Gitcha Summathat Suthern

This is y'all's last chance to visit Suthern's Place ,a.k.a. Kellie, this week! So, gitcherself on over there and tell'er I sentcha!



Really Wanna Know 13 Random Facts About Me? The Infamous Thursday Thirteen! -#1

I feel:: pretty damn good today

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1. I'm actually doing well in math class this semester, which is amazing since math is my life-time nemesis.
2. My obsessive-compulsive-disordered cat, Mija, not only forages my room for hair ties, but if I happen to leave my purse open, he fishes them out from there as well. I swear he's hair-tie-obsessed.
3. I feel extremely well today despite the fact that my left arm looks like I've been rolling it in broken glass. It doesn't hurt. Itches actually. I guess that means it's healing.
4. I miss David so badly that it's a physical pain. If I miss him this badly, I wonder how his wife is feeling. I wish I had her phone number. She has mine.
5. My dad is, this very minute, right outside my room in the hallway talking to himself and fighting with our new-fangled washer-dryer combo. When you have them both running and turn the lights off at night, they look like 2 little space ships sitting in the hallway because of all the lights and what'sit's on their front panels.
6. I got hit on by a random Mexican guy while browsing the women's shoe department at Wal-Mart (I'm a Wal-Mart girl. What can I say?) the other night. I don't know if it's just me, but I didn't think it was particularly odd that he was Mexican or even that he was trying to get my phone number. It was the fact that he followed me into the women's shoe department. I don't know, I felt kind of like we were standing in the lingerie section. Weird.
7. I did a double-process lightening/coloring on my hair last night. Now, it's really, really coppery red. Not all of it though. I did highlights. I'm proud of myself. I've never done highlights on myself before.
8. I am, right now, drinking New Orlean's Style coffee with Chickory mixed with Creme Brulee flavored liquid CoffeeMate. The taste is proving to be quite odd. Maybe I should have just used Dad's Folgers?
9. I did not bite my tongue last night, despite being on a handful of prescription drugs and sneezing almost continuously. Can I get an Amen?
10. This is my first time doing Thursday Thirteen. I hope I'm doing it right. Be gentle with my cherry, ok?
11. I miss my friend, Marshall, really badly. The only problem with that is that he's never really been my friend. I've been his, but I don't think he knows how to be friends with women even though he's been married and divorced. I guess that was part of the reason for the divorce? (Just guessing.)
12. I'm scared that I'm not going to pass my Spanish class. I know, pretty boring fact, right? Try entering a Spanish class where everything, and I mean everything is spoken and written in Spanish after not having any Spanish classes for about 2 years and see how you feel. There's some people in my Spanish class who speak it like they came out of their mother's womb squalling Spanish curse words. It causes me a fair bit of anxiety.
13. The last and final fact. I was the only girl in 4th grade with boobs, so I am intimately familiar with the infamous "Texas Titty Twister".

Other Thursday Thirteen-ers!

Leave your name and blog addy in Mr. Linky's Magical Widgets (and leave me a comment!) and I'll come by and read your Thursday Thirteen's(and probably leave you a very long-winded comment)!

And because I was so slow in pimpage for Suthern, here I go-a-pimpin'-again. Go see her! She has a really great blog.



Ever Had A Screaming Hissy Fit?

I feel:: really, really sleepy; my head hurts and I'm hungry

I've been terribly remiss. I must apologize to Suthern for not pimping her out here on my blog sooner. After all, that's what my ad says. Just the facts, m'am.

I've y'all haven't noticed, I have a wonderful new renter this week Suthern's Place. So, get on over there and get to know her! She's married to one of those "mad scientist" types, so you know she has to be fun!

The reason I've been silent for a few days, and this obviously has nothing to do with Suthern, is that I've gone and sliced my arm up again. Monday afternoon, after having a screaming (literally) hissy fit/panic attack (One would have to wonder as many times as I freak out while driving that it's a wonder I haven't wrecked. *knock on wood*) while driving at least 70 mph down the freeway in my car; I walked into the house straight to the bathroom and sliced the inner side of my left arm with a razor blade at least 30 times. I didn't hit the main vein even though I was going "down the street and not across it", so no need for a hospital visit. Just a lot of antiseptic wash poured on my arm while my face contorted into visages I previously had not seen. I didn't know my face could contort so wildly. It seems to me that the antiseptic wash hurt more than the cutting did, but of course that must be my distorted perception.

