hypochondria

So, I'm pretty sure I'm dying. This happens a lot.


Not the dying part, the being convinced that I am part.


Frequent pounding headaches, general confusion, and not-being-able-to-focus?
Brain tumor.

Being generally thirsty all the time?
Diabetes.

Feel like there's a bunch of ants crawling all over your legs?
Restless Leg Syndrome.

WebMD is not necessarily the best place to go for a medical diagnosis. They have this handy-dandy Symptom Checker thing that doesn't really help people who jump to the worst conclusion, like me.
You put in all of your symptoms, and it tells you all of the illnesses or diseases you could possibly have...and there are tons of really scary ones.

So here I am, with a few random symptoms, and I'm kinda freaking out. I mean, any of these things alone wouldn't be that big of a deal, but together...?

Right now, I have strange rash on the front of my neck (possible allegric reaction to...something), dry, flaky, itchy skin on the back of my neck (my shampoo could be irritating it...), a mole on my head that inexplicably starting bleeding the other day (maybe it wasn't a mole, it was a scab happened to fall off....a scab that's been there for years....), a bad cold/ sinus infection type thing (everyone gets those...), and generally ick-ness.

Put these things into WebMD....

I could have anything from Lyme Disease to Schizophrenia (???) to Viral Pharyngitis to Hypoglycemia....the list goes on.

And of course, I have all of them. I know it.

schooling, driving, and other mundane occurances.

College starts in three weeks. College, as in real, legit college. Not riding a bus from my high school to a community college where I hang out with other high-schoolers taking college classes with college professors but basically just fooling ourselves into thinking we are superior to the average teenager. (Well, we are superior...but you get my point).

Technically I'll be starting as a junior because I've already got my Associate's, but I have to stay for three years to fit the classes for my major in.

Graphic Design. That means I get to call myself an official artist. And I'll probably end up with no job, having to find a way to pay off my student loans anyway.

At least I won't have to worry about homework.

I'm not gonna be living on campus because it's another $7k and I live five minutes away, so what's the point? Yeah, I'll miss some of the college experience that way, but I've already decided not to get drunk and be ridiculous. Plus, if I really want to spend the night in one of my friend's dorm rooms, it's totally allowed.

Oh, and I'm minoring in Music. For fun.
I'm just glad I'll finally get to take a Piano class. It's almost sad how excited I am for that.

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For some reason I've found myself driving a lot recently. Not for long distances, but nevertheless, driving. Mostly to and from the same few places. Sadly, multiple short trips are hell on my gas mileage. I mean, Erik is an eighteen year old car, he tires easily.

Plus I never put more than twenty bucks of gas in the tank at a time. Probably would be better to fill him up all the way so it would last longer...most likely it would save money in the long run, too.

I don't think my car's had a full tank of gas since I bought him. What a sad existence for him.

But any and all money I happen to obtain recently has gone straight into my laptop-for-college fund. Which is still sadly $70 short. So Erik will have to survive for a few more weeks on gas vapors until I get my computer or a job.

Neither one is looking good at this point.

Oh, and here's Erik. I don't think I ever even mentioned what kind of car he was....

1994 Mitsubishi Eclipse...the epitome of riding in style.

Not a great picture, but you get the idea. 


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I've been trying to get a job this summer. And by trying I mean "being very picky about where I apply because I refuse to work in fast food and I would prefer to not have to deal with annoying customers all day so I'll only apply to three places and then when they don't call me, give up".

You know what the perfect job would be? Getting paid to slack off.

Can you imagine the billions of dollars I would be swimming in right now? Not to mention the job security. There will always be a need for slackers. How else would the brain surgeons and lawyers get to their mandatory ego quotient? They've got to be better than someone.
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In other news, another of my friends has decided to join the wonderful world of blogging, and she's pretty awesome. So go read her stuff. Like now.


Oh yeah, have a link--> CLICK FOR AWESOME

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Well, this was a lovely, informative post. Too boring? I'm sorry. Would this picture help?

No? Really? After all the work I went through to get it for you?!


Ungrateful. That's what you are.

spinning in circles solves everything.

Except, of course, feeling dizzy.


Ignore that title. It's not relevant in the least.

I've spent a good portion of my summer not going to bed until 3am and waking up around noon. The few days I get up earlier (by accident or because my mom won't stop yelling at me to get up until I do), I get pretty excited because

BREAKFAST.

I don't eat breakfast that often. During the school year I was always waking up just in time to run to the bus and then get on another one to go to Central for all my important classes so breakfast just didn't work out for me.
Plus on weekends and during the summer there's a rule in our house that breakfast ends at 11am so if you get up late you have to just skip it and eat lunch.

