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September 6th, 2008
 | 10:50 pm - N'awwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Just watched Be Kind Rewind for the second time. Aw, I love that film. It starts off being all Jack Black rock and slapstick, and then by the end it's turned into something incredibly bittersweet about jazz and community and ownership of history. Awwww.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/happy.gif) satisfied
Current Music: Dinah Washington - 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'
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September 5th, 2008
 | 12:24 am - Can I have some "I'm good at karate" squee?
Tonight Sensei said I had the best kime (focused strength) of anyone in the room - this is when ten of the thirteen people in the class are higher grades than me - that she was really pleased with how I was working, and that if she gave out merits in the senior class, I'd've got one! Eeeeeeeeeee!
I love karate, I really do. It's just such an awesome positive thing in my life. To have this disciplined, formal, traditional, physical thing that I'm good at and work hard at and progress in... it's so good for me. I'm so glad I went back to it.
There's this whole thing, femaleness plus depression, that wants to qualify that, to say "but you know I'm really crap". Nah! Fuck that! Yes, I'm only two grades above a white belt. So what? I'm doing my best and that IS good enough! And it's so awesome to have something in your life where that's true. Especially if you're me and have ricocheted through life a clumsy perfectionist.
I don't have a tag for 'happy'. That's sad. I'll make one.
Current Mood: pleased
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September 3rd, 2008
 | 08:20 pm - Oh god it's true it's all true
In which the delightful Ed Byrne explains the process that makes me late for everything:
*Sigh* I definitely do the two-minutes thing. And the suddenly-discovering-a-comfortable-position thing (I generally sleep with my limbs like unto the manner of a contortionist in a car accident).
Current Location: bed
Current Mood: amused
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September 2nd, 2008
 | 11:32 pm - I fist a girl and I like it
Also, Katie Perry needs to be shot in the face.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/angry.gif) misanthropic
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September 1st, 2008
 | 04:00 pm - These people talk to me like I'm stupid, mind.
Fun and games in getting an appointment! Apparently the practice manager spoke to Dr Rashid and Rashid expected me to contact him to make an appointment to sort the repeat prescription. As far as I can tell, I was supposed to divine this using extra-sensory perception, particularly since I'd already left him a message asking him to call me back, ooh, a week ago.
Different secretary on. Less of a bitch than the usual woman, but makes up for it in incompetence. After much explaining that yes, I really was a patient, and yes, I really was who I said I was, and yes, I really did need this appointment sooner than in the next three months, and fine, I'll phone you back in ten minutes because your system's just frozen, he offered me one "11th August, 12.30".
"Do you mean September?"
"Er, yes. 11th September."
"What day is that?"
"A Tuesday." (I'd said I could only really do Mondays and Tuesdays.)
"Tuesday, OK, thanks, bye."
Bethan: That's a Thursday.
Me: Gaaaaaaaaaaah.
Phone him up 30 seconds later.
"11th September is a Thursday."
"What?"
"We just spoke. 11th September is a Thursday, not a Tuesday. I can't do Thursdays."
"Oh, er, right. Er... 12, on 9th September?"
"12, 9th September. Fine. Bye."
He phones me up five minutes later.
"'Ello."
"Er... is that... Lawn-er, er?"
"Yep."
[rigmarole of establishing who he is and who I am, again]
"Er, 12 is the doctor's lunchbreak. Can I put you in for 1.30?"
"1.30, Tuesday, 9th September. Right. Fine."
"I'll write you a letter."
"Fine. Bye."
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Like getting blood out of a stone...
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/sleepy.gif) tired
Current Music: 'My Name Is Earl'
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 | 12:22 am - A day of varied and exciting wildlife
Cats: Got my hands clawed by a mad-as-hell feral cat. Walkies plan didn't work out.
Toad: Rescued what I think must've been a midwife toad (even better, a rare species!) from a mousetrap, after taking a few seconds to get over my initial "OH MY GOD I THINK I'M GOING TO BE FUCKING SICK". By some miracle, it didn't seem to be badly injured, and could still move both back legs. So I gave it some water and after it perked up a bit, found it a damp rockery next to a pond to live in.
Peafowl: We have a new peacock. And the peahen was acting totally weird, which I couldn't understand, until someone said she had eggs. Who nests in September? Well, Missy does. Good luck to her. She was trying to get me to follow her up to near her nest to feed her, like a dog. "What's that, Missy? Lionel's fallen down the well?"
Cats, 2: Met Fudge and Novac, J's two new cats, both of whom are FIV+. They're adorable, and perfectly friendly. Novac pounced on my knitting a bit.
Squid: Finished my squiddy-sea-monster costume in time to go to Candy Box Burlesque. Yay! Nearly died in the stifling club under all that yarn, mind.
Bears: Bearlesque (not sure if it's safe for work - as the name suggests, it's a burlesque troupe of bears) are the MOST AWESOMEST EVER! Three of them performed 'Mein Herr' from Cabaret, except it was 'Mein Bear', naturally. Bearlesque on YouTube, not work safe.
