Being home is really nice, as I mentioned before. I'm getting the chance to regroup, to go through all my old stuff from before France and all the stuff I still have after France and get it all together. I took care of the insurance stuff for my hospital stay and now my dad is turning all the paperwork for the student loan payments and deferments over to me too. If I was still in France trying to figure everything out that would be stressful, but here I have the chance to take it slow and stay organized.

But at the same time, I feel like I'm watching myself sink into irrelevance. The MOR fandom is now just a bunch of people on tumblr with a shared interest in the occasional gifset of Flo wandering around a studio. There was a mild interest in 1789, but not really in my recap or stagedoor stories of it. The Florum is just long strings of me sharing news and nobody commenting. Not to mention the fact that none of my friends, the people I was so desperate to get back to, seem to care that I'm home. Zero of the people located in and around my hometown have offered to hang out sometime. There's talk of us all getting together to go laugh through the next Twilight movie over Thanksgiving, but I know that if I don't plan it it won't happen. None of them are ever on skype anymore when I need someone to talk to, which is weird because we're in the same time zone now.

When I went to my first study abroad meeting, they said not to worry about your friends moving on while you're gone, because when you return you'll inevitably find that you're the one who has changed. That was true when I came home for a month after my first semester in Paris. Now, almost two years later... it's the opposite. I have stronger stances on some issues, but I feel like I'm still sitting here putting on silly costumes, dancing to ABBA, and raving about MOR while everyone else goes off and does their own thing without looking back. Things will probably get better once I'm able to leave this town again, but I needed this break so badly and I'm not ready to start making those plans yet. My mom tried to send me on a blind-friend-date with a girl from her work, because as an extrovert she assumes that, like her, I wish I had a bunch of near-strangers to suddenly start hanging out with. It was awkward. I'm reluctant to make new friends for the two months I'll be here, because once I move on they'll just be more facebook status updates and more of me squinting and going "Do I actually know this person?". But now I've just gone and isolated myself again just like in France. I need a few close friends, not a ton of casual ones, and sometimes I feel like I've invested myself in people who don't need me back. People who have other plans with other people whenever I ask if they want to hang out. I feel like that old paranoia from the bad times in the dorms is coming back, when I knew it was just that no one actually wanted to be around me.

I know I changed so much in France and I'm proud of everything I learned, but sometimes I wonder if I'd have been happier if I'd just stayed here in ignorance so they didn't have a chance to replace me.
I'm back!

Protip everyone: if you're having trouble breathing AT ALL, go ahead and head on over to your nearest hospital. Turns out what I had was a pulmonary embolism, meaning sitting for hours with my legs crossed (and taking birth control) had caused a blood clot in my legs which had then travelled up and lodged itself in the aorta thing that leads from my heart to my lungs, all but blocking the blood to my lungs. And, trying to be a champ or whatever the hell I was doing, I thought I'd just wait it out. If that clot had gone any higher in my body I might have actually suffered brain damage. And apparently my body is a damn trooper, because the fact is I first noticed a little bit of chest pain SUNDAY, but I thought it was just being out of shape. Tuesday night I fainted and from that point forward breathing hurt. Wednesday I was convinced I would be fine (I think I have a disorder or something, but I remember when my dad broke his foot a couple years ago he also insisted he was fine and limped around the house for a day and a half before he finally let us take him to the ER). When I woke up Thursday and the problem hadn't changed AT ALL my boyfriend convinced me to call the hospital.

They sent a doctor over and he didn't know what the deal was, so he called us up an ambulance. It took them AN HOUR to get to the place. I grabbed my purse and jacket and headed out, assuming they'd give me a pill or something and I'd be back online before dinner.

When they first started saying I'd have to be in the hospital for "quelques jours" [several days] I actually burst into tears. I was really freaked out for the first day or so. They kept me in ICU for a day or two, then moved me out early because they needed the room. I had a room that was bigger than Vincent's entire apartment, but unfortunately the TV wasn't free and there was no wifi, so Vincent brought me my laptop and (new) external hard drive, and I spent the rest of my Parisian hospital adventure watching Torchwood, RTD Who, Horrible Histories, Conan, and videos of me and my friends goofing off in the dorms.

