Forming Voltron of Neuroses (Part II)

I just got the results back from my blood work. It was normal. This is good and bad. Good in the sense that it means I don’t have a virus or thyroid problem (I was hoping for some cutting edge/trendy disease, but I didn’t even get that). Bad in the sense that it means I’m one step closer to the MRI/Neurologist/Scary-you-have-a-brain-tumor appointment. March 10th I go to the ophthalmologist for the eye exam. I’m hoping they will find something then because otherwise I’m out of my alternative options. Or maybe it’s still just a fluke, a passing oddity, old age weirdness, start of menopause weirdness, hyperawareness of this weird oddity awareness. Who knows? I will say today was one of the worst days so far. I taught in this room (321 CCC) with these flattish stairs and I had one fucking hell of a time trying to negotiate them. I had to lean on every desk to figure out where the hell the step was. I even had a kid in the class (he was in my class a couple of years ago), ask if he could help me pass out materials because he said I looked like I was limping. I’d give anything for a limp right now! Or a pimp. Man alive. Total and complete frustration. That little German has been super kind and sweet throughout this ordeal. Last night when we were making the bed, which he is HORRIBLE at, I tried to tell him for the umpteenth time to get it right so his next girlfriend won’t be embarrassed by his lack of bed making skills. I thought it was sort of a light joke, but he didn’t think it was funny and got sort of glassy eyed and just sat there. Then I had a sad face and sat there next to him. Man, this entry is morbid and maudlin. Yuck.

Forming Voltron of Neuroses

I’m pretty sure I have MS, Lemierre’s Syndrome or the Ebola virus. I have been experiencing very strange equilibrium/balance issues, tingling and numbness in my arms and legs, memory problems and bladder issues. All of these combined equal one of those above. I flipped out yesterday, but today I’m more calm. It’s a serious professional hazard having access to the Merck Manual, PDR, Mayo Clinic Manual, MedLine and Cinahl. I’ve self-diagnosed all three of these life threatening ones. Luckily, I’ll be visiting my pink-suede-clad Frau Doktor on Tuesday.

I told my parents last night at dinner that I have MS. They are now sufficiently worried, too, but my mother also gave me the riot act for the self diagnosis and wrote it off as a passing oddity. My father also told me not to worry, but reminded me that he’s also a pessimist, so he understood my fear and conviction. We’re more in sync on that end.

I wonder if my friends will still accept me if I have MS or some other deadly or debilitating disease. My guess is some will write me off once I can’t keep pace, or they will accept me as one of their token “special” friends, like having a tranny or paraplegic as part of the “circle.” Time will only tell.

Speaking of deadly and/or debilitating diseases, there was a table up yesterday at our student union with a poster hanging that said, “College Students Against Cancer.” It was a fundraiser. I’m always perplexed by these statements. As if there is a “College Students For Cancer” group or “College Students For Child Abuse.” What is that? It’s just as bad as the political platforms where candidates say they’re “pro education!” What the fuck.

B.O.C.D.D. Called!

Woo Hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My man, CDD (creamy, dreamy and delicious) frickin' wins this cheesehead state. HOT DAMN!!!

Keep it rockin, baby. Keep it rockin.

Plus, I heard he was at our local YMCA working out this morning or yesterday morning. What the fuck, man?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! I TOTALLY would have been there right next to him gittin' some elliptical if you know what I mean....SNAP!

In other news...

Um, here's a reference question I got today:

"Can you please tell me where I can find lots of pictures and images of beautiful things from many different cultures?"

I just sit and stare when I'm asked shit like this. It takes me like 5 minutes to even gather a response.

Fred dropped off a Nestle Crunch bar – bless you

That Cuban dude retired

My mother is a nervous nelly nutcase (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).

Spinnovations

I missed the ugly sweater party, but I have to say, I think my sweater looked pretty kick ass! The German and I overdid on Saturday, and when 7:00 rolled around, we were too pooped. Anyway, I embellished my sweater by sewing on two doll heads that the German got me for Christmas - Diana Ross and Cheryl Tiegs - and I placed them in the mouths of the leopard and tiger appliqués adorning my 1980s ladies sweater. It was a “Victoria Harbour” design. The theme of my sweater was "survival of the fittest.” It also had giant ill-fitting shoulder pads. Don’t worry, I’m still gonna wear it one of these days.

