Archive for February, 2009

iPod #3

So, my iPod pretty much bit the dust. It wouldn’t start. I reset it eleventy billion times and even managed to get it into “disk mode” to no repair…and it made me so mad I literally threw it across the house.  So if it wasn’t broken before, it really is now.

So what did I do? I made an appointment with the lovely people at the Apple store and then I realize, Hey, they’re probably going to charge me lots of money to tell me it would be cheaper to just buy a new one. And the first thing they ask when I make the appointment: “did you try to reset it?”

Well, jeez. Only about a thousand times. I guess I look stupid? Nonetheless, that same day, my dad gets so sick of hearing my iPod bitchery that he says “Hey, want me to buy you one as an early birthday gift?” And I was all “Hell yes, plz.”

And so it went. To Best Buy. I hate those guys. “Can I help you?” …”No thanks.”  Two seconds later: “Can I help you?” … “No thanks.” Seriously, holy shit those guys worry the crap out of me. And then when I WANT one of them to get their little key and give me the iPod, they’re too busy bothering other non-buyers. Sigh. I’m allowed to be a bitch about it, because my boyfriend used to work there. They don’t get commissions. So there.

But this is what I’ve been staring at/fiddling with/feeling like a n00b with:

~ via google image search.

~ via google image search.

Love. Love. Love. I can’t live without music. And all the extra stuff is just icing on the cupcake. And it’s a really, really fun cupcake, guys. There’s no going back.

Only thing…I am really bummed that I lost a lot of music I got from iTunes on a now dead account that can’t be recovered. Stuff I paid for! That is why I still buy hard copies of CDs, and will continue to do so until I get old and my Powerchair won’t fit through the CD store door.

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February 25, 2009 at 11:08 pm Leave a comment

Oh, and…

I finally found a psychologist that will take me on. I was thinking about this all day, how when I was a teenager my mother forced  me to go to therapy, and I played mind games with them/didn’t tell them the truth, ever.  I didn’t have any problems! (I totally did, but didn’t want to get better. And we all know that it doesn’t work unless you want it to.) I didn’t realize then that not only was that stupid, but a HUGE waste of money.

Seriously, having any kind of mental problem is expensive. That’s one reason I’ve put off going for so long. That’s also why I really tell people in a super-duper-not-covered-in-roses way that, seriously, WLS fucks with your head, even if it was on straight before that. Taking care of your body comes first, but, sadly, the brain is all alone up there trying to make sense of everything. It’s lost in a sea of sudden body changes, dress sizes, hormones a-flyin’, and general fucked-uppery.

This post makes no sense. But my main point: therapy. In a few weeks. I’m not looking forward to spilling my guts, but, I won’t waste my time there like I did when I was younger. I know they’re going to ask me if I’ve been “diagnosed” before…and honestly? I think I was? But they never told me with what exactly. I have a few ideas. I’ve taken too many science classes and looked into the DSM far too many times to not  try and self-diagnose myself. It’s bad, I know.

February 19, 2009 at 8:40 pm 4 comments

I need new hair.

I need absolutely must have a new hair cut/color. Seriously, guys. This is bad. I have what we’ll call a “curse” with my hair. Here’s a quick run-down:

  • I first dyed my hair when I was a teenager: I went to a stylist and we tried, repeatedly, to dye it jet black. Permanent. On blonde hair. It washed out. Permanent black dye washed out. So any color other than blonde is out.
  • I found a great stylist! She gave me an adorable cut. I wanted to go back to her. She moved to Texas.
  • I found another stylist! He moved to Atlanta.
  • I go to several expensive salons, and I spend several minutes explaining, in detail, what I want, and the end result? They do what they want.
  • My last attempt at styling: I bleach out my hair on my own, it comes out all splotchy and insane (I called it Zebra Head)–I later realize it did this because, apparently having a major surgery/body change can make your hair freak out. It did. So I went to a stylist and she fixed it! Hooray! The bad part? That was in California when I was on vacation. Mmhm.

So, here we are. I haven’t had my hair done since December 2007. That is sad. For a while I was all Hey I’m gonna grow it out and it will be awesome. But, uh, it’s so long it’s annoying. And the roots, they are not pretty. Exibit A:

snapshot_20090218_3

See those roots? They’re beyond “roots”. They’re full-blown mud-blonde shrubs at this point. Something needs to happen. I’ve been told to find someone with cute hair and ask them where they got it done. And here’s what happens:

Me: I love your hair! Where’d you get it done?

Them, with their cute hair being all better than me: Oh, I did it myself. (OR: My friend did it.)

Wtf.

Really, though, with my general aura of deflated-balloonery, I should at least have good hair. But finding someone around here who won’t just Do What They Want Anyway or give me a fashion mullet is a difficult task. Gross.

February 19, 2009 at 7:50 pm 2 comments

Can you OD on chocolate? Is there a poison control number for that?

valentine-0092

Valentine’s Day. Oh, Valentine’s Day. With your flowers and chocolate and general mooshy-gooshery. I kind of forgot about it until I stopped by to see my boyfriend at work (Whole Foods) and saw how insanely into it people are this year. Flowers and candy abound. It’s crazy, guys.

I’m spending it alone, pretty much, but my boyfriend did go to the fancy Peterbrooke Chocolatier this morning and got me a box of sugar free chocolates. Not shitty, make-you-crap-your-pants sugar free chocolate. Good chocolate. And I am SO not above this whole expensive sugar free chocolate thing, we know this. Because I’d rather eat the good stuff than get really pukey from the real stuff, and my pouch loathes that cheap shit. Really.