I felt the cutting coming on for at least a month. I have been having very strong suicidal/self-injury ideations. (Told y'all I was loony.) Seriously though, I haven't been this depressed since my last suicide attempt in '97. I am, at least, managing to go to some of my classes. A hearty achievement for me because it would be so much easier just to stay in bed, drugged and asleep.

I could say that the trigger for this cutting relapse was the fucking twat in financial aid that was such a bitch to me on Monday, but that's just an excuse. I mean, she did trigger me, but it could have been anything. I was on the edge just waiting to fall. (God, was I pissed at her. While I was driving home I swear I was homicidal. My temper got the best of me and I hate that.)

I had my therapy appt. this morning at 8am (Thank you God for giving us Starbuck's. Hallelujah.) in which my psychiatrist prescribed an additional med for me to take: Lamictal. (I've been spelling it wrong in all my other blog posts. Hooked on phonics evidently didn't work for me.) It's a mood-stabilizer and also works like an anti-depressant. I get to start that tomorrow. What's fun about Lamictal is that you have to build up your tolerance to it, otherwise you get a blistery rash all over your body (if you up the dosage too fast), so you know that's something I'm looking forward to. There's nothing like a rash to make a girl's day.

Hopefully, that won't happen. I'm going to be very careful with the dosages. So, in a few weeks, maybe I'll rise from my vegetable grave of depression and be able to function consistently. I was going to say "function normally", but as I said in a previous post, "normal" is an extremely relative word. I don't really know what "normal" is. I only know what is familiar to me.

I've got to stop looking at this computer screen now and take some migraine medicine. Let us hope that I don't sneeze since I also have to take my night-time dosage of Klonopin as well. Welcome to the world of prescription drugs.

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Must Like Cows

I feel:: strange

[sarcasm]Well, I can see that Click and Comment Monday went over like a Zepplin on fire.[/sarcasm] Maybe I should not do it every Monday and then it might be new to people again?

Thanks to Liane for letting me be her roomie last week. I really enjoyed it. I was your first renter and I was a first-time roomie!

I have some more to post, but I don't want to mar this thank-you post to Liane by cluttering it with my bullshit.


Holy Eight-Legged Exoskeleton, Batman! It's Click and Comment Monday!

I feel:: surprisingly well. I wonder how long it will last?

This morning, after only being able to sleep for about 4 hours due to the stress of this thing going on with my financial aid (I'll have to post about that later when I don't have visions of storming into my financial aid counselor's office and doing her some major bodily harm along with the requisite derogatory curse words aimed at her self-esteem. Suffice it to say, I'm pissed.)I went to the kitchen, like I normally do to make my morning coffee and feed the cats. I tried not to notice the clock on the kitchen stove with it's red numbers flashing 5:30am (I went to bed, or rather I fell asleep around 12:30-1:00am-ish).

I went to pick up the cat bowls, which by this time were all over the kitchen. I don't know how they manage to scoot them around like they do. I find them in the weirdest places, like between the fridge and the cabinet where we keep our endless supply of empty Wall-Mart sacks so that we don't have to pay money to use the expensive itty-bitty trash can liners (Y'all do that right? Tell me y'all do that and I'm not the only one who has a horde of Wal-Mart sacks.).

Anyway, I picked up their water bowl, which is quite large, actually I think it's meant to be a dog bowl but when you have 4 cats you have to have a large water bowl. So, the first thing I see (and believe you me this was a stomach churning incident especially since I had not even had my coffee or my meds yet) is this HUGE, HAIRY, DEAD SPIDER floating in their water bowl. I swear, I almost vomited (remember me= bugphobic). I looked at my next to youngest cat, Mija, who is notorious for finding things and dropping them in the water bowl and asked him, "Did you kill this and drop it in the water bowl?" only to have him look at me innocently from his position atop the kitchen counter. (Just a side note: I talk to my cats like they can understand me and like they could actually respond if they wanted to. I know it's weird, but I'm an uber-cat person. Besides, I think they understand more than they let on. *suspicious*)

So, with much shivering and being totally grossed out, I fished the spider from the bowl and put it in the trash, then thoroughly cleaned the water bowl, refilled it and put it down for them. The other three were so grateful that they immediately all gathered around the water bowl and started to drink like they hadn't drunk in days. So, my suspicions are confirmed: Mija is the culprit. He also steals my hair ties and drops them either in the water bowl or the dry food bowl alternatively. When he drops my hair ties in the dry food bowl, he only eats the food that's inside the circle of the hair tie. I have come to the conclusion that I have an obsessive compulsive disordered cat. You should see how much time he takes just to clean his paws.

