true blue

 Soooo I just got a call from my doctor's office, and it turns out that I have a severe infection in my lower intestine. This is in addition to having Crohn's. ulcerative colitis, and anemia. And I've probably had it for the last two weeks. Fantastic. It explains the stabbing pains and fever, at least, because I just thought that was my Crohn's flaring up.

I'm terrified because if this hadn't been detected it could have morphed into a terrible, I-go-to-the-hospital kind of thing. Uncool. My immune system is in pieces on a good day, so this stuff scares me shitless. 

I am not going to turn this this into a "OMG I HAZ HEALTH PROBLEMS" thing. I am just kind of bummed about this. Every test I've gotten back from my doctor's visit last week has had bummer results, and I am just so done with feeling crappy. It is not my idea of a good time.

Now I am going to call my friend who has a car (important asset to any college student) and see if she would do me the amazing favor of giving me a ride to the nearest CVS so I can get the antibiotics that I need to start taking as soon as possible. Which means missing more class on top of my absences of last week (super).

How I dream of the days when I can eat cashews and live without pills. That would be pretty nice.

 I"ve been thinking a lot about my dad lately, since he was Working when I moved into school, and since when I went home overnight last week he was in Michigan, also Working. So I haven't seen him since I left in the middle of August! This is a bummer, as my dad and I are pretty tight. 

We had our apocalyptic fights back in the day, and things got nasty and unfortunate, but we've always been buds- despite his total and all-consuming insanity. He is health-food-obsessed, preachy, contrary, annoying, and extremely bald. 

But he is also hilarious and fun. He taught me to ballroom dance. He gave me my ear for music. He encouraged every corner of my intellect. And he was a major architect of the amazing childhood that I was lucky enough to have.

Dating from my Neolithic youth, my dad has drawn me hilarious little cartoon drawings of himself as the evil "Dad Man" and "his nemesis, Mom-Lady". I am giggling right now as I think about them. Since I've been at college he was written me a few unbelievable letters with misspellings like "imbuded", "sence", "wonds", and "mauldin" (the last one being my personal favorite). They are illustrated with self-portraits, portraits of me ("not to scale or actual appearance actually"), cryptic symbols, and pictograms. And they make my day so bright that I laugh to myself nine hours after reading.

I actually miss him a lot, even though I know that the moment he's here for Parents' Weekend next week he will be telling me to make myself protein smoothies using my jury-rigged showerhead and a screwdriver. And that will make me want to strangle him, but with a hug. In an "I missed you SO much!" kind of way.

 So I really do mean to be one of those Livejournal People: The people who update all the time and who are good writers and who post their fic and who are witty and clever. 

ALAS, as of yet I have not fulfilled this obligation (at all, really). But I mean to. Particularly as I shall have this summer, which will be composed more completely of Hanging Out in a very hip fashion, leaving me far more free time to make devastatingly clever remarks on here. 

I feel that this is a good plan with few possible flaws standing in the way besides a certain amount of laziness and infinite_beauty making fun of me (inevitable).

But right now, I am in Paris! And I will enamor you all with a full account very shortly.

Title: Burgundy
Wordcount: 902
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and I make no money...sadly.
Summary: When Stephen Black is finally able to explore some of Lost-Hope, he meets one denizen in particular who piques his interest.
Author's Note: Well, the plot seems to be taking off (such as it is). I'm not completely sure where this is going, but I think it might be somewhere interesting. There will certainly be more to follow :)

  

( Burgundy, Part Three )

 

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Oh man, I love this dude and his sticky-out ears, okay.

And the real reason I don't like John McCain as president? I think he was a cool soldier-type and such, but I don't want an undead president in the White House. It leaves America vulnerable to the next zombie attack.

Although I may, in fact, be a lying liar who lies. It has too long, dear LJ of mine, for that hussy Facebook has lured me from you, what  with her shiny wall posts and status updates and things. But I don't need her! I need you, dear one, and I shall try to retain my fidelity from here on out.

At the very least, one can say I am a gentleman rather than a faithless cad.

Yes, I am writing again! Too bad, though, that I am only reposting in various places some work that previously was only seen on the Pit. I was reading through my old stories and I found one that really should see the light of day-it so happens that it's good. At least, I think it's good. In any case, good or not, here it is.

Fandom: His Dark Materials
Rating: G
Genre: Adventure/General
Warnings: Original characters, but not many. Takes place before the events of The Golden Compass.

My epic failure at journal-ing nowithstanding, I find myself back in the Land of Deadly Insects and Delicious Fruit. I visited my Great-Aunt Jane last night, and so I have to share this little gem.