I wasn't allowed out of the bed until Monday, meaning I had to use a bedpan. When they did let me up I couldn't believe how utterly delighted I was to go to a toilet on my own. My whole bed confinement had consisted of me avoiding drinking water and holding it in in order to spare myself the embarassment of ringing for the nurse to put that damn thing under my ass and having to essentially SOIL MYSELF and ughhhh gross. Luckily I never did numbah two in the bedpan... I held that in till Monday evening when they let me stand up.

I could see the top half of the Eiffel Tower from the window of my hospital room, which was pretty cool. Honestly it was kinda nice to stay in a clean, quiet environment for a few days with three average meals brought to me and no one being surprised when I just stayed in bed watching movies all the time. The downside was all the needles that were coming at me. I had to get a shot morning and night with this horrible stuff that burned like HELL. They had to thin my blood so no more clots will form, and I'm on a pill that I'll be taking for at least six months. Every morning they woke me up around 6 or 7 to draw blood, but since I have deep veins there was this one hot dumb nurse guy who could never find them and would just dig around in there and OW SIR.

Basically, my thighs and stomach are covered in bruises and puncture marks from the shots, my inner elbow crease thingies and the backs of my hands are also bruised and punctured from blood being drawn, and WHY ARE IV'S A GOOD IDEA?!? My IV hand is still all bruised and cripped and OW AGAIN.

Anyway, I'm doing my best to never cross my legs though it turns out that is my absolute default sitting position. They say as long as I'm on this medication it should be impossible for new clots to form, but they're also edgy about me taking a plane in less than twenty days. I didnt mention my eleven hour train ride to them at all... nothing the doctors say will make me change my flight. I will DIE if I have to stay here much longer. I am such a homesick motherfucker, like you can't even understand. I dreamed I was home multiple times over the past week and my heart broke every time I woke up and realized it wasn't true. I'll wear the fancy tights they're going to give me and I'll get up and walk a bit once an hour or so and I assume I'll be fine.

Oh, I'm never allowed to take birth control again, by the way. So... buckle up for my period to come back in full force. I did not miss the days of crippling cramps and my sudden urges to punch everyone who looked at me.

The hardest part is that I had to miss stagedooring the avant-premier of 1789, and of course Flo was there. So there's a really good chance I've missed my last ever chance to see him. I sent him a message on his myspace saying that if he one day realized I had disappeared it wasn't because I stopped following his career but because I got hospitalized and then went back to the US, but after sending it I saw he hasn't logged onto that page since Valentine's Day. So I think I've lost him. I'm going to try hanging out at the train station next Friday and Saturday in hopes of catching him or Mikele on the way to Lyon for the foot concert, but it's either that or they happen to show up for 1789 a day I'm there...
I think I must be REALLY homesick.

I've started questioning this whole thing. If it wasn't for the musicals scene and my obsession with stalking Florent Mothe after concerts I would be giving serious though to making a big change. I would be seriously thinking about applying to a grad school in England or something. I would be thinking about following a career path that led into publishing, like copyediting or proofreading or something.

It's been a full year since I was in the States, and in that time I've been in a situation where I lost a lot of confidence in myself, became convinced that I was socially disabled, and was unable to make friends that fill the hole left by the dorm girls. I was supposed to be rooming with Kelley in New York right now, living in a shitty apartment and working a part-time job while I reflected on what I really wanted out of life.

I'm so skeeved out by the lack of separation between church and state and the weird obsession with having the perfect body that I see in American culture that I don't know if I can go back. But I also don't know if I could really make close, bff type friends out of French people who had such different childhoods than mine. I don't know if my French will ever be good enough to get into school.

I guess I'm just really lonely and I feel really inadequate. Maybe I can get my foot in the door working in translation for a publishing house here in France (after two years of a master's program), and if I'm still unsure whether I'm happy I could try applying to one of the millions of companies in New York. Or I could apply to grad schools in New York for next year, and if I don't get into the French ones I have a backup plan that won't require me to au pair for ANOTHER year.

