Monday, February 23, 2009

Is February over yet?

I'm having another bad week, and I'm kind of annoyed about it all.

First of all, my overhead light fixture has been broken since the 11th (the bulb burned out, I tried to put another one in, and the socket just crumbled away, which was terrifying). And it took me until last Tuesday to get down to the office to put in a work order because I was so sick that week that I just didn't care. And the socket was only fixed today. Dude, it was not that big a deal. And they put a fluorescent bulb in, and it's making all my food look unappetizing, but I am afraid to put another bulb in because an electrical socket crumbling under your fingers is kind of a scary experience.

And I do not need my food to look unappetizing, because I am having a problem with that. I am really irritated with my body right now. I never gained back all the weight I lost from being sick, probably because my stomach is all shrunken now. And while I'm sure I'm supposed to be ecstatic about all this, because I will be the first to admit that I do need to lose weight, I lost it so fast and in such an unhealthy manner that now my entire lower abdomen has handfuls of loose skin (I can pull out about an inch and a half of just skin) and it is unbelievably disgusting. NephthysWrath pointed out that if I would just drink something besides soda and remember to put on lotion more than twice a month the skin would probably tighten up, but I reserve the right to be annoyed about it, because all this floppy loose skin makes me feel even fatter. Plus, now none of my jeans fit and having jeans that bag at the hips, butt, and thighs is not flattering.

So I went for a walk this evening because I hoped it would help my appetite come back, but I still don't want my dinner and now on top of it all I miss my telescope. This is one of the things that I normally try not to think about, but the sky was clear, Venus was out, my entire favorite section of the sky is out during early evening (Orion, the Pleiades, and Canis Major and Minor) and I will not have a telescope again for a very long time. I can't have one now anyway, what with living in a dorm and all, but once I do have an apartment it will probably be in a city so I don't have to deal with getting a car, and the light pollution will be prohibitive (and without a car I can't go out to a field somewhere in the middle of nowhere to get away from the light pollution.) And if I ever do get to have a telescope again, it will have to be a new one that I buy here. I love the one I have now, but it's a reflector telescope, so it's an absolute monster - four feet long, and with a swivelling wooden stand that probably weighs 30 pounds - and there is no way I can afford to ship it to England, especially if I want it to arrive without being knocked irrevocably out of alignment.

And finally, my archaeological illustration class is making me insane. I'm taking it because I know I can get a job doing it, but I'm beginning to realize that if I am unfortunate enough to have to actually take a job doing archaeological illustration I will probably throw myself off a tall building within days. I should be good at it, but instead it is the bane of my existence. It combines all the worst qualities of graphic design with the dullness of drafting, so I am bad at it and it makes me want to stab myself in the eye. The part of me that is still an artist spends most of the time shrieking "WHY ARE WE USING THIS TERRIBLE PAPER?" while my inner 2-year-old reacts as usual to the fact that neatness counts for more than talent, and has tantrums. On top of all this the instructor seriously dislikes me, and I can't really blame him - I'm so bad at it that it must be painful to observe, and also I haven't been able to come in to work during the week because of illness, so he thinks I'm a lazy, untalented slacker.

Oh yes, and my sinuses are acting up yet again, which they do every couple of months or so, but this time the Sudafed, which normally makes it stop within a few days, is not working. I don't know what to do. I was just a little stuffy at night for a couple of weeks, which was obnoxious but certainly not the end of the world, but now I've reached the stage where I spend all night with a sore throat and can't sleep because of it.

And yet I am kind of proud of myself, because if I were having a month like this at USC, I would have just folded up and probably had a meltdown, or at least called home in tears several times. Now? I'm okay. Annoyed, but okay.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Vampires

So I started reading Twilight, partly out of curiosity and partly because that book eats people's brains and I wanted to prove I was immune. (Don't worry, I didn't pay any money for it. The Internet and the PDF are both marvellous inventions.) To my intense relief, I am indeed immune. Thank God. I don't think I could stand the humiliation of liking that book. And this is why I will not be finishing it or touching any of the ones that come after it.

