smash it up smash it up I'm gonna kick it down
be cool tonight, don't wanna start a fight
New Additions  
distractionary: angry hissing sealpoint cat with blue eyes. (DO NOT WANT.)
today was supposed to be simple: school, then car insurance, then maybe DMV trip. all of this overwrote our invitation to see Hope, AJ and John and the girls, of course, along with writing off the barbecue, which I hope was delicious.

What was not delicious was the surpriez groupwork!!1 thrown at me in my last half-hour of class; I loathe group work. I never find it to be a good learning experience. I can use it as a teaching experience, maybe, but that only works if I want to teach at the time. I didn't. And this half-hour, which wasn't even all spent working (show of hands: who actually expected everyone to work straight through to the end of class? yeah, didn't think there were many), had me so supremely unbalanced and off-kilter that I did, in the end, call the teacher and tell her that I cannot be surprised by group work like that. I was very nearly crying at the time I was talking to her, actually, /TP*EURL /KREBLGT.

Fortunately, this school believes in being supportive the way very few other things do (corset companies and some bridge architects, maybe), and so she hastened to reassure me she would offer as much lead-in as she could, and I was always welcome to excuse myself from working in a group and find some other way of reviewing whatever it was we were supposed to review.

Unfortunately, while that helps in future, it didn't do anything to calm me the fuck down. And so I've been on or over the edge all afternoon, making poor Rue's life miserable (and probably her mother's, too). Meanwhile, Rue helped me get a good quote on car insurance this morning, and I can't actually apply for it yet because I don't know an answer about my parents' car insurance and I don't have the VIN for the truck. :|

I called my mother, and left a message, at something like... oh, just under seven hours ago, I'd guess.

More recently I called my father, to get his voice mail right away, and my mother, twice, to get her voicemail after delay and then again right away, and I also called twice to talk to Ben (the guy selling the truck) to find out when we were going to do the paperwork, since apparently it's not legal to sell the license plates along with the vehicle, and there's some pesky law about how your vehicle is supposed to have plates when you drive it around ...

Current projected monthly costs, for my records and if anyone's curious: $45.85/mo or $243 for six months for car insurance with Progressive; the DMV is going to have my ass a few times over, too, with a $20 use fee and a really unclear other charge for plates/registration ... I'm not sure how much because I have no idea what they class the truck's weight as. :|

I also don't know if I want to get commercial plates or passenger; the DMV does a better job of explaining the difference, which is mostly "in the long run, commercial plates are cheaper; in the short run, passenger plates let you stay on the parkways when you're downstate."

I'm just not sure which of those poses a bigger problem.

Other than that, and the fact that Dad and Mom and Ben have all still not called me back and I've been writing this off-and-on for about 45 minutes ... urrgh. I don't even know what to think.

I have no idea if I'm going to have this thing this weekend, although I need it. And I have ... well, far more of an idea, really, but in a negative light, about taking a Saturday trip to Ithaca. It would be fun; it would also be expensive, and I don't have food stamps outstanding in order to pay for my food without cash; I have never driven to Ithaca before in my life, although I think I may have been there once or twice; I should probably get used to the style of once-a-week-or-two stock-up grocery store trips anyway, before attempting to transfer food 300+ miles...

The Nissan is probably going to have fuel economy that is at least as good as the old New Yorker. That doesn't mean it's near as good as the Corolla, and all three of them are blown out of the water by a Prius... so I understand why they like going, and certainly the food that results is far and away the best quality I've met up here outside of, idk, Chez Sophie or whatever – as it goes, though, this Saturday's probably out for us after all.

And at ANY MOMENT, Rue could shake me awake on a Sunday and tell me that she's being judged and pinned to the examining board RIGHT NOW, and then I will flail a lot, try not to freak her out, and hope that she is her normal outstanding self, one of the best trauma assessors in the state (five stars! from the guy who designed the system!), and anyway just like every other time I've told her she'll do great, she'll prove me wrong by being OUTFUCKINGSTANDING instead.

So there.


Apologies for the disjointed nature of this post. I now return you to your regularly scheduled reading list.
distractionary: angry hissing sealpoint cat with blue eyes. (DO NOT WANT.)
so, uh, yesterday I got into a car accident!

I am mostly okay, except for the predictable flare and probably some whiplash; the other woman involved decided, after walking around to inspect the damage to her car and being a bitch to me, to complain of neck pain and get back in her car so the police would think she was a better person.

(I'm bitter.)

I went to see my doctor, who very conveniently was able to see me about an hour after I left the scene, and very kindly gave me a prescription for hydrocodone (also known as Vicodin) 5/500, which means five milligrams of the good stuff and 500mg of acetaminophen per pill.

(Now it's Saturday! um.)

I'm not sure what else to say, honestly. The police report is vague and seems unfavorable and also flatly contradicts physics and my memory, so we'll see if the other driver (the Raging Bitch™) decides to cause a fuss of some sort, in which case I will bring so much fuss the CPD won't know what hit them. (I might get my grandmother involved! When she's involved and the shit gets thrown down, her opponent will be on hands and knees cleaning shit out of the carpet and whimpering meekly for WEEKS. ... so to speak.)

I just want to include a note, here, that [personal profile] invisionary and [personal profile] passerine deserve all the good karma reserved for this half of the week in this corner of the universe; not only did they gracefully allow us to show up way too early on Wednesday and kidnap their kitchen, but John also kept Rue around all morning on Thursday so they could do some of our laundry (for free. FREE. No quarters were harmed in the cleaning of this laundry), and then John took Rue to the scene so that she could make sure I was okay (as the EMS folks weren't doing a very good job, really), and later, after the visits to doctor and drugstore, John and AJ even more graciously let us come over and lean on them a lot.

