Friday, June 29, 2007

I can't wait to see SiCKO.

I saw Michael Moore on the Daily Show yesterday, and caught him at 11 on Tavis Smiley, where he had more time to talk, and they showed a different clip.

I also like the latest commercial, casting him as Shaft - "Shut yo mouth!"

However, it naturally terrifies me due to my health problems. Even if nothing goes wrong, I'm still on plenty of medication and will be for the rest of my life (thyroid, calcium, vitamin D, allergy meds - NEVER stop those because your allergies have improved, what an idiot - and god knows what else.)

On PBS, he said he asked people to send him healthcare horror stories, expecting a few hundred, and getting 20 thousand, which does not surprise me.

I agree with what he has said so far (without seeing the film), we do not need the middle man of the insurance company. Human life should not be treated like a business product.

Working at the crisis center scares me, seeing people derailed financially by health problems, even when the care is free. St Jude's patients, for example. Free care for your kid, but you still miss work, and if your kid's in St Jude's, you're going to eat up your paid off days fast. I'm nowhere near as sick as a St Jude's patient, and my mom has no sick days. My dad can't watch us when we're sick because he'll "get fired" if he misses work. He says he has a lot of sick days, but he's saving them in case something terrible happens to himself, my sister, myself, or even my mom. Me staying in the hospital? "Best [I] ever looked!" Himself injured on the job? Nope.

Anyways, something I've been meaning to write about is prescription drug commercials, and I was finally spurred by the movie and his appearances on the Daily Show and Tavis Smiley.

Prescription drug commercials are fucked up.

Let me repeat that, to anybody with any knowledge of prescribing medication, these commercials are bizarre, useless, bullshit.

The only medication that I am on because of commercials is Singulair. I needed to be on an allergy med, and I'd never been on it, but I knew it's name, so we went with it. It's done all right.

I'm on another drug that is featured in commercials on TV - my birth control, Yaz. However, the commercials did not play a part in the decision at all, this was the one my OB-GYN thought best for me right now.

The other allergy medications I've been on since we stopped with the weekly shots have also been in commercials, but I didn't walk in and say, "I'm itchy. This commercial says this medication will make me stop itching. Prescribe it."

Same with the antidepressants. When I was put on Cymbalta, that was a decision my doctor made. After I got home, I started seeing commercials for it and continue to this day.

Everything else is not common enough to warrant commercials, except for the calcium supplement and the Lyrica, but I've only seen print ads, and they're aimed at a different nerve problem. (Or the same - just nerve damage and pain in a different part of the body.)

But commercials never entered my mind, when I get prescribed a new drug, we look it up online and ask the pharmacy about it. Locally owned independent drugstore - one reason I can't leave, they know my history, my medical allergies, everything. They pissed off my dad by not filling something because of insurance or it was too soon or somebody working at the pick-up section pissed him off, but I still depend on them. My insurance gives me uniform copays, unlike my poor mom.

Back to the ads.

Here are 2 things that bug me the most about the ads:

"Talk to your doctor." - Are you a doctor? No, you saw a commercial and knew you had this problem, this brand new problem that your doctor either didn't know about or didn't want to treat. Which is insane, because even if your doc is new, you can have your records faxed from your old one, you fill out info sheets on current meds, past and current health problems, everything. Your doctor knows you have high cholesterol, if you go in for your checkup and say, "Doc, put me on Expensrol, because the commercial said it was better than what you have me on," I don't think it will go well. No body reacts the same way to medication, and your doc generally has you on what he or she feels is best and what has not caused horrible side effects.

"Tell your doctor if you have XYZ, people with XYZ should not take ABC." - Your doctor should already know everything about your health and medical history. If not, get a new one and tell him or her everything! Sheesh.

They just bug me. I understand commercials for OTC drugs - they're not prescribed, and they're used by a lot of people. Your doc may recommend one, but not actually prescribe it.

I do have an OTC drug because of the commercials - Alavert. It really is good.

I think the ads for prescription medication are part of the reason they cost so damn much.

I don't know much about the business side of health care, and I don't want to.

My biggest worry about getting a job is not the pay, it's the health insurance. I can't expect the same thing I have now (unless I join the military, then my copays are zero), but I hope to get affordable copays and the treatment I need, not the treatment that saves the most money.