First of all, I am not a vampire girl anyway. I'm a werewolf girl. I'm pretty sure there's some unflattering psychology here (I'm extremely anal-retentive, and it would be nice to run around uncontrolled for a few nights a month) but vampires don't interest me and werewolves do. There are werewolves in Twilight, but they suck. And that's all I have to say about that.

And also, in terms of unconventional vampires, no one beats Pamela Dean's Dominic Hardy, the thinking vampire. I love Juniper, Gentian, and Rosemary more than any 24-year-old has a right to, and I dragged my copy to England even though it's a hardcover my parents found for me and it weighs about 10 pounds (the book has been out of print for years, and I used to monopolize the library's copy.) To be fair, I mostly love that book for its literary references, and I am still trying to work my way through all of them even though I started around the age of 14. Dominic himself barely interests me at all, but I've spent nearly ten years trying to track down the sources of all his riddles and quotations. Edward never had a chance. His banal conversation bores the snot out of me. This weekend, I will be reading Juniper, Gentian, and Rosemary for the 694306648396th time to get the bad taste out of my mouth.

Stephanie Meyer's writing is completely lacking in elegance. Someone buy that woman a thesaurus. And also, her foreshadowing? My God, hit me over the head with a bigger Unsubtlety Hammer. "No one's going to bite me in this town," har har har.

A minor, more specific peeve - you just moved somewhere, people are trying to be friendly to you, and you sneer at them and can't be bothered to remember their names? Come on, that's just shitty.

And finally, as I suspected, I was completely unable to identify with her vapid female character. I can only identify with extremely strong women. This is why I adore Connie Willis, Jane Austen, Margaret Mitchell, J. K. Rowling, Terry Pratchett, and other people who are capable of writing these kinds of women, women with definite personalities. The point is not that they defy society's expectations. What interests me is when they question these expectations and decide on their own whether or not they want to go along with them or walk away. Feminism, as I understand it, is about choice. It is just as acceptable for a woman to become a housewife and raise children as it is for her to earn three doctorates and work in a research lab and never marry. The point is to think about it and decide for yourself. Stephanie Meyer's "heroine" never even stops to think about whether she has a choice, and what she wants for herself, and that is what makes me ill. I cannot identify with women who blindly stumble along the path they are expected to follow without even stopping to think about their other options. It is hard to enjoy a book when you spend most of it alternately sneering and gagging at the heroine and declaring, out loud, approximately every other page, "You. Are. Pathetic."

Yes, yes, I know, don't hold back, tell us how you really feel, etc. I believe my point was that I hate these books even more than I expected to, and since I expected to want to burn them after reading, which goes completely against my normal attitude towards books (save them all!) that is extremely impressive. I was prepared to cut them some slack, being written for teenagers and all, and by all means, read and appreciate them for the trash they are, but good lord, now that I've looked at them I don't understand how anyone can genuinely like them and take them seriously. The die-hard fans scared me quite enough before, but now I'm afraid that if I encounter any of them in real life they'll get their crazy all over me, because it's clearly spilling out of their pores and oozing out into the air around them. Maybe the remaining uncontaminated population should be issued with Hazmat suits.

The best part? I know from reading other peoples' synopses that there is even more terrifying crazy to come, and I couldn't even make it that far before I had to give up. Jeebus.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Valentine's Day

I was going to have a whole discussion about how I feel about Valentine's Day, but I remembered that all the other single women with blogs or journals are going to cover all the ways single women feel about Valentine's Day. Since I don't feel particularly strongly about Valentine's Day anyway, I'll skip that part and you can read someone else's discussion. Let's talk about Black Hawk Down.

I watch Black Hawk Down every Valentine's Day. I started doing it because a) it had Ewan McGregor in it; and b) it was the most inappropriate movie I could think of. I suppose there's no particular reason to watch it anymore, because Ewan McGregor no longer interests me and I'm sure I could dig up an even more inappropriate movie from somewhere, but I'm going to keep doing it anyway because there are two more reasons why I still find it endlessly amusing. (Yes, yes, very serious movie, very serious issues. I know, okay? Jeez. Back to my point.)