I'm not sure I remember what it is I would miss about France if I went back to the States, besides the obvious political climate stuff and Flo. I think it's just coming down to a cultural thing between me and other French people, and frustration with trying to communicate in a foreign language. Why am I doing this?

This is a burned-out post.

I don't want to be an au pair again.


Dec. 23rd, 2011 12:57 pm
Well, the neck pain has persisted for a little over a week now.

Tonight I'm going to Germany.

Yesterday was interesting.  I had my date.  We talked for a long time, I drank a Bloody Mary (AWFUL), and then we walked along the Seine, a weird vendor tricked him into buying a Santa hat which he gave to me, and he kept sliding closer to me and saying he was cold.  And he would use any excuse to put an arm around me or whatever.  Like, embarrassed that the vendor tricked him?  Put his forehead on my shoulder.  That kind of stuff.  And I was like welp I imagine I know where this will lead.

And sure enough, I was in the middle of talking about a car horn or something when he started kissing me.  I figured what the hell, I'll kiss back.

I guess it won't ever be the way it was with my dumbass again.  I just thought he was so magical and we wanted each other for months.  There was so much buildup and so much obsession.  I don't hold any grudges against him anymore.  I just kind of miss the person I thought he was.  I miss that person a lot.  I expected too much from him.  But now that I've started thinking about other things too I understand why I cross his mind so infrequently.  I don't mind.  I'm a little bit sad, but I'll soldier on.

Anyway, my goal was to kiss someone else before the end of the year, and I did it.  It wasn't magical or exciting or anything, but I'm glad it happened and I'll be glad to see him again when I get back from Germany.

Then I went to see a little production of Les Liaisons dangereuses, my favorite movie and one of my favorite books, and... I knew I'd been feeling poorly, but... well... twenty minutes into the show, I threw up.

It was a tiny theatre, I was in the second row, and the actresses were standing less than ten feet away from me when suddenly that Bloody Mary came spewing back into being.  All over every item of clothing I was wearing.  I sat there stunned for a second, then got up and hurried to the back of the theatre where I saw a technician and was in the middle of saying "J'ai vomi--" when another round came out.  And then another.  He grabbed a trash can for me and I threw up two more times.  He led me to the bathroom where I tried to clean up in the sink.

My face.  My hair.  My turtleneck.  My favorite dress.  All the space between my turtleneck and my favorite dress.  My tights.  My legwarmers.  My boots.  My scarf.  My underwear.  EVERYTHING.

I spent ages contorting over that sink, trying to get the most obvious chunks off.  It was so awful.  Finally a lady appeared and asked if I wanted her to call the firemen.  THE FIREMEN?  Gah France wtf.

She asked if I wanted to go back and watch the rest of the show, and I was like, Lady, I reek of tomato juice vomit.  I just need to lie down.  She was so sweet though, telling me not to be embarrassed and not to worry about it and reassuring me that the other people in the theatre don't know me, blah blah.  It was really sweet.  I finally managed to go back in to collect my bag and coat, whispering a "désolée!" to the people who were sitting around my little vomit puddle, and hurried back out.  I was drenched and putrid and... now I had to take the métro home.

Most awkward métro ride ever.  I tried to smoosh my drippy stinky self into corners, but after a few minutes I could always see other people in the train start to sniff and look around.  It took so long.  I finally arrived home and immediately stripped everything off and started a load of wash, but the smell was on me too.  I showered, but I was too dizzy to stay upright long so I had to lie down.  The smell was still there, so I had to shower again with more soap once I had collected my balance.

When I told my host family they gave me the day off, but there isn't anyone else to watch the kids.  I was glad to lie back down, but the kids are on their own and after an hour or so they started fighting and I had to come break it up.  I played board games with them for a few hours until their mom came in, sent me back to bed (yay!) and is now feeding them lunch.  I've eaten a clementine and a compote (apple sauce stuff) today, and that's it.  I have no appetite and get easily nauseated.

And tonight I have a nine-hour train ride to Germany.  Add in my neck pain and... maybe I could just kill myself?
The last few days have been really tough.