Where am I now? The fucking reference desk. What day is it? Fucking Sunday. Why am I here? Because I have to fucking be here. What should I be doing? Working on my Women's Studies stuff, prepping for classes this week, updating the VRD, ordering books. What am I really doing? Writing this blog entry. Did I walk here like a sane person would in the umpteen inches of snow? No, I fucking drove, like a complete buffoon ‘cause I was feeling lazy. Are there people here tonight? You better fucking believe it. Sappy young students, reeking of booze, togged up in PJs with agitated expressions - all “working” on their assignments and writing on their friends’ walls. But there is one gleaming light to being here right now - that beautiful young male student who has been hanging out in the Library for at least the last four years. I’ve been crushed out on him for a long time. Snap! And of course I didn’t take a shower, I have some stupid fucking hat on because my “winter hair” hat is missing and it is FREAKING ME OUT, I have a giant zit on my lip, I smell like dried cum, and I’m wearing my Wishbone t-shirt with an angry dog on the front. Dang it!

Nikolaj Hubbe danced his farewell performance with the New York City Ballet the other day. That is completely miserable news. He was so beautiful. Jesus. He performed Apollo and some hideous Peter Martins ballet (okay, someone tell me why Martins’ stuff is so shitty? Seriously. I think I liked Calcium Light Night, which was his first shot at choreography back in 1979, and since then it’s been like a series of stupid center ballet class combinations just thrown together with inappropriately chosen music. Balanchine must be rolling around in his grave wishing he hadn’t left him at the helm. Wretched). Anyway, Nikolaj was breathtaking on stage. I’m sad he retired.

So, what are you cheeseheads going to do on Tuesday? You’re going to vote for Obama – ‘cause he’s creamy, dreamy and delicious!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’ve got some Clintonalia Obamaian McSplaining to do!

I’m putting the feelers out to see if I should compose – yet again – a letter to the editor for the local paper (which can be read in less than 20 seconds) supporting BO (BAD INITIALS!). I know many of you think of me as some superficial half-baked mix of fake-squad tactics and celebrity watcher whoredom, but I can actually craft a semi-serious political piece when I’m in the mood (like after booze and heroin).

Here’s the problem: I wrote a rather passionate letter to the editor when the whole domestic partnership fiasco was being voted on and those fuckers never published it, and I was annoyed. So, do I get worked up and spend time writing another letter, albeit a different topic, knowing it may not be published and knowing I’ll end up reading some crap God letter from some dip shit drunk fucker from Bancroft?

Don’t worry, I’m not gonna write a letter focusing on Obama’s cream-in-your-pants factor (well, not entirely), and I’m not going to criticize Clinton’s facial topography (BUT I MAY REMIND PEOPLE THAT SHE VOTED FOR THE WAR) or McCain’s Hanoi Hilton stint, and I’ll even give you BOs “call to hope” as corndog rhetoric, but I’m backing him and that’s my story (and I’ll throw in some real shit, like stats and shit, being the good little librarian I am).

Should I take the dive? Spend my time? Work my dime? Make it rhyme?

Switching gears
I just sent ol’ mumsy an email notification that I would be conducting an eco-audit of her house and lifestyle ways (hold on the phone is ringing………………………….it’s mumsy……………………………………………).

Mumsy’s reply to my email was, “Oh jesus! Good bye.”

Ten minutes later, new email from mumsy:

"I refuse to use washcloths for napkins and bar soap is drying and leaves serious soap scum on everything which means endless scrubbing. I agree about using cloth or other grocery bags - we just always forget them. I refuse to give up the trash bags! Don't even think about it!"

She's gonna be in for a surprise! Crazy woman.

The Buttfucked World of Advertising

Developmentally Challenged Observation
I’m still talking like I’m challenged, and I must say that people at the reference desk were much nicer to me today. Pretty interesting. I may have to whip out that lispy/drooly voice when I want people to treat me with kindness.

My New Administrator Role
Interestingly, in my new WS role, I’ve done lots of signing of various documents. I’m starting to wonder if this is a big part of administration – your signature. Why don’t they include that when they run ads? “Successful candidate must be able to provide signature in support of confidential and complex administrative documents.” That’s really what it should say. They don’t seem to emphasize the signature enough.

My Movie Career
OMG! I totally found out what my role will be in this local movie I’m gonna be in. I can’t really give the plot away, but I’ll give you snippets of the setting, which include a Wal-Mart parking lot, a recreational vehicle (RV), transients (maybe even transsexuals!), cheap booze and thrift shop clothes. I’M SO EXCITED!!!!!!