That's the problem - they can't turn a profit without denying operations, procedures, and medications. That's not right.

Our current president is a Christian, a very public one. Which makes me question his faith, sure he believes in God, but I thought religion was a private matter?

Would Jesus deny you afforable health care because of a pre-existing condition?

I finally know why I don't like Fred Thompson!

As I said before, I just don't like to listen or look at the man on Law and Order. (Balanced out by Jerry Orbach, of course.)

Today, after catching the end of the first Pirates movie on USA, I just decided to flip through the channels and caught a rerun of the Dukes of Hazzard on CMT. Judging from the opening credits, Daisy Duke was pretty cool - she kicked this guy over and seemed (in the 20 minutes I saw) very independent and kick-ass for a Southern woman on TV.

Back to the point, I've seen the opening credits a couple times, but today, it just hit me.

Fred Thompson looks like Sorrell Booke, who played Boss Hogg.

They even sound similar - southern, "folksy", old white guy accent.

My mom used to watch the Dukes all the time in the early 80s, and since Fred Thompson's joined Law and Order, she's had the same visceral dislike I do.

See for yourself. And consider how Stephen Colbert described him, paraphrasing, the "basset hound/grouper look".

It's the grouper part that gets me.





But I really can't stand seeing or listening to him. Boss Hogg was better, much more of a cartoonish bad guy. Arthur Branch is not stupid or corrupt, but the actor irritates me. Same with Winona Ryder. Nothing I can explain, but it stopped me from watching Girl, Interrupted on DVD last summer when I had a chance, which also bugs me, because I love the book.

Maturity is optional, especially online.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Dixie and her Exhaustion

Why won't you let her sleep?

Friday, June 22, 2007

The heat is so not cool.

I'm on this pain patch so I can get constant pain relief while keeping my mental facilities.

It's great.


Yesterday at 9, my mom put on a new one, with a Tegaderm tape patch that is just bigger than the patch itself. The pharmacist gave us the first one free. That's important.

Anyways, the patch means I can do things I couldn't before - like ride my bike to the library when I want to. And the library is open, they've already not checked in a book I turned in, so I now check them in before checking new ones out, so I know it's checked in.

I didn't go yesterday because my lower abdomen/pelvic area was hurting, almost at 10, a number of times, and the bleeding (breakthrough) had increased.

Today, though, little pain, no bleeding since 5 AM... and I got my meningitis and hepatitis shots today - they're recommended by the University, but not required yet. They probably will be soon. I got mine for free, no appointment needed, because we went on base. So cool.

My mom and sister went to the base yesterday to find about getting a day pass (before September 11th, everyone could use the base as a shortcut), and dealt with a lazy, young asshole. And at the clinic, they dealt with another person who went out of his or her way not to help.

Well, we waited about 20-30 minutes for a pass, and the lady got us a pass good for a year! Mom just needs one of us with her (her name is the only one on it, so she and Beck can do some tax free shopping at the NEX). She was so nice.

And then we didn't have to wait at the clinic, just go down to the immunization room. The guy was young and nice and clearly loved his job.

I got the shots through an air gun type thing. Scary looking as hell, but no more pain than a normal shot, less, because it was so quick. He said it used CO2.

It was like a piercing gun!

Afterwards, we came home and lounged, and after Jeopardy (I won all the money), I decided to ride my bike to the library. I'd gotten a call yesterday saying a book I'd ordered had come in. Both were there when I got there, cool.

I've stopped taking my water bottle, because if I drink at the 2 red lights I must cross (they change before I'm halfway across, grr), the light will change and I will hold people up.

Plus I could get my books or purse wet.

And I don't think it's allowed in the library, not that they've said boo.

So I got home at 5, face as red as a tomato painted red.

Tuesday, I went to the library as well, and when I got home, Becky told me I had to take a shower. I was wearing a bright red shirt that was pale in comparison to my face.

So today, I took a cold shower.

And my patch...

It hadn't fallen off, I still had to pull it off, but it was useless - the tegaderm patch and the medical tape did nothing - water got in, bad scene.

