above my knee all the way down to my foot and has been propped up since I got home at 4 pm. It hurts a bit, but I've been in more pain. I'm taking my pills religiously, and icing every hour or two. I'm awesome on crutches, and I'm allowed to put some weight on it.

Thanksgiving girl picked me up at 1030, stayed with me thru my nurse jabbing the fuck out of my hand to put my IV in, then when he switched to the other and finally managed to get it in. She left me at 1230. and I really appreciate her being there for me. She kept me entertained and laughing. She laughed her ass off when my nurse told me to stip and put on the sexy gown and I asked "EVERYthing?" and my nurse said I could "keep my panties on" (because TGG knows I hate that word).

Crossbow picked me up after I woke up at 230, and got me food and took me home. I'm feeling hella nauseous this second and need to go lay down before I hurl.

Thanks for all the well wishes.

Robert, It's fine with me if you're gay dear

I love Raymond.

I saw my new doctor yesterday. She said I definitely have patellofemoral syndrome, but since I've now got pain in all my other joints, that's probably not all that I've got going on. Which is perhaps why my knees refuse to fix themselves no matter what I try.

So NewDoc tells me to get a bunch of blood work immediately, and she wants to go into my right knee, because she believes I've got a tear in my miniscus, which is what's been causing my right knee to give. Peachy. Blood, needles, and surgery. 3 things I'm not a fan of. Then outside the little smelly room I was in, she asks her nurse/receptionist to schedule me a surgery date and the woman asks if I'm doing anything May 8th. As in just over 2 weeks. I say, nope, I'm free, and she writes me down. I start going into shock. Shock that compounds when NewDoc hands me the paperwork with all the blood tests she wants done. There are 7 of them listed on there people. I'm standing there imagining the gallons of blood they're going to need to perform such tests.

So I go back to my primary care people and they order the tests so I go to the lab and check in. I warn the dude I'm not such a big fan of needles, or of my blood being outside of me. He was a good lab tech tho. He got me all distracted and took 6 bottles of blood before I knew it.

I've been told Pie-Cat's new name for today is LoopyLufwafa. She gets a new nickname every day. I've heard that Lufwafa's are very lovable.

Back to the knees, the receptionist chick called me today and said all my appointments are scheduled and call her for the info. Dude... I'm having surgery...

MarkyMark sent me a package and I got it today! I love getting packages. It was just lots of little silliness.

Crossbow said she'll make sure someone takes me to and from my surgery, and they'll all take turns driving me, and getting me whatever I need. And by all that means Bow, ThanksgivingGirl, Hefe and that's probably it. Hefe told me yesterday that he's going to tell the big boss that he needs to be on call for me 24 hours a day to make soup runs or whatever. Silly Hefe's just trying to scam out of work. Not that I blame him... It's a good idea. And Crossbow and ThanksgivingGirl just want me to hurry up and get a handicapped parking pass. I love those crazy cats. Love love love.

I took my sleepy pills a while ago, and it's getting tired to type straight, so I've got to go. Please forgive spelling mistakes, I don't care right now.

Don't be a Fwaf!

Where are all my fellow Insomniacs?

InnerVoices-if it wasn't for Crossbow saving my drunken ass, I would have been that fool waking up with marker on my face in a strange place... Some asshole drew a Captain Morgan mustache on my face in metal marking pen one night, and Bow scrubbed it off my face while I sat in the bathroom giggling.

Holly-We ordered the strip club food, but with Crossbow's being sick and all, I never actually tried it. Her sister and cousin said they had the best damn sandwich of their lives there, and the fries were fucking incredible too. But... They'd been smoking pot all night, and anything probably would have tasted great to them. I have no idea why that strip club served food when they didn't serve alcohol though, that makes no fucking sense to me.

I'm not going out tonight. I'm probably not going out any time soon. I have an appointment with an Orthopedic Something on the 20th, and it would be foolish of me to go out any time before that. Plus, with the painkillers I'm now on, I'm not thinkin I can do much of anything anyway.

But, the offer still stands for anyone who brings their ass to Sac-Town, I'll go out with you. Anywhere (mostly anywhere), I'm down. Alcohol is the thing that works best for my knees anyway.