I’m so in love with this particular brand of chocolate, that I ate through a third of the box before taking pictures. But I never get expensive chocolate so, here.

valentine-011

And because I felt particularly festive today and appropriately caffeinated:

valentine-015

Yeah. I like Pink…

I will be glad when this whole lusty/love/blahblah crap floating around in the air goes away, though. People are acting strange. Like yesterday, I was waiting in front of one of those road workers holding a Stop sign…and the guy comes up to my car, I roll down my window, and he proceeds to tell me how “beautiful and young” I look and keeps trying to get my number. Uh, creepy. And tricky. Because I couldn’t run the stop sign he was supposed to be holding. Would one go to jail for spraying mace in the face of a an aggressively creepy road worker? Probably. So I smiled and waited it out. I guess he thought he was going to get a date for Valentine’s day. Sigh.

But, really, I have a feeling that this has been a good day for most people; for some reason it seems that people are appreciating their loved ones a little more this year because of the state of things. Or chocolate has just gotten that much better.

February 14, 2009 at 9:31 pm 4 comments

My head needs a vacation.

Finally, I can breathe. The first week of training is over. Yay! Bad news? I have to start again next week. On different units. So that whole assuming-I’ll-be-working-on-one-floor thing is a big joke. So far I’ve trained in the burn unit, the neuro unit, and today I did the psych ward. It’s a lot of information/procedures to memorize for a part time job. But…for now I’m looking forward to giving my brain a rest, because next week I’m going to totally different places, again!

Oh, and in a month I’m expected to be doing this all alone, holy crap that’s a lot of responsibility. But, yeah, brain–rest.

To be more on topic with this blog, I went to a support group meeting the other day–the one that my surgeon’s office has for pre and post-bariatric patients. I’ve found that as time trudges along, I’m one of the few post-ops that sticks around…most of the other people there has surgery in the past few months or haven’t had it yet. So it made me feel old, yet still the youngest person in the room. Which saddens me. I know there are other 20-somethings that had surgery there. Where did they go??

I’ll admit, I’ve been too busy to go to the last few meetings. But every time I do go I feel more, I guess, disconnected from these people. Early out I would go to the meetings and see these “skinny”, “successful” people there and be wildly jealous, hoping that I would lose as much as they did, etc., and that when I did, I would return and be happy and proud to show off my hard work. But really? It doesn’t matter any more. I’m “thin”. La-de-dah. Don’t get me wrong: the attention is nice. But…it’s strange to have all these pre-ops looking you over like you’re on display. The whole night I felt like I was being analyzed.

But my main point: I went to the meeting, mostly because the guest-speaker was the psychologist that does all of the pre-surgery screenings for my particular doctor. I was hoping he would shed some light on possible post-op head issues. But he didn’t. It was all about “head hunger” and how to deal with it. Well…that’s fine and dandy for people who are pre-op or newly post-op and getting used to the loss of “normal” eating. But what about those of us who are in the “I’m totally lost in my head” point after 1+ years? I was sad that he didn’t even touch on that.

But really, what it boils down to is that I need to see someone, because my head is in this weird place. I’m just kind of bothered that these psychologists only want to deal with people beforethey have surgery and not help them out further down the road. Like WLS fixes you right up and you’re good to roll for the rest of your life. Um, no. So I’m trying to find someone that is familiar enough with WLS to actually “get” my particular brand of crazy, but not someone that thinks all my problems stem from head hunger/mourning the loss of food. Maybe I’m hoping for too much. But therapy is expensive.

February 12, 2009 at 9:08 pm 3 comments

Hospitals are complicated and stuff. They can’t help my iPod.

Okay, so today is the first day since last Sunday that I haven’t had to wake up at 6.a.m. and go to training/testing at my new place of work. This place is crazy. They gave me, literally, hundreds of pages of policies, tests, checklists, online websites to use on a constant basis, papers telling me not to even THINK about talking about fight club, etc. Hello, overwhelming!

Seriously. Batshit crazy is the only way to explain it. This particular hospital houses over 20,000 employees. You’d think they would have their act together. But, no. I was given wrong information/disconnected numbers/wrong times/wrong parking information/general fuckuppery to deal with. It’s been a long week. Learning a job I know nothing about, well, it’s an adventure! to put it one way. I’m enjoying sitting on my ass currently.

I have a donut. And, I’m going to eat it. And I will dump. I know this. But I want a donut.

Oh, and? My iPod has pretty much shit the bed. It won’t turn on beyond the “logo” screen.  And it’s making this sad little moaning noise. Reset does nothing, and this makes me very sad. But until I can get to the apple store to plead with them to fix it…I’m stuck listening to the radio. I kind of forgot how awesome NPR is.

February 7, 2009 at 9:04 pm 2 comments

I hate morning people. Because I want to be one.

Today was day 1 of a 2-day orientation to the hospital where I now work. 9 hours of listening to policies and procedures, filling out papers, and general sitting-s0-long-my-ass-hurts…and they call me today,  before all this, asking if I’m available to train on Wednesday and Thursday at 6:30 am. Seriously.

Okay.

I signed up for “evening shift,” people. No more, no less. There is a reason for this.

I simply, honestly, blatantly am useless before A) noon, and B) pre-latte. I was excited about this schedule. Until this 6:30 a.m. business. I mean, really. I hate to fuss. But wh0 can retain any information learned when it’s still DARK outside, for God’s sake???

I wish there was a way to train myself to love mornings. But I hate them in all their dew-covered, bird-chirping, windy-cold glory.

February 2, 2009 at 10:36 pm 2 comments

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Griffin H. Bat was very, very fat. She had WLS in 2007 and has gone from 314 pounds to 120ish, and often wonders where her mind went along with all that gooey adipose matter. Even with new guts, she still thinks about cupcakes and their confectionary goodness. She feels like a bear that has lost its stuffing, but she won't hesitate to tell you how lovely you are.