By the way, I passed a time and temperature sign before crossing the street into my neighborhood at 5, and it was 100 degrees and so damn humid.

Anyways... my point is... the patch is supposed to let me do things, but not if it can't survive body movements or sweat!

I can't go outside until the doctor appointment Monday afternoon - no bike rides, no yard work. Oh, the sadness... actually, that's a clear conscience, mom's recovering from surgery, I'd lose my patch, I'll keep you hydrated Becky, I promise.

Actually, she mows the yard really fast since Mom says she doesn't have to bag it. An hour for both, at most, and we're mowing our neighbor's front yard as well. (They connect.)

So this patch is working very well on the pain, but I can't do anything or I'll lose it!

That sucks.

And we don't know where to put the damn thing - we started with the stomach - the site of the pain.

It peeled so much, it wouldn't stick to the curve of my abdomen even with a complete covering of tape, which we're worried is a bad idea, it needs to breathe I think.

The back's been the best, because if it's too low or too far from the center, it can peel up.

My mom thinks we should try the arm and wrap it up in something, but I doubt it would stay on the rounded arm.

We'll find out more Monday.

It's been a month since I should have gotten my last Lupron shot - it was a 3 month amount. And it's a 6 month drug, with 3 months off, I think.

So I'm fatigued, nauseous, and my lower abdomen hurts a lot after using the bathroom, at least since the 13th except today.

Not to mention the bright red breakthrough blood. I'm on birth control, I shouldn't be bleeding.

And when I was on the Lupron, when I stopped the birth control, more breakthrough bleeding!

So it has to be both...

I don't know...

I hate summer.

I have a plan for my dorm room - the one I stayed in at orientation had ugly pink carpeting, but it was pretty low plush and not more than three-quarters dog hair and pee.

A book I had on college from 1994 or 1995 (Some schools have an e-mail system! Ooh! More teachers want typed papers! Ooh!) had an idea for your dorm room - apparently, most have cold tile floors, which is bliss in the summer, at least to me. I mean, I've laid down on the kitchen floor because it was so hot - last summer, during the first Lupron treatment, I slept on carpet and a floor vent at my Aunt's house.

Anyways, the book said get a carpet remnant or throw rug to warm up your cold floor.

So I got to wondering...

Can I get an area of tile to cover my carpet?

It's an idea.

Another thing from the book that I loved - be glad you're homesick! It's a compliment, a sign your home is loving.

My sister and I will be homesick.

My mom and her siblings and my dad and his siblings wanted the f!ck out of there as soon as they could. Mom missed the house, not the home.

However, dad doesn't think it's good, when you're 18, you're out on your ass, health problems or no, or in my sister's case, not having finished high school...


I can't wait for Halloween, it gets kind of tolerable around then.

My point? I left Iceland around Christmas '94, when I was six, and I still miss the snow.

Mom was 32, she has clear memories of it, and she's not a fan of the heat here, but she doesn't want to live in Iceland - the whole darkness all winter long made her so depressed, she never got out of the house - dad had work, I had school...

I still miss the snow.

It's so easy to warm yourself up, but so hard to cool down.

And humidity.

I'm so glad I don't care about my hair beyond washing and brushing, nothing to worry about thanks to the moisture, while Becky frizzes out and freaks out.

Gotta love her.

Yeah, I rambled.

Got a problem with that?

Help me find a book!

More help needed!

I read this great book probably last year before my 18th birthday. I got a Memphis library card for my 17th, the $50 is only good a for a year. But I'll be going to school there in 2 months, so I'll get another one.

Nothing will stop me from reading a book, magazine, comic book, or anything not related to school at least once a day.

I will make time to watch the Daily Show and Colbert Report (and World Series) and I will demand time of myself to read a book to unwind.

My uncle graduated this year, he's going to be a middle school teacher. During the school year, he couldn't read a book for fun, and he has a great collection.

However, he had time to watch a couple of hours of TV a day. And he's not like most people, he likes to read. But he doesn't read in bed, so he doesn't read while in school.