The Buttfucked World of Advertising
I’m thinking about taking an ad out on those shopping cart baskets. My friend’s husband who works in the insurance industry (isn’t that dreadful enough?) has an ad on what seems to be every shopping cart, and I find it distracting. It’s hard to shop when this guy I know is just staring at me. I wonder how much it costs? For some reason I think it would be super funny for me to take out one of those ads, like with one of my drunken disco pictures, and have the copy read “Don’t drink and read! You could look like this!!” or something of that flavor. I’m gonna look into that. It’s a BITCHIN’ idea!

Speaking of ads, I will list the WORST local TV commercials that make me crazy:

1) Papillion’s Pizza – Nasty looking food, drinks that are blue, families that all looked like they slept with each other, horrible jingle, annoying voices, etc. Yuck!
2) Redfield Law Offices – Jesus. I think I’ve seen this guy on the street a couple of times. Granted I don’t know him, but he looks like a total sleeze. Man alive!
3) Any bank or credit union commercial – Actually, this is an industry I simply don’t understand at all. For such a small town, we have at least 2 or 3 banks or credit unions on every corner. What’s up with that? Isn’t everything in banking automated these days? Do we need 3 banks in one block? Aside from that, these commercials inevitably have some poor sappy spokesperson who talks like they’re in a complete zombie state, but my favorite is when the camera scans into each cube showing all the “happy” employees with their atrocious hairdos, bad glasses, stiff and unnatural posture, Fleet Farm “business casual” wear, and plastered fake cheese smiles just dying to help YOU OUR TREASURED CUSTOMER!!!!!!!!!! Man alive! Someone needs to hire a stylist and a director. I have a feeling they get most of their “air talent” from Rapids. Man alive again!!!

Questions:

1) Who thinks I should go for the shopping cart ad?

2) What local ads make you buggy?

3) Who thinks Sam Lutfi drugged Spears?

Dental Smackdown! (title courtesy of PSM)

So like right at this moment I have a large piece of cotton hanging out of my mouth that is soaked in Milk of Magnesia. I have a washcloth next to the keyboard to catch the milky drool. I’m also wearing a dirty bathrobe with my dangling boobs underneath because I’ve gone “sans bra” tonight, and I have greasy hair and dark bags under my eyes. Pretty? U betcha!

This is like shitcrazy ridiculous! Jesus. It wasn’t even the procedure itself (root canal, pins inserted into brain, building up broken tooth and filling, temp crown), but it’s the wretched aftermath of a cut tongue and breakout of canker sores under my tongue that have made me speechless. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Wow, she can’t talk?!!?!?!?!? TOTALLY AWESOME!!!!!!!!! The German is certainly in a state of ecstasy right now.

According to “Tooth Booth Dental Blog,” there are four types of dental fear:

1) Specific fear
2) Loss of control
3) Catastrophe
4) GAD (General Anxiety Disorder)

What about 5) after the procedure anxiety disorder? Like, I totally don’t want to go back to get the real crown because I may be out for weeks!!!! I already took two days off this week, and I almost never take off work’cause I’m sick. This is the first time in 6 years that I didn’t teach my classes at the Library. Totally SUX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, there is no cure for these frickin’ canker sores and cut tongue. It just “takes time.” Oh yeah, the cut tongue was sort of a combination of the dentist’s slip and me jerking in my chair during some moment of gagging after two plus hours of sitting there. And god knows I’ve certainly had canker sores before, but not like a mustard gas explosion of them.

I’m continuing the various remedies I’ve read about and what the dentist told me to do: Ibuprofen, ice, salt water gargles, peroxide rinses, non-SLS toothpaste, Milk of Magnesia or Maalox, and various assorted Orabase topical ointments.

I stupidly tried to eat a Swedish Fish yesterday. Man, that was a dumbass mistake. I held it in my hand for a few minutes to get it soft (kinda like we used to put Nestle’ Crunch bars on the back of the old tube TV sets so they would melt and we’d lick it right off the foil. Good times!), and then I tried to slowly suck/chomp on the right side, but man alive! Total disaster. The only shit I’ve been able to eat is mac & cheese and ice cream. These foods require no giant jaw chomping, no spice, and swallows pretty easily.

I can still type though. Hence, this long-ass boring email about my teeth. I have been productive at home though: Reading, working on an article, responding to my gazillion 60-70 email messages per day, working on my creative writing piece about Mari, laundry, thinking about more ways I can be eco-friendly in my house (like not washing myself for three days…mmmm mmmmm good!), and ordering a “Barackolicious” t shirt.