missmal

I remember years back (YEARS back) when Alienware was a thing. I remember the sweatshirts, skateboards and that damn green alien logo. Actually, I think I even bought a shirt because the alien was cute and the name catchy to a middle schooler. I don't really know that I knew what the company was (although I most likely just assumed it was a skateboard company considering that's where all of their merchandise tended to be housed) but I figured it out sometime in high school and it was significantly less cooler. Gaming computers? What are those even useful for?

So, all those years ago, never did I imagine that I would not only OWN a gaming computer but it would be from the best of the best. That's right, my father has gotten me, as one of my Xmas gifts, an Alienware gaming computer - and I'm effing stoked on it. It gets here in a week and I'm like peeing myself in anticipation. Oh, the fastness. Oh, the beautiful graphics card (cause you know when Shaun gets mildly excited about a piece of computer hardware then it must be good). Oh, the pretty, pretty computer box (black housing with purple lights, FYI). It's not exactly as if I was a total video gaming reject pre-WoW, but it's definitely upped my status from casual gamer to complete and utter outright geek. And I'm kind of okay with that, even if I do sometimes long for the simpler days of Baldur's Gate and Champion's of Norrath.

So that's exciting. Like really, really exciting. Potentially more exciting than it should be. But Britney's new single is also exciting. Her adorableness out in full force for the video, the song catchy like the rest of her best stuff and oh, the sweet breakdown mid/end of the song melts my heart. Besides that, the well runeth over, at least on the rockside of things. New Chevelle (musicgasm), new Breaking Benjamin (a little "eh" but still worth it), Three Days Grace (not One-X, but still amazing) and, more importantly, new Flyleaf. The Flyleaf is intersting, it's different in a lot of ways than the first album and it does take more than one listen to get adjusted to. But when you bring yourself to that place, you start to hear some truly epic songwriting - soaring choruses, ethereal vocals, guitars working with vocals to come to musical climaxes. It actually has some really rather brilliant moments, even though there are songs on the album I probably won't ever listen to again, something that didn't happen with the first record.

But most amazing of all? This song. It makes my heart beat a little faster, I won't deny it.

Life is good. Fast computers and music to take you to that other place. Really couldn't ask for more ...

To be perfectly frank, I have a hard time pretending that there is anything interesting going on my life when there isn't and, as such, have found little use for this beloved piece of vain technology that used to be my heaven. I still don't have anything interesting to say and therefore shall catalogue all the useless little boring, day-to-day things that fill my life, effectively using this thing exaclty how diaries were always meant to be used! Well ... only because I'm far too old and not single to be bitching about how my parents are totally, like, so not fair, you guys, and OMGZ there's the hottest boy in my fourth period English class ...

A+ for nonsensical babbling skills, oh yeah.

The roof in our bedroom has started to leak and this was mostly kind of okay until yesterday when I woke up to find that the drip had moved from Shaun's side of the bed to mine. Waking up to water dripping on your head ... radical. So Lorraine had to come over with her parents and do that thing they do every time where they come and "fix" it (fix in this situation translating into: it works until the next big storm, at which point it will move places and develop a new symptom such as paint peelage). It's not my house, so I don't really care but if they have to replace the roof (and that's looking likely) but I might have to go into convulsions with the constant invasion of my home by strangers. Such is the start of hermitage that WoW has placed me into. And yes ... I still play WoW.

In additional news, my body continues to fail me. And by fail, I do mean conditions which I have fully brought on myself. Went to the doctor for a pap, only to be told I have ridiculously high blood pressure for someone of my age and need to cut the salt out of my diet. I left that appointment very determined that I would cut the sodium out of my diet completely, until I went to the grocery store and realized that obliterating sodium from your diet is not only next to impossible, it would cultivate a tragically bland diet that would make life not worth living. But that also led to the revelation that cutting back the sodium in my diet meant just that .... cutting back, a somewhat easier task once I figured out that I was probably ingesting like ten times the daily recommended value of sodium. But it seems to be working and cutting out sodium inevitably causes you to eat healther in general, so I've been feeling pretty good lately.

Until my dad came out and I had a salt bonanza, that is. Now I feel like crap again but it IS that time of the month that the migraines like to come out and play so ... who knows? Combination of both? Probably. Also, Mango has some sort of really nasty flesh eating scabies on his butt that smells vaguely of pus. WHY, ANIMAL, WHY??

That's my life. High blood pressure, World of Warcraft, jogging, and very loud, very constant dance music. It's a simple life, but a good one.