We were speaking of names and their origins, which is where old people's alarming racism always ends up coming into play.

Great-Aunt: Well, that's almost as African a name as 'Jamal'.
'Phritie: Actually, Aunt Jane, that name is Kenyan in origin.
Great-Aunt: But it's still black!!

.......Yes, Aunt Jane. Yes it is.

Ah, the third Livejournal renaissance. Let's hope this one lasts, hm? Real entries forthcoming, I swear.

Since that's the class I'm in right now, MUCH LIKE YESTERDAY. While I am unimpressed with the general State of my Life at the moment(mostly due to a single, boy-shaped annoyance that Won't Go Away) , things could, in fact be worse. (In theory). I took my midterm for Algebra II the other night, and I was the first to finish. Naurally, my father had a fit.

DAD(hysterically): You must've guessed on ALL THE ANSWERS!!
ME: No, really, Dad, I've finished first on every test I've taken since I was ten...
DAD: LIES!!! *tears out what little hair he's got left*
ME: Oh, lord...

I woke up about Five Minutes before the time I have to leave to catch my bus this morning, and it was terrible. I hurt my brain trying to wake up so fast.

I am taking Algebra II online at the same time as going to Institute for the Arts, and I am dead. I am walking about all Zombie-Style demanding brains to eat. And by brains, I of course mean "chocolate." Of which I am consuming alarmingly copius amounts whenever I can. 

infinite_beauty and watching Blackadder and Muppet Treasure Island with her is fabulous. I am not so sure, however, why the conversations tend to turn to pedophilia. (This could be because of Tim Curry's seeming fondness for anything young and androgynous).

The Hitler Youth are at it again. Down the street live several families which tend to spawn armies of blond, blue-eyed, and alarmingly fascist little boys. 

While walking down the street, I witness:

Hitler Youth(at a brown-haired kid): KILL!!
Brunette: Eek!! I swear I'm not Jewish!
Hitler Youth: *douse the undesirable with Uzis Super Soakers*

I went to Otakon with infinite_beauty and I met lordmookie, which was awesome. Otakon was awesome! The Dread Pirate Roberts was there, and so was Captain Jack Sparrow. Everyone and their mother was dressed as Inuyasha, though, and I had to resist the urge to pull their ears.

..Am clearly a sexual deviant. The amount of Sherlock Holmes smut fic that I have been reading and writing is extraordinary, and I am certain that Arthur Conan Doyle will come haunt me, saying that I am a bad person for encouraging such (generally spectacular) tales of thoroughly godless sodomites.

An Account from The Weird Side (that is, time I spent with my father, the Prince of Odd):

Dad: Ever notice how cats are really a lot like lions?
Me: ...No. They're definitely not genetically similar or anything.

Later on, at the horrid Fourth of July party:

Dad: 'Phritie, come down here!
Me: Dad, I-
Dad: It'll be fun! You can speak to children your age!
Me: Dad, I hate them. Those girls have been mean to me for fun since I was three.
Dad: I just don't see why you can't all just get along!!

I have been roped into coaching basketball camp. It is vaguely awful, because all I do is stand up for six hours straight and keep eight-year-old girls from death and dismemberment at the hands of each other.

LITTLE CHILDREN: Waaaaah!
Me: Oh, um...dear lord.
LC: We want lunch!
Me: Its not for another hour...
LC: Is cannibalism an option?
Me: What? No! Although I am impressed that you know what that word means. Even so, you really should not pull each other's hair during the game.

Hullo! I'm back, to recount some parental insanity.

My father is utterly mad. Absolutely out of his mind.

Dad: Are you writing pornography on the internet?
Me: Why hello random question, haven't seen you here before.
Dad: Well, its because you left up a website on the computer upstairs..
Me: *now utterly frantic, because he had clearly discovered my cache of slashy goodness* That doesn't mean I wrote it.
Dad: Oh. Right then.
Me: (shrieking) Leave me and my literary perversions alone!!!!
Dad: Um, what?
Me: Nothing. Nothing at all.

The second incident:

My mother: Are you reading?
Me: What else would I be doing?
Mother: Oh, right. Are you reading that-what's the word-fan fiction?
Me: (rolling my eyes) No, not at all, Mother.
Mother: Good. I don't think that's appropriate.

Sadly, much of this depressingly hilarious state of affairs is my fault-having made the mistake of mentioning to my father that I, on occasion, have been known to dabble in that dark art known as Fanfic, he automatically assumed that this meant I wrote porn about beloved literary characters. (He is, unfortunately, somewhat right). He imparted this to my mother, who now unshakably believes that all fanfiction is utter smut.

Unfortunately, they are both half right. xD