Forget that nonsense. I spent more time fretting about what book to take to school than what I was going to wear. (Jeans, a t-shirt, white socks, and tennies. Ta da!) It had to be long enough to get me through all 6 periods, and something I hadn't read in a few months, so I wouldn't know everything right away. And if it was a library checkout, I had to read enough to know if I'd like it enough to read throughout the day. And I always stuck a few MADs in my backpack just in case.

One day my junior year, the unthinkable happened. I finished the book I had before 5th period was over! (Ella Minnow Pea, a delightful book that I later bought.)

6th period was taught by a slacker, and I had nothing, nothing! to read until I got home.

I think I even had 2 books with me. Ella was the second one, the other one was probably already half-finished or something. Or an equally fast read, or a dull day filled with tests, who knows?

Back to my query - I don't know the title or the author of the book.

I just know it was damn good and I'd love to read it again! (And again, and again, and again.) I will end up buying this book one day, I can guarantee it.

Okay, here's what I remember. It is fiction. It's filed under African-American fiction. It was written by a man. The main character is a black male author, who is upset about the fact that his work is put in the African-American literature section of stores because the blackest thing about the book is his picture on the dust jacket.

He writes boring academic books that are lauded in academic circles but nobody else cares, because it's about stuffy stuff. They're not even about Africans or African-Americans or Africa, they're just about some other scholarly subject.

One day, he decides to write a fictional book under a pseudonym.

He writes it in first person, and the person telling the story tells it using street talk, the most stereotypical English of the uneducated black man. I believe he has a baby with a woman he hates.

Anyways, the book takes off, makes him a ton of money, and he hates it. His publisher (or agent, whoever) was the only other one who saw it as a joke, which it started out as.

The book wins awards, and he wears a disguise - sunglasses and monosyllabic grunting.

He's also on the judging board for an award (the award? I don't remember) that his new book falls under.

Everyone loves it and says it's so real and an accurate portrayal of contemporary black life, etc, etc.

I don't remember the ending, but it wasn't happy or sad, it just was.

It's a great, thoughtful book, and I need to know the title or the author's name.

Thank you.

Stupid Question Alert #2

Why do some people leave their newspapers in their driveways for days?

There are a few people in our neighborhood, one just a few houses down the street in particular, that usually has 4 or 5 orange bags in the driveway.

I don't get it.

Whoever lives there is not out of town, because the cars are coming and going every day. Which also means they're not stuck in the house by disease or injury.

They paid good money for this subscription. Why let it sit outside where it can be stolen?

I can understand if they have a high pressure job and don't have time to read the paper until the weekend, but that still doesn't explain why the paper is left outside. It takes less than a minute to run out, grab it, and toss it in the house or car.

Also, what is up with this constant situation that I see in MAD magazine, one comic in a 30+ year old Archie, and a commercial for a casino about an unlucky guy?

It involves going outside the house early in the morning to get the paper, or in the second case, to talk to someone.

The door always slams shut.

And it is always locked, and they have no hide-a-key, no backdoor or a locked one, and no common sense.

Because, in addition to being locked out until other people wake up or come home or come over with the key you lent them, you are naked, in your underwear, in your pajamas, or just anything embarassing.

I even think it shows up in the new movie Evan Almighty. I so want to see it - I've loved Carrell since he's loved lamp. However, I don't believe in God, though I do believe that Morgan Freeman exists and is a wonderful actor and quite handsome for his age (older than me), and even if I did, the story of Noah's Ark is insane and impossible and should only be taken as a story. God loved the world, so he killed everyone but Noah and his family. That's not love, that's abuse. (Law and Order SVU rules.)

Anyways, the same thing shows up in a commercial - he's naked, getting the paper! And he doesn't live in the boonies, so someone sees him.

My question is just why? And has this ever happened to anybody?

Why would you lock the door if you're going to the end of the driveway or even just a few feet away from the door?

Why lock it and not have a key?

And why go out in your underwear or nothing where people can see you? It's called a robe, or a long t-shirt, sheesh.

I go out and get the paper in my pjs all the time.

I never lock the front door, I'm just going to the driveway!

This weekend, we're taking in our next door neighbor's paper and mail. This morning, I was the only one up, and I had my pjs on - purple pirate pants, Joe's Crab Shack white T-shirt, and blue and gray sports bra that must show through the shirt. And no shoes! No makeup, hair's a mess.