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: 'Rhythm of Life' - Sammy Davis Jr.
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August 31st, 2008
 | 08:39 am - Urgh
Tomorrow I have to get back on the pestering-the-shrinks horse. Hopefully by then enough of them will have returned from their holidays that I don't feel unreasonable for asking for, you know, medical treatment. NOT looking forward to it. It's a siege; I can't decide whether I'm outside the castle having boiling tar and dead horses dropped on me, or inside and reduced to gnawing on rats. Depends if we're talking about treatment or emotional resilience, I guess.
I just want them to NOT FUCK UP and SORT SOMETHING OUT. Preferably with a bonus helping of LISTENING TO A DAMN WORD I SAY, but I'm not delusional.
I also want it added to my care plan, under the relapse triggers & risks bit, that this is a major trigger for me and it's very important that they not do it. They need to take responsibility for the fact they are making me worse. I am not SUPPOSED to storm outside and cry and rage and throw glass bottles at fences after I've been 'helped'. Failboat. Doing It Wrong. (Despite the amount I rant, it takes a lot to make me violent, especially towards anything other than myself.)
"You want to be misunderstood", Russ Mulholland, the nurse shrink, says. Yeah. Because that's why I show up, even though I hate them, even though it's a long walk from my house, even though I'm terrified of people, even though it fucks up my mood for days on end, even though it makes me suicidal, even though I've got BETTER THINGS TO DO. Because I'm hoping it won't help, and repeating myself endlessly and being talked over is so much fun. Sure. "You love it, you slag" is not a helpful therapeutic intervention.
As for my alleged negativity, let's remind ourselves of studies finding depressed people make significantly more accurate predictions about the future than normal people. And let's remember that the thing about false hope, right, is it's always gonna disappoint you in the end.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/gloomy.gif) pessimistic
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August 30th, 2008
| 11:15 pm - Also
We've got these feral rescue cats living in the grain store, right? With quite a lot of fear that if we let them out they'll freak and run straight for the road and under a bus. So my current plan is to put those little kitty harnesses on them and take them for a de-freakifying and acclimatising walk around their new territory.
So yeah, I might have to be a tentacle sea monster with, you know, ALL THE SKIN CLAWED OFF UP TO MY ELBOWS.
I did get some tuna to bribe them with, though.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/scared.gif) nervous
Current Music: 'Salty Meat Girl' - Kitten on the Keys
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 | 11:07 pm - Heee, Candy Box Burlesque tomorrow night.
The theme is 'I do like to be beside the seaside'. So, with all that posibility for bikinis and sarongs and whatnot, naturally I'm going as a tentacled monster from the watery deeps.
*Knits tentacles frantically*
Seriously, I'm knitting tentacles. They're kinda froofy.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/silly.gif) giggly
Current Music: 'Betty Boop' - Kitten on the Keys
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| 08:26 pm - It's all gone a bit Dog Whisperer
I'm fairly sure that saying, "Cheer up, emo doggy!" isn't supposed to stop them barking.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/curious.gif) confused
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August 29th, 2008
| 08:55 pm - It's sort of like digging out pus and necrotic tissue with your ragged fingernails
Counselling, I mean. Which is to say: I don't like it. It's not my idea of fun. Still, it's not like letting it fester and go gangrenous has worked out well for me, so. Pass the TCP.
(Am also distracted by hotness of counsellor, as well as realisation that she looks and sounds exactly like the woman who ran the 'making the punishment fit the crime' SM Dykes workshop... hmmm.)
She's a bit convinced we're going to find the Deep-Seated Reason For My Problems, but then the talky-shrinks generally are; I think it comes with the territory. (I say, Rafiki-style, "It doesn't matter! It's in the past!" I do not, however, hit people over the head with a stick first.) She had a coffee mug that said "Freudian Sip", which made me want to like her. As did her letting me talk, her vocal empathy, and her tendency to pounce on the important things rather than the trivial things (cf my psychiatrist, on hearing about how I became catatonic when switching around cables on the TV, wanted to know why I was switching the cables). I think the only unimportant thing she picked up upon was my tendency to describe myself as "mad" or "crazy", and she accepted my flippant attitude to that fairly quickly (I've got the symptoms, the scars, the five pills a day, the side-effects and the stigma. Things will not magically become okay if I use a different word). She let me talk about my hallucinations and suicidal ideation on my own terms. She believed me when I said that X sounded like a big deal but wasn't my real problem, or that I'd dealt with Y with no help from anyone else and frankly it was insulting when people tried to butt into it now.
I actually liked her enough to ask if it was okay if I swore, rather than just dropping f-bombs all over the shop because that's how I talk anyway, and if I was hideously uncomfortable they bloody well could be, too.
It all sort of makes me wonder how much of therapy is to do with its terribly scientific psychological wossname, and how much is to do with the incredibly positive, incredibly novel experience of turning to someone for help and not having them treat you like shit.
Current Mood: cautiously optimistic
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 | 12:12 am - "Bullshit. And how did you manage to kill the whole council with a toilet brush anyway?"
