this is one of those days of blogging i would have skipped

This is one of those posts that you shouldn't even bother reading. It's long, and it's venting, and it should be in some pen and ink journal somewhere...if I still had one of those going...which I don't...which means it ends up on my blog.

If I wasn't doing the whole 365 blogposting thing, you'd have been spared entirely.

This weekend has been a little manic. Too many ups and downs.

Downer #1 ~ I was sicker than shit on Friday. I woke up with a screaming headache and nausea, and tossed my cookies in the afternoon (after Mouse talked me into drinking apple cider vinegar, which she said would either settle my stomach or make me vomit--mission accomplished).

Now, this is the 3rd time I have had this happen recently. Headache, nausea, a good hurl, more headache...and then poof...it's all gone the next day.

The first time it happened was a day or two after I pumped the house full of burnt plastic. That only made sense. Two lungs full of fumes might make anyone go looking for a bucket.

The second time this happened was a couple of weeks ago. It was 2 days after coming home from Disneyland, and it was directly related to coming off of the coffee I had pumped into myself in order to make it through 5 days of Christmas music following me everywhere we roamed.

Now, I can tell you for certain that coffee and I do not get along. I'm fine with other forms of caffeine, it would seem, but not coffee. And I looooooooove coffee. Love it Love it Love it (tellin' you how I really feel, eh Rabbitch?). If I drink exactly one cup of coffee every morning, me and coffee coexist just fine. If I drink more than one cup?? I get anxious and jumpy. And if I miss more than a day?? I get headaches. But a daily dose of one cup?? Works just fine.

Sadly however, I hate being a slave to...well, anything. Ok, just about anything. So show coffee who is boss, I go in spurts with it. Sometimes it's daily, then sometimes I will for long periods of time with (*sniff sniff*)...none.

Tea? No problem. The occasional caffeinated soda? No problem either. It's only coffee.

Anyhow...I hadn't had ANY caffeine whatsoever since the PostDisneyPuke...not in any form. No coffee, no soda, no tea. Until this past Thursday. I went out for lunch, and I a diet coke plus the refill the waitress offered. Here comes puke-a-thon number three, this past Friday, when I wake up with a headache and a hurl.

Was it the caffeine this third time? I have no idea. It that is the case, it is very very sad, though. It's bad enough longing for coffee. I don't know if I can live without tea. I love herbal tea, but we're talking about never getting to use that oolong pot again, dudes. I think I will die if I am becoming this sensitive to caffeine. Death by drowning oneself in a vat of darjeeling or something. *sigh*



Anyhow, so there I was all upchuck-ish Friday night, and then comes Upper #1 ~ TheMostImportantGuy came and brought me wonton soup to soothe my tummy, and cuddled up with me and got all lovey, and I was just feeling very wonderfully taken care of.

On Saturday, I was feeling much better. We realized we could make the best of another rainy day by creating our own double feature. Hence Upper #2. We made a very quick dash into Berkeley (more independent theaters there) and by way of two different theaters, we first saw The Orphanage, and then There Will Be Blood, both of which I enjoyed, even more than I suspected I would.

But then comes....Downer #2 ~
Well, after the movie, we were making our way to a nearby pub for pizza and drinky-poos, and I slipped and fell.

I haven't fallen in a really long time. Now granted I was cruising one legged, on crutches with tips that are long overdue for a change, the ground was slick with rain, and the pavement....well, it wasn't even really pavement. It was a stretch of sidewalk that was sort of, well, it was black and slick and uneven. It kind of looked like tar, and it looked temporary. Whatever it was, it sucked fucking ass, and my left crutch went skidding out from underneath me and I went down pretty hard. And there I am in my cute little polka dot miniskirt and uber-colorful rainboot, and I'm flailing about in a puddle. I landed pretty hard on my left hand, my left knee, and my left hip.

The thing that really hurt though, was my sense of...I don't know how to describe it...security, maybe? I mean, it really shook me up. I was quite uneasy for awhile after. Very shaky and unsettled. I am sure that physically I was still in a bit of shock. Mentally though, I found myself questioning my recent decision to get my fat ass out of the wheelchair more often and use the crutches a bit more, as a way of keeping strong in different parts of my body. It also made me really think about what taking a dump like that will be like 20 years from now (ie age 60), assuming I make it that far, which happens to be my plan.


I woke up this morning, for Downer #3. I could barely move. The top of my foot hurt, my knee hurt, my whole low back area had screeching pain across my sacrum, and the erector muscles running up and down the back alongside the spine were screaming pretty loudly, too. Most of that has settled down (thanks to a horse-pill sized motrin), but at the moment, my right shoulder is killing me.


The rest of today? Up and down some more.

Downer #4 ~ I got an email in the morning from NoBlogRachel inviting me to a knit-in that was going to happen today in Berkeley. I was very excited. I haven't been to a knitting group in ages, and I haven't really been as social active as I much as I am used to, either. Also interesting to me me was the idea that to go to the knit-in, you had to cast on for something new there. As you saw yesterday, I have two things worthy of casting on. Like now. So it was going to be a grand day out for me.

I should have been able to go. MyFavoriteKid was at his dad's this weekend and I had nowhere else I needed to be. Provided I could stand the physical pain of sitting up, of course, and the horse-pill had kinda taken care of that part.

But NOooooooooo. MyFK's dad totally ruined it for me. Totally. The ins and outs are not worthy of describing here, but in my opinion, I got shafted, and although I was happy to have MyFK home earlier in the day (as it's his last day of vacation), I felt totally frickin' ripped off for not getting to go hang out with a bunch o' knitterly types.

Me thinks it time to find a knitting group up here in my new 'hood.

One more for the the manic upswing side, though. Upper #3 ~ TheMIG, how I love him so.....He helped me early in the morning with the annual "phoning in for a dance slot" drill for the Rakkasah bellydance festival, which requires hours and hours and hours of hitting redial (we got a slot! more on that soon). Then he doled out some more loveydovey goodness, and then he helped me do my grocery shopping (to keep me from doing all that toting and lifting, potentially hurting myself even more). Oooo, and he helped me by rearranging the garage a bit so I could get the packed up boxes of holiday decorations properly stored. My hero.


Then I was just about to end the evening on an Upper....but them came Downer #5. MyFavoriteKid, the poor dear....he couldn't sleep come bedtime. His stomach was upset, he was scared and shaking, totally freaked out....why?? Because on his way home today, his genius dad took him to a matinee showing of I Am Legend. Now MyFK is totally freaked out because in real life he's lost people to cancer and he's now worried that if there is ever a cure for it there will also be zombies and people blowing themselves up. Lovely. So here I sit at 11:40pm trying to squeech in a damn blogpost done before midnight. And why is the blogpost not done sooner?? Because thanks to MyFK's asswipe father...who did the irresponsible un-equivalent of jacking the kid up on sugar and dropping him off at the doorstep....has caused me to spend the last 2-1/2 hours refilling hot water bottles, rubbing my kid's back, soothing his worried mind, and listening to relaxation cd's with him.


So grand total for the weekend: 3 uppers, 5 downers. Hmmm. Maybe that isn't manic after all. Doesn't there need to be an equal number of mood swings for it to be manic? All I can say, is thank god for TheMIG. I think I'd have been in the officially depressed zone without him.


Anyhow. That's me.
Long winded, which yes...does seem to happen from time to time.
Or is that: time and time again.
Or maybe: again and again and again.