I leave the door unlocked and open (screen door shut, though, it's summer and I'm not an idiot) and walk to my neighbor's driveway to pick up her paper.

What was I thinking?

If we were collecting the paper for someone who lived more than a few houses away, I would lock the front door.

And leave the back unlocked, with a dog outside or in.

Why does this happen?


Does it?

Lots of stupid questions.

Please answer them.

Or I will be confused for life and flunk out of college and amount to nothing. Do you want that on your conscience?

Stupid Question Alert

Is this blog a parody, or is it for real?

I don't have the stomach to go through the whole thing right now, and he has no links to the normal conservative parody sites, so I'm completely lost.

Does anyone know for sure if Filthy Hippies is for real?

If it is a joke, it's not very well executed, at least not to me, but humor is subjective.

If it's real, it's probably somebody frustrated at what he sees as dirty hippies.

I am totally confused.

If he's for real, I can just forget about him. If he's joking, then I have something new to read if I want to, something that could be funny.

I think it's fake - who rants about Commies anymore? He doesn't live in the Boonies, there are much more topical liberal boogeymen.

So... help?

Wickett and his Ennui

Poor little dog.

Today's "They'll Do It Every Time" is a bit... odder than usual.

Talk about bad timing!

The first day of summer was yesterday, and I'm soaked in sweat at 2:30 in the morning. Of course, I'm almost always overheated, but still. It's hot in most of the northern hemisphere, has been for too long, and will be for too long.

But this!

First TDIET to actually make me laugh.

Now, this isn't a foreign concept. I had an idea for a political cartoon in 2004 (I heard rumors other US History classes had to draw one, but we never did.) It would just be an old white guy in a monster SUV saying we need to cut our foreign oil dependency. (Without drilling in Alaska, dammit!)

Of course, Ragweed (warm weather allergen, clever Al) could be logical - he wants to save money on the electric bill for the house, which may or may not have cost more than the car and the monthly payment on the house is definitely less than insurance, a month's worth of gas, and car payments - he wants to cut costs at his house to have money to fill up the car to get the hell away from the house without breaking a sweat or taking public transportation.

That's all good and fine and hypocritical as hell, which is the point.

2 things, though. This was sent in by someone in Philadelphia. As a large city, one would assume the City of Brotherly Love would have decent public transportation or, at the very least, a number of things within walking distance.

The thing that inspired me to say something?

He's keeping the house cold to save money!

Al, I don't care when it was sent in, it's being printed the day after the first day of summer! Now, I've never been to Philly, but I assume you don't need a heater in June.

This could have easily been topical by saying Ragweed keeps the AC set high to save money.

But it wasn't!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Dixie and her Table

Coffee table.

I rescued it when Mom bought a new set at a yard sale, and it's really come in handy at the foot of my bed - holding books, clothes for the next day, extra blankets, whatever.

It's also incredibly strong, and can serve as a bench, obviously.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Mikey and his Shoes

Even though it's June and above 90 most of the time, I decided to keep Becky's ugly Ugg Boots downstairs, in the semi-open, so he has a nice pillow when he's sick of the couch.

Is your city stingy or generous?

I saw this study a couple weeks ago, and it pissed me off right away.

What bugged me was how the study was done.

To come up with these lists, The Chronicle of Philanthropy analyzed 1997 tax returns for households earning more than $50,000 a year that itemized deductions, including charity donations, reports The Associated Press. To determine the amount of discretionary income, the researchers deducted food, taxes, and other basic living costs from total incomes. It from this number that the percentage of charitable donations was calculated.

So only households making more than $50K can make donations now?

And everyone who makes donations records it for their taxes?

I call bullshit.

We donate many things - material and otherwise. We've never recorded it. How do you deduct time spent volunteering?

I guess the study is fair by whatever standards the institue has - households making more than $50K must donate more to them.

Look, many people who volunteer at the Crisis Center are former clients - they'll never make $50K a year.

You can't measure time for your taxes, though you can for scholarships!

I'll be donating time and only time (broke college student) over the next four years, and probably long into the future.

Will I ever make more then $50K? Will I ever deduct the books I donate?

Maybe, and hell no.