Just for a reference, here's a picture of Mija (btw, I named him that when he was 6 or 7 weeks old before I could tell he was a boy. If I had known he was a boy, I wouldn't have given him a girly name. Maybe that's the source of his strange behavior-he's gender confused.):
Mija somehow squeezed himself in between the space of my slide out keyboard thingy on my desk and my desk. Don't ask me how he did it, because he weighs 15 pounds.

So, it's Click and Comment Monday again. This is a thing that was started by Cat (Living With Multiple Personalities) to celebrate bloggers and their renters. I don't have a renter yet this week, so pick someone from my list, check out their blog and leave them a comment, then click on their renter or someone on their blogroll and do the same...so on and so forth. Try to do at least five today. I've found that I've made some new friends via C&C Monday and I know you will too and plus it increases your readership!

Also, I'm using Mr. Linky's Magical Widgets (see below) so when you leave your name and blog addy be sure to leave me a comment and I'll come to your page and give you one!

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I'd Like To Repeatedly Bite My Tongue Until It Looks Like It's Been Run Over By A Cheese Grater. Thankyouverymuch.

I feel::like I could go back to bed and be Rip Van Winklet

Here's another life clue that I learned the hard way yesterday:

When you've taken so much Klonopin and Migraine medicine that you can't walk without holding onto the wall and you feel like you're moving through water-don't sneeze.

I had a sneezing fit last night (allergies) while laying in bed and bit a couple of chunks out of my tongue. I could taste the blood, but at the time, I didn't really care. This mornining, however, all of the Klonopin and Migraine medicine having gone through my system, I realize how swollen my tongue is and now every time I sneeze, I bite it inadvertently again, which causes so much pain that it forces me to invent new and more obscene curse words. It usually goes something like this: *sneeze and bite tongue* "Futhing Song of a Bith! God-dammit! (that one I have no problem with)". I'm having trouble making the "sh" and "tch" sounds due to the fact that every time I sneeze, I bite both sides of my tongue.

The next time I say I want my tongue pierced, the person nearest to me has my permission to bitch slap me.



Pimpin' Out -Veggie Style

I feel:: like I need more coffee and a visit with the Sci-fi channel

Don't forget to visit Scooter on his 9th Green. He's got a really funny post today about the differences in talent between Clay Aiken and Fergie (Actually I think they're running at about a dead heat there, except that Fergie's prettier. I'm sure that irks Clay to no end.

Soooo, my therapy appt. yesterday: My therapist is going to add another anti-depressant to the Prozac that I'm already taking; a drug called Limictal (not sure if that's spelled right) because evidently I'm in a "vegetative depressed state" and the Limictal combined with the Prozac and the Klonopin is supposed to help me rise from my vegetable grave.

I really can't argue with the "depressed state". I hate to be thought of as "vegetative", though. It's true that I have trouble functioning on a day-to-day basis. Meaning: somedays I function and some days I don't. There are, unfortunately more not functioning days than functioning days, or at least that's what it feels like. I've heard people say that it's easier to remember the bad days than the good ones. Maybe that's true and I have more good days than I am crediting myself for.

Well, yesterday after my appt. I did indeed "vegetate". I got home from my appt. at about 9:30-9:40. Speaking of which, [rant] to get to the neighborhood I live in, you have to drive down this one two-lane road with no shoulder. After you get to the end of said road,everything spreads out and a person could go wherever, but while you are on this road, there are no side streets or connecting streets. Nada. Which brings me to my bitch about that: Yesterday after my therapy appt., I was feeling like shit after being told I was in a "vegetative depressed state" and all I wanted to do was get home. I pulled up to the four-way stop which leads to the afore mentioned skinny two-lane road only to find it blocked by a cop car with all it's bells and whistles blaring and the cop standing out in the middle of the intersection directing people not to go down that way. That's all fine and dandy, except that is pretty much the only way to get to my house. So, I had to make a 20-minute drive in the complete opposite direction of my house and then wend my way through another residential area to get to the four-way stop where I turn off to go to my house. I remember as I was driving up to that intersection thinking hotly,"God-dammit, if there are any cars coming down Vimy Ridge Rd...." and there were, not only that, but also there were cars turning onto it going the opposite direction. (I wished at that moment that I had one of those HUGE clown hands so I could get out of my car, flip everybody off and they would definitely be able to see and understand what that gesture meant.) So, I was pissed that I had to go twenty minutes out of my way into an area that I was totally not familiar with only to be greeted by at least 6 dead end roads that I attempted to go down thinking that they would go all the way through to the other side of this residential area (I don't know why I thought that. Silly me. I should've known that all roads end abrubtly with a view of a trailer park or the ass end of some rich person's horse.) all the while feeling like I could stab my eyes repeatedly with sharpened pencils. Fucking people and their fucking dead end roads. [/rant]