I think I had about the brain capacity of their infant daughter, being highly unable to focus on anything but The Incredibles for more than about two minutes at a time, and yet somehow AJ didn't seem to be annoyed with me! And we said we'd help with dishes after dinner and then flaked upon realizing how late it had gotten, so I feel super guilty, and if not for the fact that it's way too early and if I'm going to do anything other than a short nap and a shower before going to the parade, it's probably ... a long shower, so I can't exactly go head over there now for ninja dishwashing.

It's a nice mental image, though: someone sneaks into your kitchen, in the dead of night, utterly silent ... and in the morning, all your dishes have been perfectly cleaned and put away.
distractionary: thoughtful-looking grey cat with paws unfocused in foreground (been here long enough gotta be there)
I woke up this morning in a flare, or at least in flare-like symptoms.

I have taken 200mg of tramadol in the last twelve hours alone. :|

In happier news, I got a DailyBooth. So far I haven't forgotten to take pictures.

Today we are somehow mysteriously combining a trip to Planned Parenthood so I can stop poisoning myself with estrogen as the lesser of two evils, possibly a massage so that on Friday I will have enough logs to turn in, and dinner with [personal profile] invisionary, [personal profile] passerine and [personal profile] esteleth. I believe Rue is also making cookies, although that might end up changing if her health doesn't get better than mine.

edit: and I forgot that she was taking some part of a shift today, too, so I really have no idea when anything's happening but that might put the massage off until tomorrow.

school complaints )

I really love having a Dreamwidth account, and have a tendency to keep up on my read list a lot more thoroughly than I do my LJ flist. At the same time, I really wish I had more people here, or more people who would update more frequently. I always end up very sad when the only thing on my read list in the morning is people's automatic Twitter posts from the night before – not because I hate Twitter, although I drastically cut my follow list on Twitter last night as I was spending way too much time looking at it and I don't have a cell phone now anyway, but just because... there's a level of carelessness to a Twitter aggregate that isn't usually there, in an actual crafted post.

Write moar!

(I feel as though I should have brought crochet or knitting to class today. I would feel productive, which is important because I really, really can't comprehend anything that's being said out loud today.)
distractionary: unhappy grey cat in woman's arms. (today is not my night.)
It is really just amazing how noisy a class of about forty people can be when they try. :|

Brachialis has been the most popular muscle so far today; I don't know when everyone else is supposed to present them, since only ... not even a quarter of the class has gone so far. Maybe on Monday, I don't know.

The midterm is next Tuesday, and is worth 30% of the grade in the class. There are 60 multi-choice questions which I will probably not fail, 10-12 fill-ins which I probably will due to stress and fog, 10-15 diagram items which will probably count as fill-in and also fail, and four application questions worth four times as many points each.

We are not done for the day, once done with the test; there's only being done until 11:20, and then spending ... most of an hour, apparently, going over the test afterwards, and a meditation to calm down everyone who has given themselves conniptions over the test.

Today I realized, in trying to draw pterygoids and temporalis muscles on the diagram provided, that the diagram was a piece of shit. The skull was entirely cartoonish instead of being anatomically relevant, and I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure that I won't ever be able to learn the placement of a muscle in reality if I have only memorized its place on Elmer Fudd. (For example.)

Apparently this means I need to spend a fair amount of time with a copier and papercrafting supplies, in order to fix this.
21st-Apr-2009 08:56 pm - important: an open letter
distractionary: angry hissing sealpoint cat with blue eyes. (pic#36369)
Dear Neighbor,

I don't know who you are. There are, after all, twelve apartments in this building, and you could live in any of eleven of them, as I know you aren't [personal profile] delight, and therefore you don't live in Apartment 8. For that matter, in theory you could live in one of the three other buildings in this complex – you might not even live here at all, and only know someone who does. You could, in fact, be almost anyone.

I would like to talk to you about a small matter of common courtesy.

You see, I know there's a laundry room downstairs. It's not the highest quality; the machines are a little bit overpriced, only one of the two dryers works worth a damn, and one of the washers regularly floods the entire floor. Still, it's a lot more convenient to do laundry downstairs (or, in the case of apartments 1-4, down the hall) than it is to pack everything into baskets or bags and haul them off to a laundromat, especially as there isn't one of those in the neighborhood.

And like I said – the machines are overpriced. I can understand the desire to get them to wash and dry the maximum load possible, so that you can save your quarters. I just want you to consider, a little, that if you over load the machines, they won't work as efficiently. You'll flood the floor more, and you'll end up running both dryers twice because your clothes will still be soaking wet.

And as for the reason I'm actually writing this, some eighteen hours after I started to write it –

When you overload a washing machine, you don't just flood the floor. You also prevent the machine from washing your clothes, ie, the reason you fed it the quarters in the first place. And when, then, you dry your overloaded load, not only are you overpaying the dryer, but you are also – and this is the important part – making the entire apartment building smell like your smelly, improperly-washed clothing.

The humidity dumped by the dryers and the flooding of the floor (which, last week, you might recall, also had a bonus sewage smell) is bad enough. Please let me walk through the hallways of my own building, up to my apartment door, without choking on the smell of your stinky clothes.

Cordially yours,
Apartment 8
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