So I'm stingy.

Does this bug anyone else?

Monday, June 04, 2007

Wickett and his Corner

This little looney likes corners, he likes small spaces, he likes being hidden. This is in between the couch and the wall. The space appeared when we needed to put a standing lamp there. Since he loves it, I laid down a couple towels.

Now he has some socks as well, socks that were left on the ground or in shoes in the living room that are no longer whole, so he's welcome to them.

One time, he went past the lamp, and was laying down between the couch the and window, which is a heck of a lot narrower than that spot.

The legs?

I don't know, I don't want to know.

I want her hair!

Angel of the Morning
Juice Newton

There'll be no strings to bind your hands
Not if my love can't bind your heart
There's no need to take a stand
For it was I who chose to start
I see no need to take me home
I'm old enough to face the dawn

Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Then slowly turn away from me

Maybe the sun's light will be dim
And it won't matter anyhow
If morning's echo says we sinned
Well, it was what I wanted now
And if we're the victims of the night
I won't be blinded by light

Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Then slowly turn away
I won't beg you to stay with me

Through the tears of the day
Of the years, ba-a-a-by
Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, darlin'
Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, darlin'

I can't wait to own this place.

That's what I thought after orientation was over and I was walking from the bookstore to Richardson Towers.

It's beautiful when it's not too hot. (When it's hot, and you have to walk, nothing is beautiful.)

By 'own it', I meant I wanted to be familiar and comfortable and zip my way around campus on my bike. (But no puppy in the basket!)

Orientation was Thursday and Friday. It was the first orientation session, and the best for us, since parents had to come (or were strongly urged to attend) and Mom's having surgery this week that would make orientation impossible. But it will greatly improve her life, I hope.

Orientation was boring and overwhelming at the same time.

Boring because we heard things that we'd read on the handouts, read on the website, heard from administrators before, and what we'd heard since middle school!

Pain in the ass. I was "required" to go to a financial aid workshop, and it was mostly about loans. And they didn't check roll.

But it was a lot of fun.

Thursday was cloudy and cool, and most of the buildings were freezing, and most of us were in shorts. Friday was hot and mostly sunny, and the buildings were not always freezing. We had to go to a career seminar before we could go on our own to register or tour the library or go to that workshop.

We'd been told Thursday that we should sit up front or at least in the "T". So after that, I sat in the first few rows everywhere, including the career seminar, which was embarrassing, because I got overheated, and I had to get out of there now, and I was in the front row!

But I left. My health matters more than hearing the same thing over and over again.

I went and took the French placement test. It didn't take the projected 20 minutes to half an hour, but I didn't make it into French 2. The minimum for that was 280 and I got 239. I'm glad. The last year I took French was my junior year, which is now 2 years behind me. I was going to take French 3 my senior, but they didn't bother tell me I couldn't until the Friday before school started - after registration! (Not enough people signed up, and this was an Honors course, which required an 'essay' (paragraph of lies) about why you wanted to take this test, and a parent's signature! It still bugs me, though not as much.

There was a party at the rec center Thursday night, and I didn't go. Apparently, everyone went between 6:45 and 7, even though our schedule said 7:30. They provided transportation back to Richardson Towers afterwards, but not before. I'd done a lot of walking that day, and I was exhausted. My mom could have driven me there, but I said no. I read outside, and then went to my room, which I'll get to later.

The food was okay, and I ate every meal alone except lunch on Thursday. Parents and students had separate dinners that night, and breakfast the next morning was only for parents who stayed in the towers, though my mom could have eaten with me. And lunchwas hot dogs and chips in Brister on floor below where we actually registered, and somebody had a doctor's appointment.

I'm not going in chronological order, am I?

My mom learned some things that I wished they'd told us. AP classes, dual enrollment, and home school transcripts don't mean that much at the bottom line - it's your ACT or SAT scores. (ACT, mostly. I don't know why it's the southern test, but I got a 29 the first time and a 30 the next - no studying!)

I knew nobody there, because I graduated a year earlier. They were nice, but I didn't recognize a soul.

We were assigned roommates, but mine decided to sleep in a friend's room. (I'm guessing her friend didn't have one or the roommate was willing to leave.)

