i had a plan to go to indiana with erin.
open road.
adventure.
for the past week i've woken in the morning with a headache.
"huh, weird" was about the extent of attention i paid the situation.
well, i made it as far as madison, where, after we stopped and a bit of alcohol was consumed,
mad crazy sickness ensued.
horrible, worse-than-hungover sickness.
horrible.
still sick in the morning...no more adventure for me.
had to call a madison friend to rescue me and allow me to sleep on their sofa.
tracy (madison friend) scored major friend karma points.
i, deserting erin, lost major friend karma points.
slept all day.
all day.
about 8 hours.
ate a teeny bit. took headache medicine.
john quickly managed to get the day off (somehow, with the awesome help of my mom and the kindness of his co-workers and boss) and came down to rescue me, take me home.
ate almost a real (tiny) meal.
decide to stay the night with greg and tracy. because they rule.
grocery shopping with tracy!! (insert feelings of fun here)
pick up real dinner, start to feel funny (horrible) again.
"huh, weird"
get back to appartment, do not eat dinner.
tracy tidys up the house. cleans the bathroom.
head is exploding.
get to fully examine tracys clean toilet close-up. yay.
(insert feelings of super bad friend + bad guest here)
talk to mom. says dad had migraine, too.
-"too"?
oh, yeah, migraine.
duh.
somehow, instead of making me sleep on the fire escape, they pampered us, and let us sleep under their super awesome star projector.
(most. fucking. awesome. thing. ever.)
wake up next morning.
not feeling horrible. (surely it was star projector cure)
got to go to dane county farm market. (insert feelings of hell yes! here)
head home, the long way.
many stops.
home.
*sigh*
(alternative title: "you have problems with migraines. they are getting worse and interfering with your life. figure it out, dummy.")
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
walking revolution
the other night i dyed my hair purple.
(and, accidentally, the microwave pink. but that is another story for another time)
yesterday, upon seeing my plummy locks, my mom asked, "aren't you getting too old for that sort of thing?"
as a million different responses raced through my mind, i simply blurted out an abrupt "no".
-though in the back of my mind i kept repeating the question...
"am i??"
now today a friend whisked a cyndi lauper video my way, and i felt myself breathe a sigh of relief.
i'm only 29.
she's 57.
and apparently she's not too old for that sort of thing.
sometimes when i feel a bit stale i dye my hair. or cut my hair. or get my intoxicated best buddy to shave half my head.
and then i feel a bit better.
somehow, this time this particular turn of events is not only working to pull me from my little funk, but i feel almost inspired.
to to what, i don't know.
but something.
dammit.
why is it that when we're young we are allowed to experiment, be crazy, take risks...but after a certain point we are supposed to fall in line?
what is the point of experimentation if you're just going to end up going the exact same route as everyone else?
why bother?
and why should we ever stop?
what if i never figure out what i want to do, or hell, even who i really am?
isn't that ok?
can't i be an old lady with pink hair if i choose to?
do i have to get a job that i hate and wear button-down shirts with flowers on them and pleated khakis every day? watch daytime tv and fantasize about the guy who works at the post office?
i don't want to.
maybe not ever.
and i don't really care if the ladies at the grocery store or coffee shop or wherever don't agree with the way i live.
hell, i probably wouldn't want ther life, either.
and, quite frankly, i think they're only upset because they're jealous.
most people have voluntarily surrendered their freedom. they've built themselves a safe and socially accepted fortress rigidly guarded by their fears.
people get so wrapped up in what they think others think of them that they lose themselves.
i, personally, think it is FAR more shameful to waste the precious life your given doing what's expected, instead of what you love.
it's good to be foolish.
it's even good to completely fail.
it's like that line from harold and maude "everyone has the right to make an ass out of themselves. You just can't let the world judge you too much"
you never know what the future holds.
you aren't even guaranteed there IS a future.
hell, i could get hit by a car crossing the street the next time i go out.
or i could drop dead from a burst brain aneurysm before i even finish typing the next word.
you just never know...
so i'll take my chances today.
right now.
while i know that i am alive.
i'll be alive...
(and, accidentally, the microwave pink. but that is another story for another time)
yesterday, upon seeing my plummy locks, my mom asked, "aren't you getting too old for that sort of thing?"
as a million different responses raced through my mind, i simply blurted out an abrupt "no".
-though in the back of my mind i kept repeating the question...
"am i??"
now today a friend whisked a cyndi lauper video my way, and i felt myself breathe a sigh of relief.
i'm only 29.
she's 57.
and apparently she's not too old for that sort of thing.
sometimes when i feel a bit stale i dye my hair. or cut my hair. or get my intoxicated best buddy to shave half my head.
and then i feel a bit better.
somehow, this time this particular turn of events is not only working to pull me from my little funk, but i feel almost inspired.
to to what, i don't know.
but something.
dammit.
why is it that when we're young we are allowed to experiment, be crazy, take risks...but after a certain point we are supposed to fall in line?
what is the point of experimentation if you're just going to end up going the exact same route as everyone else?
why bother?
and why should we ever stop?
what if i never figure out what i want to do, or hell, even who i really am?
isn't that ok?
can't i be an old lady with pink hair if i choose to?
do i have to get a job that i hate and wear button-down shirts with flowers on them and pleated khakis every day? watch daytime tv and fantasize about the guy who works at the post office?
i don't want to.
maybe not ever.
and i don't really care if the ladies at the grocery store or coffee shop or wherever don't agree with the way i live.
hell, i probably wouldn't want ther life, either.
and, quite frankly, i think they're only upset because they're jealous.
most people have voluntarily surrendered their freedom. they've built themselves a safe and socially accepted fortress rigidly guarded by their fears.
people get so wrapped up in what they think others think of them that they lose themselves.
i, personally, think it is FAR more shameful to waste the precious life your given doing what's expected, instead of what you love.
it's good to be foolish.
it's even good to completely fail.
it's like that line from harold and maude "everyone has the right to make an ass out of themselves. You just can't let the world judge you too much"
you never know what the future holds.
you aren't even guaranteed there IS a future.
hell, i could get hit by a car crossing the street the next time i go out.
or i could drop dead from a burst brain aneurysm before i even finish typing the next word.
you just never know...
so i'll take my chances today.
right now.
while i know that i am alive.
i'll be alive...
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