If you haven't figured it out by now, let me tell you: I live in B.F.E (other wise known as "Bumfucked Egypt"{no offense to Egypt as a country, it's just a redneck thing}, otherwise known as "redneck-ville", or "the middle of nowhere"). I don't know if anyone uses that term except for people in small southern towns. Hence some things, well most things, people do around here don't make a lot of sense to me. Not that I'm uber-cosmopolitan by any means (I do have a pair of shit-kickers, but I only wear them when I go to the state fair because they're ideal for those instances when you misstep yourself right into a cow patty). It's just that I can't wrap my brain around some things that go on out here.

Anyway, back to the afore mentioned "vegetative" thing. It hit me pretty hard when my therapist said that. So much so that the classes I had intended on going to yesterday, I did not make. I even had a test in Spanish class and at that time yesterday, I really didn't give two shits if I missed it or not. I slept all day; I woke up at 6pm, then went back to bed at 10:30pm and slept right through until my alarm went off this morning at 7am. I don't really want to go to class today, although, I should find out what I made on my math test today that I took on Tuesday. I'm prepared to be one of two things: elated or suicidal once I get the results.

I hate to be thought of as "vegetative". It's as if my therapist painted a picture for me to see myself like I'd just gotten a helluva shot of Thorazine, drooling on myself, wearing a diaper and doing the crazy person shuffle (If you don't know what I mean by "crazy person shuffle", get a copy of 'One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest' with Jack Nicholson. You'll understand).

Well, if I am indeed going to go to class today, I'd better start getting ready. God, why does everything have to be so hard to do?

Edit: I don't think I'll be going to Math class this morning. Hopefully, I can make it to my Physical Geo. Lecture and Lab later this evening. I was going to go, but now it's too late to get ready and go.


(Read: I spent too much time on the computer and now if I try to go to class I'll be horribly late and the door will be locked; I'll have to knock on it; the whole class will be interrupted and someone will have to open the door for me and then I'll have to walk in front of the entire class while they all stare at me (no telling what people are thinking, but I always think they think they very worst things of me) until I am able to find a seat in the much-too-small desks that should only be reserved for junior high school students.) It's amazing what we (I) can justify to ourselves (myself), isn't it?




I feel:: cranky and sleepy

I'm off to my therapy appt. Jesus Jumped Up Christ On a Pogo Stick why does it have to be at 8am?
Who is not cranky this early in the morning? Now, I'm convinced my therapist is going to tell me I have some anger issues to resolve or something when all he could do to make me feel better is hand me a Starbucks Latte.



Click and Comment Monday-Start Your Week Off Right

I feel:: decent~despite the fact that it's raining and I have to go to class later

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It's been a little while since I've done this, but...
It's Click and Comment Monday!

I encourage you to click on my renter, Scooter McGavin's 9th Green, and leave him a comment!. He's a veritable cornucopoeia of information ranging from pop culture to well...anything! He gives his opinion on everything, so be prepared to be entertained!

After you click and comment on Scooter's blog, find someone on his link list, click on that blog, comment on it and so on and so on. Try to do at least 5 today. It really does increase your readership and you might make some new friends along the way!

Did you notice Mr. Linky's Magical Widgets right below? Well, when you come to my page, leave your name and link in the magical widgets thingy and I'll come to your page and leave a comment! Make sure you leave me a comment when you leave your link!



Gnats Are A Universe Unto Themselves Apparently (or I Have Fairies In My Kitchen)

I feel:: amused... now

I live with my Dad (who is 76) and we have a gnat problem. (Me= bugphobic) So, I was thinking about ways to solve it for a few days and one morning just after I woke up, I found Dad sitting in his usual place, the recliner, doing his usual thing, the crossword puzzle out of that day's paper. So, I stopped to talk to him for a minute about our gnat problem.