I kind of wounded my back somehow about a week ago--my lower back, just at the base of my spine.  And ever since I've had varying degrees of shoulder and neck pain/stiffness.  This weekend I couldn't turn my head at all.  It's torture.  My host family is sympathetic and has put me on Doliprane, a French painkiller, but it only works like 70% and it also makes me really nauseous or... something I can't describe.

The worst thing is, every time I'm left alone with my thoughts they get really dark.  I think I am finally starting to look around me and see that my groupie days are over, my obsession with Patrice is over, and I don't know what to do anymore.  I don't know what I want.  I am looking forward to three things: Christmas at German Lara's house (next weekend), seeing Adam & Eve (in a little over a month), and 1789 (in less than a year).  After that... nothing.  It's like my life is a ten minute youtube video and it's only managed to buffer the first minute.  I don't know what to look forward to after that.  I don't have any career aspirations or anything.  Whenever I see how happy my host family is surrounded by family and life-long friends I ask what the hell I think I'm doing out here alone in a foreign country prowling around dating sites for company and texting people who don't feel the need to answer.  I love Europe and I love France and I love Paris, but I'm just getting so scared and so overwhelmed.  I don't miss the United States at all, but wouldn't it be easier?

I can't give up and go back, though, because here I at least have a plan for another year.  I submitted my TAPIF application and will find out what they say at the beginning of April.  Everyone who knows about the program assures me that I'll get Paris (or a suburb) since I have so much experience living here and speaking French and blah blah.  Plus I've found a program that hooks students up with a lonely old person with a huge house in Paris: you live in a spare room and pay something like €21 a month and all the old person asks is that you eat dinner with them and tell them about your day.  I LOVE old people.  That would be ideal for me as long as they found me a suitable geezer and as long as my person didn't DIE before our year was up.  I would even make an awesome PROFIT from TAPIF if I could do that!

If I went home... I have no idea.  I wouldn't be growing or moving forward.  I wouldn't know where to start looking for a job or future.  Literally, I wouldn't know WHERE to look.  My hometown?  My college town?  New York City?  Some random city I find by throwing a dart at a map?  No, at least here I have a path for next year.  At least here I CAN do stuff if I want.  At least here I have a place in society, even if that place has become slightly obsolete without MOR.

Anyway.  Scared, depressed, sore, unsure.  And sore.  REALLY sore.  I'm at a point in my life where for the first time mortality is really starting to scare me.

Also, I have found that I can no longer make ANY life decisions without running it by other people first.  Even my Sims game I screencap new developments so I can tell everyone (no one cares) about it.  I haven't started applying for the living-with-an-old-person thing because I haven't had enough friends encourage me to do so yet.  In any case I should probably wait till April, because if I don't get TAPIF then I'm going to have to stay with this host family for another year.

My sore back kept me indoors last Monday, and I skipped stagedooring La Chanson de l'Année.  I went for a few hours during the afternoon and saw Christophe Maé, Shy'm, Seal, and Bénabar going in to rehearsals.  If I had come back and waited to catch people as they left I could have seen the troupes of Adam & Eve and 1789.  I could have gotten flotos.  But I stayed here and laid across my bed and thought about how scared I was until I cried.
Okay, this whole host family thing is becoming an issue. Today my host mom started telling me how I need to move on because everything in my life is about one show, and she was like, You have to be other things than just that, you have to go out and meet people. She said it would be one thing if I liked musicals, but it's not all musicals, it's just that one. I was like, You misunderstand, I do like musicals but the thing is I don't want to go out and see Dracula right now and also I don't have much money, most of the extra money I'm making is being sent back home to pay for my student loans. She didn't understand the concept of student loans at all, so she asked how much I owed. I said I didn't know and that confused the hell out of her. Then she started telling me I need to make a decision about my future, I need to work towards something because time passes quickly, I need to decide what I want to do if I go back to school.