I took my lovely Vicodin at 4PM. I finally fell asleep about 6. I woke up at 9:40, thinking it was Saturday morning, and then hella pissed that it wasn't. I can't fucking sleep. And why am I so hungry? I loaned out my (new) truck to one of my boys so he could go pick up a bed from R.C. Wiley, I have no idea if it's back. Told him to lock the keys in the truck when he's done with it, I'll use my spare when I need to drive somewhere; so he doesn't have to bother with trying to wake my ass up to give me my key. Not that it seems to matter, since I can't fucking sleep.

I don't think I like Vicodin very much. Yesterday I took one 750mg pill like my doc told me, and I could still feel my bullshit hurting. Tonight I decided to take two. I can't feel my knees, but my stomach is a little off. I go from being completely ravenous one minute, to oh-my-God-I-don't-even-want-to-smell-food. And my equilibrium is soooo fucked up. I almost fell over opening the bathroom door.

I'm supposed to go to the Old Spaghetti Factory with ThanksgivingGirl tomorrow for lunch, but I'm not sure I'll make it. She told me she understands if I don't, just give her a call, but I really want to go.

My mother called me earlier in the week, and we were talking about my possible surgery. She asked me if I have surgery, do I want her to come down here to take care of me? And I said "No! No, no, no, no, no. I love you mother, but please don't. I can totally take care of myself, and if I couldn't, I'd figure it out." I do not want that woman here.

I told Crossbow that no matter what, she can't let my mother come here. Crossbow said it's no problem, I'd live with her ass if I got surgery, because it'd be easier than trying to take care of me here. I'm not too sure about that though. I'm terrified of being a burden on anyone, I think I'd rather take care of myself. But I also realize that if I have dual knee surgery, that's pretty much out of the question.

I think I'd feel safest with Crossbow out of anyone; she knows all my secrets. I love her to death. She's had my back more times than I can count. Did you ever have someone you just clicked with so completely, it's like you known them forever? Maybe we have... The universe is infinite. Time is infinite. There are millions of possibilities...

God, there I go off on a tangent. Aright, I'm going to try sleep again. Love you all, have a fun, safe weekend.

More ranting about the knees

Do yourself a favor and don't even read this. It's just going to be me whining about my knees again.


My knees were doing ok this morning. Hella stiff, and still hurting, but not as much as they had been. Then I decided it was probably time to do the exercises the quack told me to do. I'm supposed to sit in a chair, and lift each leg for 30 seconds, 10 reps, 3 times a day. I got to 5 reps on my right leg, and it hurt hella bad. I'm feeling nothing from the muscle above the knee that this is supposed to work (my quads), but my knee cap feels like it's being pushed up (or if we're going by the picture, to the left). That doesn't seem to me like it's what we're going for here.

I still have an appointment for Wednesday to get a referral to a specialist. My GP told me last Thursday that my knee caps are both out of alignment/unstable, and that if we just strengthen my quads, that should tighten up the tendons, and get me all squared away. Thus the exercises. The eventual goal is to get me back onto a bike and that I'll hopefully develop the nasty biker's knee. You know what I'm talking about... When their quads are so developed, it looks like they have a whole nother knee on top of their knee... Yeah, that.

But what I don't understand is: if that's what's going to make me better, why the hell did this happen in the first place? When my knees started acting up, I'd been hitting the pool and the gym/biking at least 5 days a week for 3 months. I could bike all day with no problem (I'm serious. Friday night you could usually find me at the gym, biking for an hour and a half, just cuz). I'd just started trying to throw in some running and my knees started bugging me. I immediately dropped the running. But when I tried throwing it back in again, same problem. Soon even going for walks aggravated my knees. The first doc I went to told me to wait a month and it'd disappear on its own. Well guy, this shit has fucked me over pretty royally since August, how bout another diagnosis? All these fools (3 different doctors) have told me to wait a month, don't do anything but rest the knees, and they should get better...

Mother-fuckers, listen to me: I can barely walk anymore. I now just sit at work with a fucking heating pad on my elevated knees, only moving to use the bathroom. And the only reason I go to work is because I can't handle staying at home.

God, I need help. I need someone to fix my bullshit.

Oh My God

I'm going fucking insane.

If I had knees I'd run screaming down the hallway, just to break the monotony.