Let me just say first a little about my dad's habits regarding the opening and closing of windows and doors. We keep the air conditioner set on 72 or 73 degrees all the time, yet my dad will open his bedroom window wide enough for a grown person to climb out of it, open the kitchen window over the sink, open the back door in the morning (that's the side of the house that gets all of the sun pretty much all day until about 4pm or so, then it hits the front of the house) and slide up the glass window that is over the window screen on the storm door that we have which leads out into the back yard. So, just to set the record straight- every day, all day, while the air conditioner is running my dad has three windows open on the side of the house that gets most of the heat.

Let me just ask y'all this: When you were growing up, did you ever hear your parents say things like, "Shut the door! We are not trying to air condition the entire neighborhood!" or "You can either come in or out! You're letting the bugs in!" or "Shut the door! You weren't raised in barn!" I heard all of these in my childhood and many more. As many as my parents' imaginations could come up with. Add to this that when Dad and I first moved into this house, he nagged me forever like a mosquito in my ear about getting curtains for the windows so that the house wouldn't be so hot in the summer and not so cold in the winter (He wanted the really thick kind of curtains. The kind that, when you close them, you're ushered into a kind of eerie darkness during the day and at night, utter darkness.). Even after I got the curtains and hung them all, (I did it without a drill. I had to hand screw the anchors and screws into the walls. Only when I was on the last set of curtains and I was so frustrated that my hands were shaking nearly uncontrollably did I hear Dad say, "Hey, do you want to use my drill?" Sometimes, I think he gets a perverse amusement out of seeing me completely and utterly frustrated.) he was still complaining about the fact that the kitchen window and the window on the back door had no curtains. He bitched about that for at least the first 6 months we lived here.

Keeping in mind all of the previously said, here is the nearly word-for-word conversation I had with my dad a couple of days ago about our gnat problem:

Me: "Hey Dad, I was thinking about how to fix our gnat problem."
Him: (Looks up from his crossword unexpectantly) "Oh, really?"
Me: (proceeding with caution) "I've been noticing that you always open the kitchen window and the window on the back door every day and keep them open all day. I was thinking that if they were closed, we wouldn't have this gnat problem."
Him: (Going back to his crossword and not looking at me.) "That doesn't have anything to do with our gnat problem."
Me:(trying unsuccessfully not to be a bit sarcastic) "So, where do you suppose they come from?"
Him: "Gnats don't come from anywhere. They create themselves."
Me: (Standing in front of his recliner in utter disbelief,stuttering,eyebrows once again disappearing into hairline,looking at Dad like he's fallen completely off his rocker, while trying very hard not to laugh): "Y..You..re..(clearing throat) really, really believe that?"
Him: (Looking up again from his crossword,over the top of his trifocal glasses, in all seriousness.) "Yes."
Me: (releasing a very long,very theatrical sigh complete with my patented defeated-looking sagging of shoulders) "Ooookaay, then."

At this point, all I could do was walk away into the kitchen to start making coffee and take my morning meds in hopes that the combination of Prozac, Klonopin and caffeine would somehow wake me from this surreal conversation I had just had. A few minutes later and while I was staring absently at the coffee maker wishing that the coffee was already done, I hear Dad yell from his recliner, "I have to have fresh air!" So, I yell back nonchalantly, "Then go outside."

This is by far the weirdest conversation I have ever had with my Dad. This surpasses even the one when he was doped up in the ER, having broken the large bone in his thigh due to a drunken fall, when he told me that my grandmother (his mother) had run off to join the circus to become a "hoochie coochie" dancer when she was 17, leaving my dad with her parents to raise. Pain meds are quite the soothsaying drug.

Is it just me, or do y'all have weird-ass conversations with your parents like that?

Just to show y'all I'm not crazy.
University of Kentucky Entomology




I feel:: better than I did yesterday

A new poem I wrote the day before yesterday:

~Peel the flesh from the bone
layer by layer
until there is nothing
blood, muscle and bone

I see me there on a cold slab
raw meat
Not knowing what Misery has in store for me
I can only lay paralyzed
waiting for the next cut
the next needle
or evisceration
Misery has created a this hellish existence especially for me.
My wounds heal and my skin grows back
only to be slowly,
peeled off
again and again
for Misery's pleasure

I miss David so much. ~

I meant to post this yesterday. It was a particularly bad day. I didn't leave the house or even go to class. I doped myself up on Klonopin and stayed numb all day and most of the night. I feel somewhat better today because I did manage last night to complete a big assignment for my Spanish class. I had to write a paper, which is, to say the very least a daunting task, considering I haven't had any Spanish classes for about 2 years. I think I did pretty well on it, though. I wrote it late/early this morning; like 1 or 2am. I had to wait for the Klonopin fog to wear off.