However, I needed a roommate. My fentanyl patches, at their current size, do best along my spine, especially up high. They're less likely to get peeled up or moved, the higher and more centered they are. It's next to impossible to place it there yourself. I haven't tried at the risk of wasting a patch. My mom thought it was best on my abdomen, since that's where the pain is, but it's not. It was covered with tape by the second day.

Luckily, she agreed to do it. Though I probably weirded her out, it had to be done.

She did a great job, placing it directly above the last sight, which was a bright red, irritated square. (Sweat is the enemy, plus I rode my bike the day before.)

But it didn't stay. I walked and sweated Friday, I rode my bike and sweated Saturday, and Sunday I woke up and tape fell off. (It had to be taped Saturday.) It was off by 2. I got up, and walked into the kitchen, and it fell off.

However, I didn't have any pain in the next 6-7 hours. That's great, I can probably be weaned off next time I see the doctor! (I saw him Tuesday and said no, let's keep everything where it is.)

Back to orientation. I won free speakers for asking a lot of questions during the morning lectures, including one on the IT department. I asked so many (and sat in the front row) that another person in the department offered me a job there in the fall if I wanted it. That was cool. I felt bold after the whole patch thing.

My mom also asked a lot of questions. She was a bitch, because very few parents questioned anything. When she was told Friday morning (we wee froshies were at the career thing) that we had to pay $200 when we registered, she was pissed. It was not on the schedule or any of the information we'd been given the day before or that came in the mail.

She told the speaker that she would get me and leave if we had to pay $200 to register. Luckily, this other woman talked to her and got my name. I saw her at registration and she told me to tell my mom it was taken care of.

Registration was the last thing we had to do before we could leave, and it was so scary. I'm taking 3 honors courses - English, Acad, and a required Honors course. I'm also taking the first math listed on the math sheet and French 1, or whatever the numbers are.

I think I have only one class on Friday. And I'm done by 2 at the latest, and 8 at the earliest.

It's going to be so cool.

Thursday morning, when somebody was discussing scheduling your time, making sure you have time for your classes and studies, blah blah blah, I started crying. Luckily, this was before I sat up front.

I think I cried because I was scared, I was strongly reminded of the psych ward by a number of things, and hey, I am coming off the Lupron, and that puts you in artificial menopause. Last Tuesday, I also started crying. It was so bad Lois took me home early from the Crisis Center.

Some of the things that reminded me of the psych ward - the isolation, the helicopter pad in front of Richardson, the starkness of our rooms, and the feeling that if something goes wrong, it's your fault.

All completely stupid.

One cool thing later on Thursday, was when we split up to go to our colleges (Arts and Sciences, Business, Nursing, etc.) and then our majors. I was the only foreign language major, so I got one-on-one time with the advisor (he was the Spanish advisor, I'll have a different one when school starts), while most everybody had to make appointments for later in the day.

I am all over the map here.

I bought 2 books with mom's money. One is the required reading for all freshmen. (We all have to take the same Gen Ed courses.) That was Thursday morning, and it's speeches by Martin Luther King, Jr. Friday afternoon I bought a Rolling Stone with Johnny Depp and Keith Richards on the cover at the bookstore - before signing up to preorder my books. That was from my lunch money, but since it was provided at registration, Johnny will have to do.

As for transportation, they only talked about cars with the parents, naturally. Basically, if you plan to live on campus, a car is a liability, not an asset. Which is different from what the students from more rural areas are used to. Or even here, there's nothing to do within walking or biking distance besides the library or nothing. (You seriously want to hang out at Wal-Mart?)

I'm glad, it means I don't have to learn to drive yet. Ha!

Things they should have done:
  • Provided more infortmation on the schedules. Like the fact that lunch was provided Friday or the $200 registration fee!
  • Offered transportation to the rec center for Thursday's party.
  • Told the students and parents the same things, or let us attend more seminars together. Especially the one about the costs, since some students didn't have a parent with them, how will they know everything they need to know as soon as possible?
  • For an extra fee, let us stay with current students who are in a double for the summer but have no roommate. That way we can see what a room can look like and we can hear the unvarnished truth.
  • Hold it in winter!
See you at Frosh Camp!