So I had LASIK last Friday, and til this Saturday, I can't work out. So that means more time for me to study, right? And am I studying? Nooooo. Today is Day 4, post-op for LASIK and I was supposed to go see my optometrist...note the verb "was." Problem is, when I tried to start my car, it.wouldn't.start. Plus when I entered my car, it was COOL. In the heat of summer. What in blazes is going on? Needless to say, I have not been a happy camper ever since, kinda sulking my way through the day after freaking out. A friend said I could call my car insurance's 24-hour whatever service, and my husband said I could call a cab to get to the doctor's or get my car jumpstarted to get to the mechanic, but that just all seems so STRESSFUL and uncertain. Good thing this all happened in our backyard/parking lot. Aaaargh.
And yesterday, I was obsessing over my online name that would go with my planned logos through a brilliant student designer: Therese Totten or Trissa Totten? I went from one to the other CONSTANTLY, the WHOLE day. I even looked at this name site to figure out what name was more me, and yet they're BOTH me. So I went with Therese: more formal, more known. I'll figure out Trissa later. And I registered that online address, just in case.
So with that yesterday and now my car not starting today, it has been a crappy, sulky week. The weather even agrees: it's been raining on and off since Sunday: good for the plants, crappy for my mood and industriousness. I usually eat at times likes these, and I admit I did, but I can do something else not as damaging to my waistline (but to my wallet instead, ulp): online shopping: but they were admittedly on my wishlist already, anyway, so there. I still couldn't work, so I figured on journaling, hence why I am here. Plus my flow hasn't dropped: I am way overdue: maybe because of all the stress? I dunno, but the fact that it's still waiting hasn't helped.
And let me tell you, those drops I have to use on my eyes? I have 3-4: Durezol (steroidal/anti-inflammatory), Zymaxid (antibiotic), and Optive/Optive Refresh (artificial tears). They ALL give me these weird bitter aftertastes at the back of my throat, not to mention a ton of eye gunk on my lashes and around my eyes! I was hoping to tell my doctor that today, but oh well. I just hope that these drops will be worth it, and I'm doing it all right, and my corneas will behave, and won't revert (like my cousin's did, yikes).
So what to do now? Continue being lazy and maybe pop a video in, or try and work coz that's what I'm home for, dammit? This writing/unloading exercise is making me feel a bit less bottled up/stressed, at least, so we'll see.
Showing posts with label complaints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label complaints. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Prude-speak#1
Mantra: no expletives, no expletives, no expletives.
But I'm so tempted to junk that mantra. Nonononono. But really, today (fine, the latter half of the day) was just extremely trying.
I'm thankful to Q, though, for providing us with Sleater-Kinney songs to download! :) However, that was before the day turned sour.
It all started when traffic was at a standstill for a stupid, drawn-out San Miguel Oktoberfest parade, complete with dancers, drummers, San Miguel Corp. reps waving from semi-vans, basketball players and Efren Bata-Reyes included, and GET THIS: a costumed pig and chicken, looking happy, waving too. Filipinos know very well that San Miguel has as one of its major components, besides beer, meat products, or in my view, massacre by-products. And the waving pig and chicken create AN ILLUSION of HAPPY ANIMALS, when they're NOT! People are thus fooled into believing that meat comes in plastic/styrofoam packages. They are absolved of all violence, when in fact, they directly support and propagate it! Would the cow happily moo when she is sent to slaughter, or when she is kept pregnant so people can have cow's milk, meant for THEIR babies, which incidentally, if female, grow up to be raped like their mothers, or if male, end up as choice meat. Nonetheless, it all boils down to THEIR ALL BEING KILLED, ANYWAY. So smile away.
That was bad enough. Despite that time-consuming, inconsiderate traffic jam, my friends, C and M, and I made it to the movie (Step Up), even with time to spare to go to the loo and see some trailers! For those who said it was nice, I didn't find anything special with it, other than regretting I stopped ballet when I was 8, plus thinking, what if I had pursued my musical roots and applied to maybe UP College of Music, majoring in voice? But I didn't.
Afterwards, M felt the need to check out the shops, and when she asked me my opinion on a top, I bluntly told her not to get it if the only reason she wanted to buy it was to buy something. She didn't. C reminded me M's having a date with her beau on Saturday, so she was in a dither to buy something new. My point is, if you don't need something, or don't really WANT it, why buy it? Plus the boyfriend she's with? They seem to be going nowhere: the guy seems to have no drive to achieve anything. Seriously. So where's the future in that??? Then they both flirt with other people! In her case, she enjoys the attention heaped on her, so to me, what's the point in having a relationship?!?!?! But they're OK with their illusion, so fine. Now what clinched getting my goat was when she asked C and me if she should ask her Mom if she can go with him out of town, despite having a dinner with him and his family(!) that night. C and I were uneasy, and C was very careful to reserve her opinions, but given my fatigue and progressively worsening mood, I told her I didn't think it would be wise to go out with him TWICE in one day, one being out of town, to boot. C reminded her it is customary for her to visit her grandparents on that day, but she said she can move it. For my part, I reminded her of propriety: spending a WHOLE DAY (extending to the evening!) won't look too good on her good girl image. Really. She protested she'd have to do it one of these days, be "independent." And I wanted to shout at her that boy, is her concept of freedom screwed or WHAT? Peter Parker's Uncle Ben nailed it on the head when he said, "with great freedom comes great responsibility." She seems not to see this, forgetting that everything she has comes from and is paid for by her family's money and hard work: her laundry and ironing, her food, her gym membership and other activities, her tuition, her car and the gasoline it needs--in short, EVERYTHING. And at the rate they're going, I don't think her boyfriend's even remotely thinking of providing for such things. And she talks about freedom? Well, think of that, girlie, plus you're already 21.