THEN she started asking me why I don't write to my brother (wtf?!?) and why I never talk to my dad on skype. There is nothing wrong with my relationship with my father, he just isn't someone who chats. In college if I called home he'd just ask if I wanted him to pass the phone to my mom. It doesn't mean we don't like each other, it's just the way we are. Nowadays if he passes by when I'm skyping my mom he just says hi and turns the camera on the cat. My host mom said that's why I have to make an effort, she said if he's as shy as me then maybe it's difficult but I have to ask questions and really care about his life. As for my brother, we actively hated each other from high school until a few months ago. That is EIGHT YEARS. Now we're facebook friends. I don't mind him, but why am I obligated to write him a letter or something? We've seen each other, like, twice in the past two years. I know he exists and he knows I exist but we keep our separate lives and there's no problem with that.

Another thing... I don't think I'm shy. I have confidence issues and I am quite self-centered, so when I'm in a situation where I can't be the center of attention I usually just go silent. If you ask me questions about myself I will tell you everything. I'll show you dirty texts I've received from my Frenchman the first day I meet you, but not if you don't seem interested and definitely not if I feel like you're going to judge me for it. I feel judged by this family who just doesn't understand the culture of my family and my upbringing, and that's why I close myself off. I go into my room to be on the computer and I spend the whole time worrying that they're judging me for that. It's not relaxing for me to go out and be around a million talking people. I miss having friends, but I don't want to go out and make new ones. I just want friends that already exist.

I gave an English lesson to a neighbor's kid today. One hour and I made €15. I can do that. I can hook up with that agency that finds you a family that needs ten hours of babysitting a week and in return gives you an apartment. I don't need much money to live, I just need to pay for my navigo pass and my cell phone and food. And wifi, I definitely need wifi. I don't know what kind of a career I want because I've never known, nothing has ever seemed interesting or attainable. I've wanted to be a writer since I was little but I've never finished a book and if I did I wouldn't know what to do with it. I wanted to be an actor once but that dream died when I realized I wasn't that talented; I wanted to go into film but after studying it for a summer it lost its shine. I don't want to go to further school for something unless Im sure it's something I am really passionate about, like forever passionate, and there isn't anything. It's like telling me I need to get married when I don't know any marry-able men.

My plan is to get a job with that agency so I can babysit for housing, enroll in a class at a cheap ass language school to get my student visa, give English lessons on the weekends, and just live until something catches my eye. I know I want to stay in Paris while it's still appealling to me, but that's all I know for sure. Just let me stay and let me decide. We only live one life; imagine if you were stuck doing something you hated and then you died.

Still, I'm really susceptible to other people's opinions and now I'm kind of panicking. At the very least I'm indignant and wounded. But how can you call me lazy and unmotivated after I got my ass back to Paris in two months when I expected it to take me the rest of my life? If I want something, I'll go after it with a fury you've never seen before. I stalked the hell out of MOR in a way most people wouldn't even dream of doing. I know what I *can* do, the problem is that I have to really want the result in order to get up in the first place. And I don't really want anything except to stay.
I got what I wanted.  I'm going back to Paris.  I leave the US on September 9th and I arrive September 10th.  I'll see MOR in 3D in cinemas, I'll go see if Nuno remembers me when Adam et Eve comes out, when Flo's album comes out I'll buy it.  I'll buy fruit from the sketchy guys on the street corner for spare change, I'll be speaking French, I'll be "Ehreen" again.

So why have I been miserable for three days?  Why did I just now collapse onto the futon and burst into tears?  Why did I just lie down on the floor this morning with no desire to get up again?  Why do I stay up till 3am and write long, emo posts that make me sound like I hate everything?

It's not menstrual.  There's no reason for this.  That's what makes it terrifying.
 An appointment finally opened up for August 22nd and I jumped on it.

Unfortunately, that's three days before the family wants me there and visas take fifteen to twenty-one days to process.

Last year one of my friends pulled some strings and got herself an expedited visa in a matter of days.  But I can't make that happen for me somehow, I won't be back till early September.

It would be nice to know so I could buy what I hope will be my last one-way ticket between the United States and France.

Can I just say?

I feel like I was meant for France.  I feel the way people in movies feel when they've found their soulmate.

I have been studying French with passion since I was thirteen years old.  They didn't offer French class till I was fourteen, so I bought a French-English dictionary a year early and tried to teach myself.

I have been obsessed with shows as long as I can remember.  In America, that makes me singular and makes it hard to relate to me.  In France, it made 200+ people send me facebook friend requests.