Okay, so ... anyway. IIIIII saw No Doubt live!!! It's my second time and it brought back memories of my first time (Tragic Kingdom era) and I was basically this dripping pile of nostalgia and so like ... while I had a really good time, it was definitely bittersweet. Kind of like acknowledging, really for the first time, that an era of your life has passed. I had an amazing time, Gwen was as cute and perky as ever (though definitely older, no more on stage tumbles), Adrian is still wearing nothing and the band, as a whole, still sounded frickin' amazing.

Okay, but this night was not without its trauma. First off, understand that the road to Journal Pavilion is paved with dumbassery. Okay, I peed, like ... right before we left. JP itself is only about a ten minute drive away from us. But it's basically a two lane road (a very, very ridiculously LONG two lane road) to get, not into the stadium, but into the parking lot. So as we left the freeway and had been in the line for about five minutes I was like, "Oh ... I kinda have to pee". No biggie.

But after about an hour and a half in said line, I completely (no joke) thought that I was
gonna wet myself. So hot with my boyfriend right next to me, right? So I'm like ... holy freaking crap, I need to do something or I'm gonna seriosuly make a puddle and, mind you, all around me women were getting out of their cars to find some semblence of privacy behind medians and mountains to pop a squat. I was desperate, but not desperate enough to piss in the view of about 30 people at any given time. I also had no female lookout to go with me, so eff THAT noise. By the way, did you know that, after elongated periods of holding pee the process becomes painful? Luckily at about the time I was ready to make a puddle in the seat, we got to the parking lot ... or at least close enough to not get a ticket, at which point I gave my flip flopped feet blisters with the speed in which I raced from the car to the porta potty line.

Okay and seriously, dudes ... if your cheap asses resort to porta potties in the first place, why the hell can't you put some along the 15 year long line leading to the ampitheater? The line was soooo long ... we missed Paramore. See if I ever waste my money at that shithole again.

Umm ... Oh, a couple of days before we went to go see The Action Design and The Dollyrots. We missed like ... 99.5% of The Dollyrots cause two bands just, like, didn't show up. So they went on earlier than expected. And I wanted to smash heads. But then The Action Design came on and sounded so amazing while Agent M Emily just exuded adorability that I quickly forgot my annoyance. Sorry, but I am just getting to be too damn old to sit through 8 shitty bands to see the one or two I came for. That crap may've worked when I was in high school and all shows were a fairytale wonderland, but now it's just sort of like ... Damn it, my back hurts, when can I sit??

Then Shaun and I got it into our heads we were gonna, last minute, go to the Taking Back Sunday show. Yet, wonder of wonders, a new crop of skanky, far-too-young-to-be-banging-band-members-and-yet, female groupie bitches has cropped up to replace the ones we left behind and the show sold out. Who knew?

... My god, this is one bitter entry. You know why? Cause I'm awesome.

So, today is officially the most depressing day ever.

I've had my little emotional breakdowns and now it's time to go fill my time with WoW and not think about stuff.

So I have come to the conclusion that my teacher for American Banned Books and American Naturalism and Realism is pretty much one of the most amazing men to set foot on a college campus. Shall I set the scene for you? Okay, then - picture it: I'm sitting quietly in class (all dolled up because it's the first day and for some reason I am convinced that makeup and nice clothes will earn me friends) when I hear the door burst open and a shout of "HELLO!!!!! HOW ARE YOU????" echo throughout the tiny classroom.

And then I see him ...

Balding, with a semi-circle of wiry gray hair which sticks out at impossible angles (almost as if to announce that no, it has never before seen a comb in its life and no, it does not care if you think it looks bad) he strides briskly into the room exuding confidence and enthusiasm and a slight bit of crazy. He proceeds to shout at us numerous times all with this maniacal gleam in his eye and I am pretty sure I am in-teacher-love. He immediately insists that he will only answer to the name of "Tom Cruise" (Dr. Cruise, if we are more comfortable with that) and proceeds to tell awful jokes (which he will later repeat verbatim to his next class) and warns us that should any of the students in both his classes ruin the punch lines to his jokes, we will be given bad grades. I ... am ... in ... heaven.

It's so easy to get disillusioned with teachers and (imho) with English teachers in particular. So many of them are pompous, full of themselves and condescending. *cough*UNMEnglishChair*cough* To find one that has a sense of humor about himself, that unapologetically repeats jokes and that truly works at making you learn something is beyond refreshing. Thank God for the good ones.