I can't take this bullshit much longer. This is why I went to work on Friday, even though my boss and his boss both told me to go home. I can't take the cooped-up-ed-ness. The lack of human interaction.

God, I hope I don't get the surgery, I'd never survive the recovery at home.

I'm pretty much awesome. Bow down.

I've been such a fucking tool to MySpace lately. My buddy Crossbow just got on there, and I'm talkin trash at her all fucking night. Her addiction only serves to fuel mine back up again.

And now ThanksgivingGirl has joined up. And the girl from the couple from Friday night is on there and talkin trash with me and Crossbow every night. It's just not conductive to breaking the habit. And it's fun.

My CSI is on tonight. I think you should watch it.

My knees were so bad today that I was crying on the way to work, and my boss ordered me to go home. I managed to squeak in to see my doc, and he basically said what the others have said, BUT he actually explained himself. And asked repeatedly if I was a gymnast, because my knees are hella flexible apparently. Which I knew. Warning, here comes TMI: Beware if you're squeamish: Because whose fucking knee cap should be able to float all around wherever you want to put it? That's right, only circus freaks like me. Don't hate.
Ok, you can look again:

So what's up? How's life? I've been hella bored all day. When Hefe got off work I made him take me to Starbucks so I could get my addiction on. My knees are not the Lord. The only time they're not killing me is when I've got my heating pad on them. And as soon as it's off they're daggers of non-fun again. And because no one wants to burn to death in their bed, my heating pad (which is surprisingly not as easy to find as you'd think) has an auto shut off after a certain amount of time, I wake up roughly every hour in pain, to turn it back on again.

Welcome to my personal little hell. I've been here since Monday night. It's only getting worse. The doc put me on anti-inflamitories, and said my cartilage is probably a hot mess of ass, I've got to wait for that to get better before I can do anything else. He said I'll have to grit my teeth and get thru it for at least a week, maybe two. Good God, that'll be fun. Not. Fuck. I'm taking my baby blue heating pad to work. I'm serious.

Ok, I'm going to bed. Keep on keepin on.

And you all have my permission to be jealous of or hate me for (as you wish) my shenanigans last weekend.

The week's lookin up.

Not too bad for a monday:

Today was my last day of a shittay detail I've been stuck with for a week (including my weekend... My Superbowl weekend)

I washed my beautiful TJ.

I'm about to have clean sheets! There's nothing better in the world than clean sheets.

I'm watching "Still Standing." This is my new favorite show.

My buddy in Akransas just called me! She's back stateside and gettin divorced, and wants to par-tay! I hope she comes out to Cali, I miss that girl.

I'm going swimming at 4:30 in the morning with my usual swimming buddy SwimBoy. Yeah, that's gonna suck a little bit.

I got the results of my MRI back and spoke with my doctor. I've decided he's as much of a fucking idiot as all the rest of my doctors have been. Seriously. After all these tests, this guy tells me that if I rest my knees for a month, they'll be alright. Um... guy, I've been doing that shit since October. I'm still not seeing results. And then when I ask you what I can take for the fucking pain, and you tell me rest and heat packs... You're officially blacklisted bitch!

I have an interview on Wednesday!!! But I'm not gonna jinx it and tell you where. Just wish me luck, k?


Ok, I'm gonna go grab my pretty-smelling sheets and think about going to bed. Just think about.
My question for all of you is: What is the weirdest (maybe not wierd, just most unusual?) place you've ever got your freak on?
Your answer gets mine.

Friday, oh sweet Friday.

I made it kids.
I actually made it.
This week has sucked like no week I have experienced. Good Lord, what a suckfest.
I've been stressed out of my mind, in extreme physical and mental exhaustion, and I've only got to make it thru today.
My goals for today:

Avoid all the stupid mother fuckers. I just can't deal with them.

Avoid stairs. Same reason.

Get my ass to work in the next 20 minutes. Yeah, we'll see about that one.

Screen all my family's calls. I can't deal with them either. Note to my mother: No, it's actually Not necessary for you to talk to me every day. Yeah, no, seriously.

No crying.

Just make it through. Just fucking make it through the day. You can do this.


Alright kids, time to put on my big girl pants. Wish me luck. Or lots of drugs/alcohol to dull the brain.
Thanks.