I have also always wanted to feel like I was special and important.
  In France, I'm immediately interesting and memorable because of my nationality.

I have always wanted to live in a big city.  I have always wanted to lose weight without trying.  I have always wanted to feel like I belonged to something, like I was a part of something.

I feel like I was meant for France.  We didn't know it at first; the first few months we bickered and squabbled and I dreamed about home.  It wasn't until I visited America for the first time, last Christmas, that I realized how hard I had fallen for France.  This summer has only cemented it and made me know for a fact that it was true.  I want back.

Second semester I never missed anything from home except, every once in a while, macaroni and cheese.

I have done nothing since May but lie around complaining about all the things I miss from Paris.

I want back and I want to stay.


Jul. 13th, 2011 09:38 pm
 I don't like how one little thing can set me off and give me a bad feeling for the rest of the day.  Maybe once I get back to France I can pick up where I left off and maybe I'll be able to feel good about myself most of the time and not just every once in a while.

Apparently the host family liked my dossier and the next step is for them to contact me directly.  I've gotten kind of attached to the concept of these three kids, but not as attached as I am to the concept of having my own apartment in the 13th arrondissement.  Yeah, I'll be getting up early and bundling three kids off to school, then picking them up later and spending most of the afternoon entertaining them, not to mention a bunch of housework on Wednesdays and stuff, but I'm suffering here with nothing to do with my life.  I think I've used the word "directionless" in every entry.  If I wasn't working toward getting back to Paris I think I'd have gone kind of crazy weeks ago.

Maybe I play the Sims too often and now I just always expect to have an achievable goal in sight.  It was easy as a groupie: every weekend I went to another city and accomplished so many things on my own--hotels, trains, teeny moments endearing myself to the famous people I love and admire--but here I go days at a time without leaving the apartment.  I don't want to leave.  Every time I open the door the humidity grosses me out and I just want to go back inside and lie down some more.  I only go out to go to work, and then I come straight home and get right back online.  Yesterday I turned the computer off long enough to watch Amadeus (sobbed my way through all the scenes that made me think of Da Ponte) and halfway through the movie I got an urge to get back online.

I know I can be awesome and I know I enjoy it.  I like challenges that I have to overcome, like speaking French on a daily basis or getting the name of the Troupe's hotel.  I don't like sitting around trying to think of something to do.

I'm sorry to every single person who's had to talk to me this summer, online or in person.  I can't talk or think about anything but Patrice Maktav.  I wish I could for everyone's sake.  I know how easy it is for me to cling to something like this and lose touch with rationality, but when you've done the things I've done, at what point are you being unrealistic?

I need something to do, but at the same time I don't want to do anything.  It's 9:30 and I've already put on my pyjamas and gotten in bed.
Read more... ) 

ETA: Transportation alternative suggested!  My mom, afraid that my soul has gone to ruin in France (and I think we all know it has, lol) says she'll come out here on Saturdays to take me to work, watch a movie during my shift, then take me back to my hometown (thirty minutes away) after so I go to church Sunday mornings with the family, then I can drive myself back here and drive to my Monday shift.  And on Tuesday sometime my dad will drive her out so she can retrieve the car.  That's a lot of trouble but she's happy because she gets free movies and she gets to save my soul and I'm happy because it's a million less hours of bus nonsense!
 I don't know what my deal is.

Read more )

It's like I was playing a video game and I got to the most awesome level and I was doing SO WELL but then I got knocked back down to the level I've already beaten a hundred times.
I'm kind of falling apart.  Maybe all this tour stalking has finally caught up to me.  Obviously my personal life has me on an emotional rollercoaster again and I'm constantly at war with myself over my decisions and that's just concerning me and myself and my choices.