She crosses my wires. I am, by nature, a forgiving person ... well, at least to those I love. If you're Ms. Griff I can hold a grudge forever (and seriously lady ... you're a bitter old hag who will die alone). I have a very hard time turning away those who've been important in my life regardless of what they've done to me. There are, however, a few people (generally people who I've counted among my best friends) who've just abused the friendship too much, left me alone one too many times, betrayed my trust in the most heinous of ways and those are the people I steel myself against the most. Or at least in theory ... I have all of these great angry, strong-willed thoughts but, when actually faced with that person I want nothing more than to forgive them and for things to go back to the way they were.

With this particular person, she was my absolute best friend from middle school through part of high school. I don't really regret the way things happened between us, even remembering just how very painful it was, because if she hadn't earned herself a huge boot from my life, I might never have gotten close to my absolute best friend soulmate. Friends tend to sort of limit the social interaction you do with others and not having my La in my life I am sure would have left a very huge void. That being said, I can think back on the times I had with that person and long for it, feeling an almost physical pain of nostalgia. I know she used to be a good person and that outside influences turned her into what she became but, certainly, fragments of that awesome girl I used to know must still exist.

And there starts my dilemna. I can't help but remember how amazing a friendship with her was but I can't quite forget how much she hurt me. I want to envelope her in my arms while pushing her away in spite. My feelings for her are quite contradictory to themselves and it puts me in an incredibly confusing limbo of emotions. I wish I were more decisive.

Maybe I really just wish I knew what I wanted. I'm not unhappy, just all muddled.

<3 Jinx!

So I haven't been in a very good mood lately ... but I'm pretty sure the cuteness of this video has the power to end world wars.

I hurt a friend's feelings tonight without even realizing that I was doing it. He took a statement that I had meant to be completely innocuous and found insult in it. I'm not angry that he did so, only frustrated that it happened at all. I felt extraordinarily helpless because it was completely obvious that, despite my best efforts at persuading him otherwise, he truly believed I was calling into question his character. Even at the end when he said we were good, I could feel that we weren't.

This mystifies me - it seems that quite often lately I am having to explain myself to others and do damage control for things I shouldn't have to. I don't know what's wrong ... it's like the world's out of whack. Like I'm not fitting in and not connecting with people. Just missing the mark. For someone who tries to be there for people as best she can, this is a new territory and one I thoroughly hate.

Where is the disconnect? More importantly, why?

In my twenty four years of life I have not found a single thing that I derive more pleasure from than sitting at my computer or next to my best friend and singing along to Britney Spears.

You can talk all the shit about her you want, but she's a fucking phenomenon.

baby, you're so unusual
didn't anyone tell you you're supposed to
break my heart
i expect you to
so why haven't you?

Such a curious situation. I always manage to find myself in the oddest of circumstances with very little clue of how I got there.

I think I have discovered the most disgusting combination of liquids to puke up together - Nyquil and Spite. Try it sometime. It's absolutely heinous.

Nyquil, you fail me!

Anyway, I had planned to, on Thanksgiving, write this super mushy post where I told you all how much I loved you and was thankful for you but then got bit by the death bug and can pretty much only think in annoyance and pain. Stupid health ... It will still come, just ... later than expected. :-D

Oooooof course. Freaking ... just like ... of course. I never get sick, my immune system is a rockstar. Shaun will be hacking and sneezing and I will be as fresh as a Spring flower throughout but the one weekend my father gets out here, I manage to catch the cold of the apocolypse. Dude, even when I do get sick, I don't get sick this bad.

It started with a sore throat and the next morning I woke up to absolute misery and have been living in this digusting, leaky, congested nebulus ever since. For the love of God, I even threw up ... I never throw up when I get sick (like cold sick). Apprently my body decided that the countless hours I spent over the toilet with migraines just plain wasn't enough though, in truth, I probably brought that one on myself with my overdose of Nyquil. (Lesson learned: Dosages on the back of Nyquil boxes aren't just to add pretty, scientific looking writing to packaging ... they mean something. Check.) Not only did I surpass the recommended amount of Nyquil, I also downed a glass of Airbourne directly after (which ... the nastiness of those two medicines combined was almost enough to make me heave it back up) so I think it was just too much hardcoreness all together.

But, dude ... a single dosage of Nyquil is normally enough to knock me the hell out for a minimum of 12 hours and this time all it did was make me pathetically sleepy without actually putting me to sleep. So after a night of tossing, turning, puking and overmedicating, I have spent most of today lying on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness. This was exactly how I wanted to spend my time with my father. I suppose to should feel lucky that it is happening now because I don't have to hack my way through Shakespeare and my dad is here to take care of me but, really, I'm annoyed that I can't fully enjoy my time with him.