First, there's the British Actors thing. This movie is crawling with British actors, and I have no earthly idea why. Were they running low on Americans? Seriously? I can forgive the odd Canadian (I know they have at least one in there) but why are there so many British actors? I'm not kidding. Go to IMDB and run down the list. It's absurd. I counted eight. I mean, I suppose there's no reason why they can't be in it if they can do an American accent, which most of them can, but why so many?

And then there's the Orlando Bloom thing. This is the main reason why I love this movie. See, Black Hawk Down came out on January 18th, 2002, and Fellowship of the Ring came out on December 19, 2001, a month before. And before Lord of the Rings, Orlando Bloom was an unknown. So when he was cast in Black Hawk Down, he was cast as the idiot rookie, because he was an unknown, but by the time the movie came out, he was...not. And so basically he appears, and is patronized, and then falls out of a helicopter about 20 minutes in and is unconscious for the rest of the movie and the other guys have to haul him around. It's amazing. It never fails to delight me.

So I'll be watching that again this year. Alas, there will be no wine or chocolate because I am still having trouble with food, but there will be orange juice and chips and I'm sure it will not detract from the experience.

Friday, February 13, 2009

*whine*

So I am, technically, over my food poisoning. But I am still not doing well. I can't eat. It makes no sense at all, because I'm not sick anymore, and although my stomach may have shrunk a little there's no reason why I should go three days without getting hungry. I've gone three days on scones and dry cereal, which I force myself to eat because otherwise I get lightheaded, but not hungry. I am so over this. I can't even eat the chocolate I got for myself on Monday afternoon, so I know something's wrong. And when I'm not eating enough I can't think.

And also - rapid weightloss is disgusting and repulsive. I don't know how anyone can stand to go on crash diets. It's only been three days (I would estimate I am eating about a quarter of what I normally would), but my skin is pale (okay, paler, not that it's that easy to tell) and my cheekbones are sticking out and I have loose skin. It's so gross. It's not like I can't afford to lose the weight, but this is clearly the wrong way to do it and I hate everything about it. Hopefully as soon as I can eat again I will gain it all back, because the loose skin in particular is really disgusting.

I'm also going mildly insane because I can't exercise. I need exercise to keep my brain chemistry from flying off in all kinds of alarming directions, but I'm afraid to do much if I'm not eating enough. I spent Wednesday feeling like I weighed 500 pounds (seriously, even getting across the hall to the bathroom was awful) and yesterday and today I wanted to go out for some exercise but was afraid to because I might get lightheaded (I've had some trouble with regulating my blood sugar in the past, and the last thing I need is to faint somewhere.)

So, yeah. In conclusion, food poisoning sucks, and I am annoyed. And I really wanted that chocolate, dammit.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

*urk*

I was actually planning to post something coherent this evening - I think it had something to do with Valentine's Day - but then I became horribly, painfully sick around 5 this evening and I can't think anymore. I'm just posting because I don't want to think about how sick I am, but reading and watching movies both make me more nauseous because I keep having to move my eyes (told you I was horribly sick). And I am an emetophobe, so I am just trying to pretend all this is not happening until it goes away. I actually had to Skype my parents because I have no idea what to do for an upset stomach. Apparently, the answer is to drink water until you've kept it down for two hours, then Sprite, 7-up or ginger ale (I think the last time I had any of those was when I was 15 and had meningitis from Lyme disease and basically don't remember a week of my life, so this is alarming) and then crackers.

And now I actually have to apologize, because I usually have an internal list of random things I wanted to talk about for times like these, but I am so sick that I have forgotten every single one of them. Now this post is nothing more than "I am sick and upset and gradually going crazy."

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Siblings

David IMed me this morning to ask me what to get Dad for his birthday, and I sent him to CafePress, because Dad will not buy new t-shirts on his own, but will wear his old ones until they fall to pieces, so that Mom is embarassed to be seen with him. (Engineers do this, and I don't know why.) About 5 minutes later David IMed me back to say, "You need this shirt." And then I laughed until my stomach hurt, because the truth is hilarious.