I am a terrible student. )

Yet when I show up at the hoteldoor I feel like the best person ever.  I recognise almost all of the hardcore fans and I like them all (even though they don't seem to like each other).  I love using bus maps to find my way around a new town and I love that moment when I use the strange key to open the door to my hotel room and see where I'll be crashing for the next two nights.  I love dozing off with my mouth open on the train.  I love that funny noise the machine makes when I stick my train ticket in and I love handing the contrôleur my carte 12-25.  I always come home with new French phrases and new facebook friends and, most importantly, flotos.  The Troupe knows me, a bunch of them call me by name, at least two of them have read my lj and at least one regularly stalks my facebook.  Three have tried to get me free tickets to the show.  As for the fans, in Rouen some of them wanted pictures with ME, one told me she could find me a job if I ever wanted to come back to France, several have told me I'm welcome to stay with them if I ever need a roof over my head in various cities, all of them are willing to give me rides in their car when my hotel is an hour and a half away on foot...  People want to buy dolls from me, people try to commission other knitted stuff, it's ridiculous.

Maybe that's why I've completely stopped caring about classes.  My friends back home just graduated and I'm stuck in class limbo for a few more weeks.  And then I have to start real life and I have to just go to work every day and pay bills and reread my own lj entries and remember that for one year in France I was a legend.  For one year in France my life was indescribable.  For one year I lived in fangirl heaven.

For anybody who was with me when I left for Christmas break, when I thought that without the Palais des Sports every night my world was over... get ready for all that angst to crank up again.  Times a hundred.
 Whoa whoa whoa let's calm it down.

I don't mind handing off other peoples' gifts and things to Mikelangeflo.  I'll do that all day long.

I find it a little annoying when other fans tell me to tell Mikelangeflo they said hi, however, because I don't want to use my few precious minutes of face time with my heros trying to make them remember someone they only met once.

And now I've got a fan telling me to give Mikele her daughter's phone number and asking him to call her and say if he remembers her or not.  She literally gave me her phone number so Mikele would call her daughter.  MIKELE.  The man met this girl ONCE in Bruxelles and she's like omg tell him she said hi tell hi to call her.  What??? No!  Mikele can't even remember ME from day to day and I've been showering him with knitted presents since the second time I saw him in person at the beginning of November!  By which I mean I gave him gloves and a doll.


I am gonna take MY moments with the Troupe as MINE because after May 29th I will never see any of them again.  You fools are all living a few hours' drive away from them and will be for as long as they keep working in France.  I WILL SOON BE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE OCEAN.

Back off.  Send him a message on his facebook or something.








lesmisloony: (sad doctor)
 I just had a dinner thing with basically all my best friends from... I don't know, life.  There weren't many people missing.  And we all talked and laughed and made jokes and went to the restaurant that's basically my equivalent to Chubbie's...

And then no one could bear to leave the group, so we all stood in a circle and held each other and sang Total Eclipse of the Heart... and Katherine and I performed Mark it Up from Repo... and we sang the Double Rainbow song... and the Bed Intruder song... we were out in the parking lot for about two hours after we left the restaurant.  I'm going to miss those people.

I started packing today, and amazing all of my clothes only took up half of my big suitcase!  Haven't thought about shoes yet.

This is the bad part of leaving the country.


Feb. 16th, 2009 02:44 am
NOOOOO THE DOCTOR DIED AND WE WERE IN LOVE!  He was trying to repair our broken computer and he got electrocuted and flopped onto the floor and the Grim Reaper showed up and Captain Jack started pleading for his life but he failed and Death took the Doctor away from us and left me alone.  :([Poll #1349984]Hahaha I waste so much time.
Seriously, I need to iconify Nathan Wallace banging his head against the wall.  I could get srs mileage out of that icon.


So, here's the part that makes me want to inflict pain upon myself:
My cute little art-y theatre is opening Friday the 13th tomorrow.  Nooooo.  The dirty rednecks who showed up for The Wrestler were bad enough, but now we'll have to get all the idiots I used to have to deal with at the multiplex whyyyyy?  I love catering to old ladies and Whole Foods snobs!  Wah.

And here are my Sims!  Richmond, Julian, and Sophie became teenagers.  Richmond and Julian fell in love (so there!) but then Sophie developed a crush on Richmond (almost canon?) and slapped him the next time he made out with Julian...?  Even though he and Julian were going steady... I don't know.  STFU, Sophie.  Also, George meditated so much he can now hover and teleport you guys this game is amazing.