That's not cool with me because I like breakfast. So much so that I will gladly have breakfast for dinner because why not? Cereal is amazing a 9pm.

To get around this awful rule I sometimes make toast and then put it together like a sandwich so my mom thinks I'm being responsible and eating lunch like a good kid because it's 2pm and wayyy past breakfast time but the joke's on you lady, because I'm having breakfast and there's nothing you can do about it.

And then there are the days when I wake up late, but my mom's out shopping or something so Christmas comes early for me I guess and I get to have cereal even though it's not allowed and now I feel all rebellious and junk like a proper teenager should be (I don't get enough opportunities to be rebellious and it's sad because I turn 18 on Monday and I haven't gotten all of my selfish immaturity out yet). So here I am, getting all excited because we have Quisp and I love that cereal and we hardly ever have it (apparently it's getting discontinued?!) so another Christmas in July present I guess and then...

Whole day ruined. That's just depressing.


I feel like I just spent a long time ranting in run-on sentences...but what do I care? I don't have to worry about proper English anymore because all I'll be taking in college is art classes from now on anyway (except that one Spanish class, but I'm choosing to ignore that and hope it will go away) and I couldn't care less about proper grammar plus I feel like 'this is how my mind works': continuously and without pausing for punctuation just switching from one topic to the next so it makes it easier if I just type like this too, don't you think?


I've forgotten just what I was trying to say in the first place. I've gotten way too good at babbling lately. Sorry.


Enjoy the rest of your day, internet friends.

family = people who take your stuff and expect you to be okay with it.

My sister seems to think that asking me something on Facebook chat instead of face-to-face is safer.
She also has horrible grammar and spelling...

my sister: hey....

me: what

her: stephen needs his car tonight after all so can I PLEASE use yours??

I need to leave for workkk

me: hahahahahahahahaha

her: what would you need it for between now and 830?????

me: anything I want, DUH. that's the point of a car.

her: I really need the money! plus i cant find someone in 20 minutes to cover my shift

me: this is fun

her: you're not funny!

i can't be late

me: if you hurt Erik I will kill you.

her: don't make me come down there

me: 

her: erik???

you named your car erik???

goondess

me: for a good reason. don't judge him.

her: thanks sissy you da best

me: I hate you.

HATE.

her: no you don't 

u loooooove me

me: go away.

her: as you should buttface.

byeeee

me: rude. 

don't talk to me.

the Last Time Lord

If you don't watch Doctor Who, you should. There are no words to describe how awesome it is. I only recently started watching, so I had about six seasons to catch up on. I've seen different enemies, different companions, and different sonic screwdrivers; but none of the changes mattered to me all that much. Except when David Tennant handed over the role of the Doctor to Matt Smith . . .


"David Tennant was the Tenth in a long line of Doctors, and considered by many to be the greatest Doctor there has ever been. But you may ask, doctor who? Who is this man (Timelord, actually) who travels through space and time in a blue box, saving the universe? Why should I miss him? Well, I'll tell you. 

This was someone who wore a blue/brown pinstripe suit and trainers, along with a sand-colored trenchcoat. He sometimes wore glasses, but he didn't need them; he just thought they made him look a bit clever. He loved little shops, snow, and hated pears. He liked to say the french word "Allons-y", and the Italian phrase "Molto bene". He had such an ego, but for really excellent reasons. He had great hair, really great hair. He was always running, to and from danger, and he was definitely a little bit foxy. He talked, oh, all the time he talked, but he never really said anything. He was so very sad, so very broken, and so very alone.

He was frightening; he was terrible, vengeful, merciless, unstoppable, powerful, dangerous, and if he was allowed to go too far there was no telling what he was capable of. . . but he was also beautiful, brilliant, amazing, fantastic, geeky, passionate, and wonderful, and he has done many wonderful and terrible things. He has saved the universe countless times. Nobody ever said thank you but once, and he never asked them to. 

He was my Doctor. My very first Doctor. And he is gone. After the last night of 2009 and the first morning of 2010, he was replaced. Replaced by a new Doctor. An Eleventh Doctor. Who knows, I may grow to like this new Doctor. . . . but I love my Doctor, and I'm going to miss him. I'm going to miss him very much."


If you are not a fan of the show, this may seem a bit over-dramatic . . .but you just don't understand : P


I didn't write this . . . I got it from a Doctor Who fan site, but I couldn't have said it any better myself. David Tennant will always be the Doctor in my eyes, no matter how many times he regenerates in the series from now on. David Tennant is the Doctor. Period.

the real world

Not really looking forward to it, to be honest.


Graduating twice a few weeks ago was about as ridiculous as it sounds.

The one for the community college could not have been more boring if it tried . . . it didn't help that Phoebe spent the time playing games on her phone and I was left to look on in envy (I was also trying to think of a way to sleep without it being obvious).