Call me paranoid, anal, a shrew for thinking about these already, but I do. I see all amorous relationships as a building up, not building down. Hence, I don't believe in flings. I view risks very suspiciously, and quite fearfully. So yes, I've been in a dry spell for a long time now, but I prefer not to compromise. Ironically, though, that is the risk I will have to take.
But I'm so tempted to junk that mantra. Nonononono. But really, today (fine, the latter half of the day) was just extremely trying.
I'm thankful to Q, though, for providing us with Sleater-Kinney songs to download! :) However, that was before the day turned sour.
It all started when traffic was at a standstill for a stupid, drawn-out San Miguel Oktoberfest parade, complete with dancers, drummers, San Miguel Corp. reps waving from semi-vans, basketball players and Efren Bata-Reyes included, and GET THIS: a costumed pig and chicken, looking happy, waving too. Filipinos know very well that San Miguel has as one of its major components, besides beer, meat products, or in my view, massacre by-products. And the waving pig and chicken create AN ILLUSION of HAPPY ANIMALS, when they're NOT! People are thus fooled into believing that meat comes in plastic/styrofoam packages. They are absolved of all violence, when in fact, they directly support and propagate it! Would the cow happily moo when she is sent to slaughter, or when she is kept pregnant so people can have cow's milk, meant for THEIR babies, which incidentally, if female, grow up to be raped like their mothers, or if male, end up as choice meat. Nonetheless, it all boils down to THEIR ALL BEING KILLED, ANYWAY. So smile away.
That was bad enough. Despite that time-consuming, inconsiderate traffic jam, my friends, C and M, and I made it to the movie (Step Up), even with time to spare to go to the loo and see some trailers! For those who said it was nice, I didn't find anything special with it, other than regretting I stopped ballet when I was 8, plus thinking, what if I had pursued my musical roots and applied to maybe UP College of Music, majoring in voice? But I didn't.
Afterwards, M felt the need to check out the shops, and when she asked me my opinion on a top, I bluntly told her not to get it if the only reason she wanted to buy it was to buy something. She didn't. C reminded me M's having a date with her beau on Saturday, so she was in a dither to buy something new. My point is, if you don't need something, or don't really WANT it, why buy it? Plus the boyfriend she's with? They seem to be going nowhere: the guy seems to have no drive to achieve anything. Seriously. So where's the future in that??? Then they both flirt with other people! In her case, she enjoys the attention heaped on her, so to me, what's the point in having a relationship?!?!?! But they're OK with their illusion, so fine. Now what clinched getting my goat was when she asked C and me if she should ask her Mom if she can go with him out of town, despite having a dinner with him and his family(!) that night. C and I were uneasy, and C was very careful to reserve her opinions, but given my fatigue and progressively worsening mood, I told her I didn't think it would be wise to go out with him TWICE in one day, one being out of town, to boot. C reminded her it is customary for her to visit her grandparents on that day, but she said she can move it. For my part, I reminded her of propriety: spending a WHOLE DAY (extending to the evening!) won't look too good on her good girl image. Really. She protested she'd have to do it one of these days, be "independent." And I wanted to shout at her that boy, is her concept of freedom screwed or WHAT? Peter Parker's Uncle Ben nailed it on the head when he said, "with great freedom comes great responsibility." She seems not to see this, forgetting that everything she has comes from and is paid for by her family's money and hard work: her laundry and ironing, her food, her gym membership and other activities, her tuition, her car and the gasoline it needs--in short, EVERYTHING. And at the rate they're going, I don't think her boyfriend's even remotely thinking of providing for such things. And she talks about freedom? Well, think of that, girlie, plus you're already 21.
Call me paranoid, anal, a shrew for thinking about these already, but I do. I see all amorous relationships as a building up, not building down. Hence, I don't believe in flings. I view risks very suspiciously, and quite fearfully. So yes, I've been in a dry spell for a long time now, but I prefer not to compromise. Ironically, though, that is the risk I will have to take.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Hairy Hostility
Who says I have to go to the gym every day?
Who says that the only way to take care of my health is to lift iron and cycle endlessly without going anywhere?
I say no longer.
I say enough.
I say to take another road, from time to time. So I did.
When my sanctuary becomes a mindless automaton of a place, there is a certain alarm to that, so I dashed all gym plans...and went to the salon. I needed a change of scenery, man.
I damn my trainer for a short stint in hell as he said I bloated over. Well, you won't understand 'til you become a woman, which is never, BOY. And even if I don't stuff myself to bursting but still look like I did, well, dammit, I GIVE UP. Your opinion isn't my end-all and be-all, nor will I let it come close.
So now I am an auburn-streaked goddess, with tended feet and polished nails. See me dazzle. Hear me roar.
Who says that the only way to take care of my health is to lift iron and cycle endlessly without going anywhere?
I say no longer.
I say enough.
I say to take another road, from time to time. So I did.
When my sanctuary becomes a mindless automaton of a place, there is a certain alarm to that, so I dashed all gym plans...and went to the salon. I needed a change of scenery, man.
I damn my trainer for a short stint in hell as he said I bloated over. Well, you won't understand 'til you become a woman, which is never, BOY. And even if I don't stuff myself to bursting but still look like I did, well, dammit, I GIVE UP. Your opinion isn't my end-all and be-all, nor will I let it come close.
So now I am an auburn-streaked goddess, with tended feet and polished nails. See me dazzle. Hear me roar.
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