I am currently typing on a ginooooormous screen. It is big and glorious, an early xmas gift from Shaun. For awhile now I've been envying Shaun's screen because it really does make WoW look all kinds of awesome so ... apparently my incessant bitching about my small (it's not actually small) screen got through. :-) Was a good booster because I was going through a bit of a WoW overdose. The game can get boring? Surely not! I don't ever get completely tired of it but that's mostly because there's a few people I adore that I really can only communicate with through WoW.

Anyway, in true dork fashion, Shaun and I lined up for the midnight release of Wrath of the Lich King and it was pretty damn cool. There was all of this geek speak going on and I have deduced that, while WoW breeds some of the biggest dumbshits to have walked this earth, it has also drawn in some of the funniest dudes around. (And I do mean "dudes" ... I was one of like two girls in line.) We managed to get in line next to a GM who literally had me about to pee myself. It was all good until him and a few others starting making fun of people who were buying the collector's edition just to get Frosty at which point I kind of had to look around like, "Yeah, so stupid, who would do that? Pssf ..." (A moment repeated like five minutes later when they made fun of people who made gnome warriors ... *pats Thisalee gently*) Oh oh! I thought this was so cute ... they had a Horde and Alliance + Blood Elves line and the Ally/Belf line had the caption "Mailboxes are for mail, not for dancing on naked". Seriously it was wonderful.

Anyway, my dad will be arriving tomorrow and I still have a shit ton of cleaning to do but I've literally gotten sick like every night for the past week and a half. Not really feeling the breathing in of cleaning fluids when I'm already about to puke with migraine. Seriously, my body fails. Lai and I had wanted to go see Twilight on its opening weekend, as a matter of fact that had been the plan for awhile, but we both started our periods and the hell that they bring at the same time so that got shot down the crapper. I shouldn't have been born a female. Whatever, Twilight, in all probability, is going to be one big cheesy crapfest so I'm not too terribly distraught I didn't get to go opening weekend. I mean, really, when you think about it, I probably saved my eardrums some strife, bypassing hundreds of screeching teenage girls who think that vampires are, like, so totally hot. If nothing else, the Twilight phenomenon has proved to America that teenage girls are, in fact, the mindless twits that television shows make them out to be.

Speaking of movies, I am sooooo gonna make my dad sit through Wall-E when he gets here. Poor man is probably more well-versed in cartoons than any father should be. Cause I mean ... aren't daughters supposed to grow out of their Disney phase when they leave home? Not just yet ...

Dear self,

Stop being so fucking sensitive!

Love, yourself.

I have this awful penchant towards sensitivity. I think it stems from expecting (and I realize this is awful) a certain kind of treatment from people. That's terrible, it makes me sound like I think I'm entitled to something, but that's really not it. Part of the problem resides in the fact that it's my womanly time of anger and angst during which I am prone to extreme weepiness and bouts of self-pity ... When I went from being bitchy to being weepy I'll never know (though I blame YOU, birth control!) but I'm not entirely sure it's the better course. I'm already a sensitive person, I do not need this amplified montly, you know?

Anyway, I let the littlest things upset/offend me, things that really shouldn't and it only really ever applies to people I really like and/or care about and they are the people that should least be the recipients of my lame womanlyness. What's worse is that I know I do it and can't seem to do anything about it. I sit there and actively think, "No, Mal ... this is a dumb thing to get hurt over, don't be silly" but to no avail. I hate being sensitive and Shaun likes to say that if you don't want to be upset by something then don't be, but it's like he has an emotions switch that I don't.

To all the people who have felt the bad side of my emotionalness, I'm sorry. Just know that, though I get my feelings hurt easily and that might make me difficult to deal with, if I love you I'm always there for you and, hopefully, I make it up by being someone whose shoulder you can cry on and who you can come to for anything. The flip side of sensitivity is that it tends to make a you an awesome friend when you're not being silly.

As a side note, I think some of the most wonderful people I've ever met in my life I've met on WoW.

Nothing to do. So why not do this? In my defense, it's been quite awhile since I've posted one. Yes. That makes it alllll better.

( Survey boringness goes HERE. )

Well, it has been brought to my attention that I have grossly neglected LiveJournal and, as the internet is the only way I can communicate with certain friends, this is bad. So, pretty much, this entry is for Steph and Steph alone because I love her dearly.

It is true that World of Warcraft has taken over my life and I really see very little reason to do anything else anymore but, to be fair, the only times I had high peaks of LJness was when a.) I was constantly bored and felt the need to grace everyone with my long-winded, extremely inconsequential ramblings or b.) I actually had something to write about. Well, WoW makes life worth living and, as such, there is absolutely NOTHING going on in my life worth mentioning and thus ... the spiderwebs have accumulated.