Just two caps this time. ) 

Unfortunately, when they grew up to adult Julian's and Sophie's faces became super thin... why couldn't I have just let them have fat cheeks as kids?  Because I'm an idiot.  Fail.  But still I love them.

Also this boy and I might like him and he's been stopping by our room more and more.
That is all I wish to say about that.

Need to find better hair for Richmond.  Want to find Les Mis skins or something.

We moved Voldetta and Voldina, the horrifying ones, into their own house.  Then Kat made Edward and Edwardo Cullen and moved them in across the street.  They will have beautiful children.

ALSO!  There's this semi-retarded Sim who comes with the game.  His name is Goopy.  He wears plaid shorts and eats rotten food.  Blind Mag is pregnant with his baby.
So.  I've been painfully sick since Tuesday.  Monday was fun, though.  Went with [profile] moon_dove  to see a certain movie in the theatre with the hopes of being able to mock it but, after about three minutes, were joined by a very intimidating couple who could have killed us with a thought.  We tried and failed to keep it down.  As soon as they left at the end we yelled "FAIL!" through the credits, though.  Then we ate Italian and flirted with a waiter.

And then Tuesday I was supposed to go shopping for clothes and a DVD of Interview with a Vampire, but I suddenly felt awful and decided I'd better stay in bed.  By the end of the night I had a temperature.  I tried to going to work Wednesday but barely made it through conscious and my parents came all the way out (a thiry-minute drive) to take me home because I didn't feel good enough to make the commute back myself.  I thought I was going to pass out on the highway.   I had to get people to cover my shifts Thursday and Friday.

I have had cold chills all over my body, dizziniess, a stuffy nose, weird cloggy ears, a cough, a throat sore from all the coughing which has now begun to swell and bleed, headaches, an occasional burning sensation in my feet, sore muscles, and lots of lots of exhaustion.  I have gone through two boxes of tissues but every time I clear my nose it clogs back up again almost immediately.  And now my lips are chapped from breathing through my mouth.  WHIIIINE.  The PAINNNN.  Still, my fever seems to have broken and now I'm just left with the throat and sinus issues.  Owwww.  And I move back into the dorms Sunday and classes start Monday.  And my mom just now brought me some of that nasty cherry throat spray with an expiration date from 2005.  I became suspicious when I saw it was covered in dust.  lol my parents.

Anyway, because I've been lying in bed with my laptop for four days (passing out every few hours), I've been able to do some catching up.  I saw The Ruby in the Smoke, The Shadow in the North, that one episode of Secret Diary of a Call Girl with Matt Smith, AD/BC (AMAZING!), Living Till The End, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (also amazing), the first two episodes of Scrubs season eight, The Next Doctor (again) (lol Tennant), The New Earth with in-vision commentary (aww Tennant), two episodes of The IT Crowd from s2, the pilot of A Bit of Fry and Laurie, and then I went through my iTunes and tidied up all the file names and stuff.  And I just now got a copy of Repo squeeeeee.  Also I'm almost done reading Interview with a Vampire.  Yayy for French bloodsuckers with capes who sleep in coffins and DON'T SPARKLE!  I want to see Claudia and Renesmee Edwob Charlislie Jasplice Rosemett Mikssica Carlie in a fight.  Because I have no doubts about who would win.  And it would be glorious. 

Ahh my mom just came in with some Vicks VapoRub and, just to be sure I checked for the expiration date: 2003!  Jeez, people!  It's probably going to burn a hole through my chest or something!  Also, lol.

Actually I started this post with the intention of whinging about a certain amount of self-absorbed spamming that's going on at MdN and how it's really starting to irk me, but now that I've whinged about my ILLNESS I'm out of steam.  Maybe that's good.  Don't need to go around making enemies on the netz.

Also, can someone help me here? It is unacceptable for David Flipping Tennant to lose to that sparkly b*tch lovechild of Conan O'Brien and Rick Astley.

ETA: A final whinge.  Tomorrow would have been my day to see the Signature Theatre Les Mis with Emma before she goes to study abroad in Ireland.  Highly doubt I'm up for that.  And no one in a black box theatre would want to hear me snorting into tissues every two minutes.

January 2017

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