Thankfully my high school one went by a lot faster.

But of course, as with any other even-slightly-ceremonious event in life, my mom had to take a billion pictures of me in my cap and gown.

Take one with your sisters! 


Now with your brothers! 


Get your grandparents over here for a picture! 


I need someone to take a picture of you with me and your dad! 


Now let's get one of you with your diploma!


And one with your hat off! 


You know what? Let's go down the street to Kroger and completely humiliate you by making you pose in that gazebo they have out front!!!


I think I should only be made to pose for a picture about once a year. Seriously, the only thing different in all these pictures we have of me this year are the clothes I'm wearing. And those could be photoshopped if we needed them to be.

Anywhoo, I shall shortly be entering the world of college with my fancy Associate of Arts and Sciences degree for the express purpose of taking all the art-related classes ever invented to get my Graphic Design degree and the promise of maybe designing websites/book covers/t-shirts
OR
having nowhere to go, thereby becoming another of those hobos hanging out near Kohl's.

I'll probably be wearing this expression:

that's my sister . . . you can tell she was more excited about this picture than I was.

the end of the world

A while back I made a facebook event for  the year 2013. I remembered it today and went to check on it, only to discover that only 4,549 people are attending...I guess we'll be able to spread out a bit if the world's gonna be that empty. 


But then I noticed something very worrying...

okay, everything looks fine from here, but look closer.

it's bad enough that people would chose "maybe attending" life after the "end of the world", but for there to be exactly six-hundred sixty six of them? really?

that's just tempting fate.

don't ask me, I was asleep.

(this is the dream I had last night....my commentary will be in blue)


As I was leaving school, Beverly came up beside me.


"Hey, do you want to go to that new smoothie place down the road?"


I had never heard of it but said, "Sure," anyway.


We got there and parked in what looked like my church's parking lot (for some reason I was driving the Heffalump...). I also noticed that all the plants outside were wiggling and acting strangely...but I couldn't be bothered about that, there were smoothies to be had!


When we walked into my "church" it was actually some guy's house (apparently he was running a successful smoothie business from his kitchen). Inside we met Rachel, Nathan, Keenan, and for some reason...my old Spanish professor Mrs. Killian.


While we all picked out the ingredients and flavors we wanted in our smoothies, the owner's family came home and he told us to wait while he made their dinner. Several hours later (why did we wait that long?!), we finally got our smoothies and headed on our way.


It was dark at this point, and for some reason we were now in the back parking lot of my high school (which is kind of a creepy place at night). As soon as we walked outside, my band director Mr. Webb came running up, screaming frantically.


"GUYS! The grass, the trees, all the plants out here....they're coming to life! It's like Little Shop of Horrors all over again! We need to get out of here before they decide to EAT US!!!"


He ran off waving his arms like a crazy person, screaming about giant venus fly traps.


Strangely, none of us seemed worried about this at all...it wasn't much different than his usual screaming fits, right? So we all ignored the giant plant monsters trying to grab us and got in our cars to go home.


This is where the dream magically transformed into a completely different one, with no explanation as to what happened...


It is now about noon, I'm still driving the Heffalump, but now I'm taking my little brother to Wendy's in the mall (no idea why, I'm not that nice) (we don't even have a Wendy's in our mall...?). Like the responsible driver I am, I drove the giant holy crap van into the mall, then had to make a u-turn because it wouldn't fit in the line (I guess I thought there was a drive through...).


All of the sudden we are no longer in the van, just strolling around like normal mall patrons (Never mind. Normal mall patrons are old people). My brother somehow already had his food which consisted of a tray full of loose chicken nuggets and french fries...and he informs me that we have to buy my mom something.


I left my wallet in the van (which is apparently now parked outside) so as I was leaving the mall, I noticed a sketchy looking dude hanging around outside. One of his hands was gone and in place of it was a wooden spike. (Yeah, that's normal). He started following me, but wasn't very sneaky about it so I just went back into the mall to avoid being trapped in the parking lot with him.


As I pass my brother, I whisper at him to stay put until I get back and act natural, then fast-walk it to the security office. They find the guy on camera hanging around a department store down the hall, trying to figure out where I went, but when they go to capture him he's gone.


BAM, BOOM, ZING. Back to giant plant monsters / smoothie part of the dream (again, no explanation of why it changes storyline...)


I'm driving Beverly home while drinking my smoothie. When we pull up to a stop light, we hear a strange noise in the back. Beverly climbs over the seats to check it out only to discover Mr. Webb wrestling some kind of vine. She pulls it off him and throws it out the back door. He gets up, thanks her, and jumps out after it...all the while singing "I Am the Walrus" by the Beatles.


We didn't question him.


FIN.