So what's going on other than nothing? School started but it's ridiculously chill and there's nothing to report except that my Shakespeare teacher is kinda sorta batshit crazy and this is rather amazing and almost makes me like Shakespeare until I remember that my teacher is funny and not him-of-the-convoluted-language. I'm so serious. Our second paper requires us to write the opening paragraph to a "theroetical" paper, consisting of us beginning an essay as if we were supposed to write the whole thing. Because 60 students worth of papers is too much to read and he doesn't want to do it again. I am so serious.

Also ... football season has arrived! (And, OMG, did anyone see the Cowboys/Eagles game? Holy shit!) Our fantasy leagues are going pretty well, we're in the top of both but it's only the second week. I would go further into that and name the players we got but I am almost positive there's no one who reads this that would care. Also, Shiny Toy Guns is going to Albuquerque (:-)) but Laila will not be here (:-(). Such is life. What else? Oh, my grandmother came to visit so I got to ride the drama train for like a week. Good times. Annnd ... that's it. Ba Dum Bah!

After mooching a bite of banana off of Shaun:

Shaun: I forgot I can't eat bananas around the monkey.
Me: (mouthful of banana) Oh, really, well, this monkey is keeping the banana.
Shaun: Give me the back the banana!
Me: No, monkeys don't give bananas back.
Shaun: I did not buy enough bananas for me to share.
Me: You didn't buy any bananas.
Shaun: Your father did not buy enough bananas for me to share.

And then my father, on AIM, showing his true priorities like five minutes later after I had IM'ed him at 3:00am because it was weird he was on:

pakmn4 (3:15:46 AM): had to go to bathroom
thoughts in pink (3:15:57 AM): ah. it was just so strange.
pakmn4 (3:16:13 AM): you allright just awake?
thoughts in pink (3:16:26 AM): oh, yeah, i'm fine. watching some tv.
pakmn4 (3:16:49 AM): ok and mango???

So, I had a fairly awful night the night before last. I got sicker than I can ever remember being and had the most ridiculously long session of puking that I've ever had and this is including all the nights I've spent over a toilet with my migraines. I don't know what brought it on, I have no idea where it came from but it truly was one of the most awful experiences I've ever had. And now ... the gory details.

I woke up at 5:30 or so and just ... felt awful. I mean, I can't even explain how bad I felt or what exactly it was that felt so awful but I know that I was nauseous and my stomach ... it didn't hurt, it just felt awful. I can't really distinguish the issue there, it was just bad. Oddly enough, all of this and no headache, so thank goodness for that. Anyway, I really, really didn't want to puke and am generally good at not throwing up in non-migraine situations so I took a Pepto and slunk my way back to bed, only to have it come back up about 15 minutes later.

This continued until about 9, when I finally passed out, though I was steadily throwing up every half hour or so until that point. And this wasn't your regular, run-of-the-mill throwing up - I considering myself a throwing up pro, having had to do it so frequently, and this had even me sobbing on the bathroom floor. After about the 3rd or 4th session, I was pretty damn sure there couldn't possibly be anything left to throw up, but I was very freaking wrong. And the worst part of it was that this was like ... gut wrenching, painful and violent. Not like projectile or anything, just ... violent.

At like 8 or so I had figured out that lying down made the nausea and pain worse and would most definitely lead to more puking, so I was trying to keep myself upright. But, and I am so not exaggerating, my body was so fatigued from the effort of throwing up that I could not hold my head up. It kept dropping down and somewhere in between trying to keep myself upright I passed out and woke up bent over with my head in my lap. It's times like that that I really miss my dad - Shaun doesn't really take care of me when I get sick. My dad would have been there, talking with me, sitting with me, asking me if I needed anything. It's incredibly sad to have to go through that process alone and my dad is very good at keeping me from panicing and making it worse. (Which I had actually done several times when the throwing up had gotten so fast and hard that I was having trouble breathing.)

Anyway, I woke up this morning at 9 and was nauseous again to which I was like ... you have to be freaking kidding me. But I fell back asleep quickly and when I woke up the feeling had passed so thank God for that. Interestingly, I have had some side effects. Hiccups hurt and breathing too deeply (especially sighs) hurts like hell so I must have put a shit load of stress on my body that night. Even just breathing regularly is slightly painful and it sort of feels like there's a weight on my chest. I don't know, man ... it was just so strange.