the memoirs of a scared shitless girl

Well, I got approved for the apartment, now it's just looking for work. I'm scared but very excited to work hard. I hope it won't be another master control job, but I will definitely take what I can get for sure. I will have to update the name of this blog after I move if I can get internet. This entry blows, I'm sorry.

Two dreams? I must really like you.

Ah, Michael Rosenbaum. You have invaded my slumber on a couple of occasions. I don't understand it, but maybe it's because you are an extraordinary actor. Deep inside, I marvel at how well you perform.
Yes, you're an attractive gentleman but your portrayal of Lex Luther is something to be noted. Maybe one could say that Lex was the role you were born to play. Or at least that's what I think. And that is all I got.

Marriage is for the caveman

What's the point of marriage?


Marriages primary purpose was to bind women to men, and thus guarantee that a mans children were truly his biological heirs. Through marriage, a woman became a mans property. In the betrothal ceremony of ancient Greece, a father would hand over his daughter with these words:I pledge my daughter for the purpose of producing legitimate offspring. Among the ancient Hebrews, men were free to take several wives; married Greeks and Romans were free to satisfy their sexual urges with concubines, prostitutes, and even teenage male lovers, while their wives were required to stay home and tend to the household. If wives failed to produce offspring, their husbands could give them back and marry someone else. Source

So, why does every one want to be married? Especially in this day and age why are women wanting to get hitched? Are they doing it for romantic reasons? Maybe to get a diamond ring? Perhaps for religious obligation I suppose in some cases. (I know people that won't live together without marriage to appease the parents) I guess the majority is either romance or, it's what you're supposed to do. Some relations of mine always ask about marriage; to that I reply, why ruin the goodness? I'm at a good point in my relationship and it seems that making it legal just feels more binding. It indicates obligation: boy and I must appear together at public appearances and I must know where previously mentioned boy is at all times. Porno is outlawed and independence is a daydream and you must take boy's last name. Although, there are some exceptions to the rule as some of my nearest and dearest have not followed the prerequisites but you do see my point. I hope.


It's not that I am jaded from previous experiences, I just prefer not to do it and I feel that it is more of a financial contract than romantic rendevous.

Judge me if you must.

Existentialist wolf fighter

I have established that I am terrified of relocation. There are many changes that need to take place and I am scared to make them.

I need to stop watching so much tv, but to accomplish my goal I need to stop working in it. The daily internet fix has caused a depression in my brain. Once upon a time I didn't surround myself in technology; I read, spent less and took the time to appreciate my relations. Television is the source of my head trauma. When I was broke and worked less I was happy. Material goods are a let down unless they are thought-provoked, not holiday-inspired.
My hope is that I never work in a control room ever again, surrounded by one human's love affair and the absinthe to my soul.

I am a zombie, a creature of habit, a lackadasical robot who aspires to escape the bland core of daily life.

Probably

Your Famous Last Words Will Be:

"So, you're a cannibal."

What Will Your Famous Last Words Be?

Thanks, but I am ok.

Before I could go to the doctor, I needed to cleanse my colon-twice. I bought the twin pack of enemas: one two hours before the appointment, one the hour before. Already the idea of having a doctor's finger and other assorted instruments in my anus wasn't prompting me to put my party hat on, but to insert things myself seemed a little farfetched.

Oh Crap.

I complied with the doctor's orders, only to feel more bloated and gassy than previously. I guess my planning was off; this being my week of feminine bliss sort of complicates matters.

Arriving at the doctor's office with a open mind and a sweaty palm, I sat anxiously awaiting the verdict. 30 minutes later, I finally inquired as to why I was waiting so long. The illustrations on the enema box flash intimadatingly back into my mind. I scoff at them. I take a deep breath, my name is called, it's time. The good doctor lubes up all the required tools and takes jab at my rectum, who has already risen the white flag after enemafest '06. She explained to me that everything had healed on it's own, but to make sure, she inserts a hose light tube that blows air; which incited farty-noises. I partook in some chuckles but smothered them with faux coughs, because I am totally mature.

Finally, the poking and prodding stopped. I regained what was left of my dignity and rejoiced: for my rectum was cancer and polyp free, and Taco Bell owed me a couple of favors.

I got the lumps in me bum, I do!

I went to the doctor the other day and she did one of my personal fave exams: rectal. I knew this was coming and I tried to prepare for the worst. Her wandering finger in my brown eye didn't really set me at ease, but I remembered that early detection is important so I let her at it. She told me she felt a couple of peanut-sized lumps on my rectum and then began to question me about colon cancer. I sat there sort of listening, mostly concentrating on the word "Cancer".
Sometimes after I hear cancer, I like to add, "That's Hilarious!" But Amy Sedaris wasn't going to save my bum from the knife and I figured I should behave like an adult. Although the doctor did mention that the bumps could be from my bladder infection. I hope so. I really can't handle more stress; with moving and whatnot. I need to be healthy and strong. I guess I will be hoping for the best, wish me luck...