Today's "Oh Shit" #1= I forgot to go to therapy this morning. My time was changed from 11am on Wednesdays to 8am on Wednesdays. I told my therapist I would try to make it at that time, but I couldn't make any guarantees and I also told him that I'm so not a morning person, so he shouldn't be surprised if I'm uber-cranky. It's only fair to give him that warning. I'm cranky until I've had a couple of cups of very strong coffee.

So to counter with something positive: I've discovered that I like New Orleans' style coffee with chickory. It's my new favorite coffee. It has a bit of a different tang to it like everything and everyone does that comes from New Orleans.

I really hope today will be a good day. It feels that way right now, but I might be editing this later with more "Oh Shit" things that I either forgot to do or with something that I fucked up.



Everything Is Right With The World (For Now, Anyway)

I feel:: like I need more coffee

I got my computer back the day before yesterday. I've just been too tired to post about it. I feel like all I do now is study and it's only just past the 2nd week of school (told you I'd be bitching about it by the 2nd week).

So, anyway, here's what happened:
One day, I turned it one and the screen made this frying-bacon-scary sound and then it went completely black. So, I took it to The-You-Know-Who-Squad and they told me that the backlight had gone out and that it would have to be sent off for service. Not only that, but also the guy I was talking to told me that it would take 3 weeks for me to get it back. At that, I think I raised my eyebrows so high that they disappeared into my hairline, my voice got all high and squeaky and any attempt to be cool flew right out the doors of Best Buy. I opened my mouth and what came out sounded like a 5-year old being sent to bed early. I squeaked,"You're kidding me! 3 Weeks?! I need that computer for school!".Saying that I needed it for school was a handy excuse for me being so freaked out. At least I could justify it to myself. I don't know how convinced Mr. Computer guy was. (This particular situation reminds me, now that I think about it, about another time when I totally freaked out over getting a key made at Wal-Mart. They made the wrong key (it was for my apartment) and I had to take it back only to be told by Mr. I'm-much-too-stoned-to-give-a-shit that I definitely had not purchased that key at that store. The only major problem with that, other than the fact that I had the receipt in my hand, was that at that time I had just quit smoking and was at that moment as strung out from the lack of nicotine as a person can be. I don't remember exactly what happened after that, but according to my friend, Alisha, who was with me, I threatened the stoner guy behind the counter with some sort of bodily violence which included damage to his family jewels. The result: I got a key that was made right and immediately after that, I squealed tires off to the nearest gas station to buy a pack of Camel Wides.)

After my over-obvious incredulity, and the-not-so-sly looks at my cleavage by Mr. Computer Guy, he told me that he would get the work expedited (Just for me. Isn't that nice? Who says boobs don't come in handy? I just never thought they would be my allies in getting my computer fixed faster than it would have been. Those Mr. Computer-type-guys have never really given me a second look. Or maybe they're just more sneaky than Mr. Average Joe.) Anyway, when I got it back last night, it turns out, according to another guy on the You-Know-Who-Squad that the Inverter had to be completely replaced. Thank God for warranties.

Well, I'm back now. Everyone can breathe a collective sigh of relief. Me especially, since I felt like a part of my body had been sawed off when I had to leave my computer at the store to be sent off for service and then be without it for the subsequent 10 or so days. Yes, I'm a wussy. I can't live without my computer. So there.



Sans Computer and I Can't Function. What Does That Say About Me?

Just in case anyone was wondering why I haven't posted for awhile...
The backlight on my brand new laptop went out the day school started, which was last Monday. It's been in service since then. I'm supposed to get it back on the 9th of Sept. So, let's hope the Geek Squad told me the truth.

Thanks so much for all the kind comments from my previous post. I really do appreciate them so much. I'm not going to be blogging probably at all until I get my computer back. It's just such a pain in the ass to do it at school. *bitchbitchmoanmoan* I just want my laptop back. It's my baby.