I've got the new Tank Girl book (Armadillo! and a bushel of other stories, by Alan C. Martin), and it's hilarious. I'm having some problems with the fact it's all words and no pictures, but once I got over my initial "aaargh! thousands of letters! what the fuck is going on?!?!?!?!", it's all groovy. It makes me cackle in a way that guarantees a seat to myself on the train.
Current Mood: amused
Current Music: 'Tank Girl: Armadillo!' - Alan C. Martin
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August 28th, 2008
 | 07:59 am - Assorted public transport moans
Those little suitcases with wheels and retractable handles. Does using them make people stupid, or do people use them because they're stupid in the first place? The top of the narrow escalator with loads of people behind you is a bad place to stop and mess around. No, seriously, it is. Oh, just die already.
If you can't carry it, don't fucking pack it. Look, it's a TRAIN. How much luggage space do you think there's gonna be? It's not the nineteenth century. You don't need a giant trunk for your corsets and bustles.
SIT! STAY! Did I say "keep milling around aimlessly when other people are trying to find seats"? Did I? No. I said SIT. STAY. Bad human. Smack on the nose.
No, London Midland trains, you can not has a Saturday service. Because it's not a Saturday. Sort it out.
Look, if there's another train sitting on the platform or the approach until one minute before my train is due, obviously my train is not "expected: on time". Two objects can occupy the same space, but not without interesting carnage. Stop claiming it is right until the last moment.
If you're gonna divert the train via the route that takes twenty minutes longer, it would be awesome if you'd tell people that before they get on.
Can we rename the Quiet Zone the "toddler-free zone", please? At least on journeys that take three hours. Similarly, if you make a mobile phone call two seconds after the announcement reminding you that this is the Quiet Zone, I hope it cooks your brain.
If the train has stopped in the middle of nowhere, or is going at half the speed it usually does, we'd quite like to know why and for how long. It's not like we won't notice the scenery's not moving.
Lady, if "like fruit tea" is the most "horrible smell" you've encountered on public transport, specifically next to the toilet on a Virgin train, you're a lucky, lucky woman. Stop whining. Your mouth-noises hurt my head-bones.
Current Mood: cranky
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August 26th, 2008
 | 02:21 pm - I've heard it said you'll try anything twice
In which spirit, I've got a counselling appointment on Friday. (Not from the half-trained monkeys with power over my brain chemistry. God no. From the occupational health unit at work.)
I won't have it said I haven't tried, so yeah. Let's give it a go.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/okay.gif) apathetic
Current Music: 'In My Bed' - Amy Winehouse
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 | 12:01 am - Stand back! I'm going to try SCIENCE!
Also from yarnfairy godmother ![[info]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) redandfiery, the six most badass stunts ever pulled in the name of science.
Silly scientists! When will they learn?
Current Mood: amused
Current Music: 'A Big Boy Did It And Ran Away' - Christopher Brookmyre
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August 25th, 2008
| 10:46 am - Dear yarnfairy godmother redandfiery
Fankoo for the woooooooooooooool! Now I can make my cousin's other kid a monkey in eyebleeding colours! Yay!
Current Location: bethan's
Current Mood: happy
Current Music: 'Apres Moi' - Regina Spektor
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August 23rd, 2008
 | 08:43 pm - In other 'oh god oh god oh god' news
My dad's just discovered the picture-message function on his mobile.
THIS CAN ONLY END IN CARNAGE.
Current Mood: apprehensive
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 | 07:51 am - Oh god I hate my subconscious oh god I hate my subconscious oh god I hate my subconscious
SSRIs screw up your sex life, right? So when you cold-turkey them, you tend to get several months' worth of X-rated dreams land on you at once. I do, anyway. I might just be weird. ("Might"?)
Seriously, subconscious? Her? Were you hoping I'd do the classic waking-up-screaming thing for your amusement?
That's not a thin line between love and hate. I am not protesting too much. Fuckin' EW.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](/Code-https-web.archive.org/web/20080908042507im_/http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/charitycam/goth_girl/sick.gif) nauseated
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August 22nd, 2008
| 08:45 pm - Ya know
If you catch me posting anywhere in the next 24 hours, just say, "Lorna, you haven't taken your antidepressants in three days; you're psychotically angry; shut up and go to sleep."
Current Mood: cranky
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 | 08:35 pm - I am religiously biased. I will cheerfully incite religious hatred.
I don't want a chemist who's so Catholic they won't hand out emergency contraception, or a surgeon who's so Catholic they won't do abortions. I think they should be sacked.
I don't want a psychiatrist who's so Scientologist they won't give me antidepressants. I think they should be sacked.
I don't want a surgeon who's so Jehovah's Witness they won't give me a blood transfusion. I think they should be sacked.
I don't want a GP who's so Christian Scientist they ignore all medical advances since the fourteenth century and tell me to pray instead. I think they should be sacked.
STOP BLEATING ON ABOUT THE BIG DADDY SKY FAIRY AND DO YOUR FUCKING JOB.
(This rant was inspired by yet another stupid thing about reproductive rights, naturally.)
Current Mood: cranky
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