[Warning: Long winded.]
Okay, as promised... my exciting Saturday from last weekend. I planned to go for a bike ride out in a rural area of the state, maybe about 35 miles from where I live. The slight problem with this area is that there are a lot of gravel/dirt roads, and I have a road bike, so I parked my car at the end of one of these dirt roads where it intersects with the paved road. Picture a "T" – the right branch of the T is the dirt road where I was parked, and the other two branches are the same paved road – so it basically does a 90 degree left turn.
As I was getting my bike ready, I saw this car come screaming toward the left turn and slam on the brakes as she reached the center of the T. I thought he (turns out it was a she, I later found out) had meant to turn right onto the gravel road, but instead she backed up and continued to the left. About 20-30 seconds later I heard a loud "bang," as if the car had bottomed out or something. I honestly thought nothing of it – "Hmm, maybe the car crashed!" flashed through my mind, but only for a millisecond, then I dismissed the idea.
Anyway, a minute or so later I'm pedaling down the road where the white car had gone, and I saw it up ahead pulled over to the right side, in front of a tree. This sounds stupid, but as I neared it, I thought, "Well, he probably had to go pee, saw me and didn't want to go in the field while I was standing there, so looks like he found a place!" Seriously, that's what ran through my head. I have no idea why, considering the field on the left had a barbed wire fence, but that's the logical conclusion I had.
As I passed the car, going maybe 10 mph, I looked to see if the person was still inside (you know, to validate my pee theory) and didn't see anyone. Then I did a double take: the airbags had gone off. As I hit the brakes I saw someone in the driver's seat slumped over to the passenger side. Fuuuuccckkk.
I scrambled over to the side of the road, grabbed my phone, and called 911. Voice shaking, I told the operator that I was on my bike and "found" a car accident, and I was fine but the person in the car was not. As I walked back to the car I got a better look at the scene and saw the hood was crumpled and the windshield was cracked – she had obviously hit the tree. As I waited for the operator to transfer me to the sheriff's office, I walked closer to the driver's side and was relieved to see that the woman driving was alive – out for the count, but alive – and no blood.
While I was on the phone, a couple in their car was driving past, and I flagged them down. As I hung up, I immediately told them, "I'm fine, she didn't hit me!" (Something I had to repeat ad nauseam for the next 90 minutes). They turned out to not be of much help – I was really hoping for a medical professional ;) – so I went over and started talking to the driver. She was kind of in and out of consciousness and then started to panic a bit, so I told her the only thing I knew: "Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth." Then I asked her if she had any kids, and what their names were, etc... basically kept her talking and focused on something other than the fact she was in a car crash.
As I talked to her, I noticed her pupils were tiny pinpricks. The last time I fainted, the nurses told me they knew I was about to go because my pupils had blown out (sign of shock/dropped blood pressure), so I thought that was strange. Combined with the fact I had just seen her driving erratically less than five minutes before, I suspected she was on something.
About 2 minutes later, another person pulls up and gets out, fortunately wearing a volunteer EMT shirt – he lived nearby and heard the call on the scanner. I happily stepped away to let him do his job and waited for the paramedics to arrive. (And two fire trucks, and after what seemed like half an hour, the police.)
Once they had everything under control (she was actually standing up when they finally got her out of the car, so no broken bones or immediate damage), I was approached by a few LE people and asked to describe what happened. Meanwhile, a backup of about seven cars/gawkers had formed – why they just didn't turn around and use an alternative route is beyond me, because this road was a very small secondary road that you can access on another end – and once again, I had to explain that I actually came across the scene, was not involved in the crash, and she did not hit the tree to avoid me.
Finally, about an hour and half later, they carted her off, I wrote down a final statement for the cops, and was allowed to leave/continue on my bike ride, since I had only gone 2/10ths of a mile.
So that's my 911 story. It's funny, I've never had to call 911 before, and prior to that day I always thought it would be one of those things where I questioned my judgment later, such as, "Gee, that guy looks like an axe murderer, but he might not be... should I call?" Definitely, definitely not the case... this was "Holy shit, I need to call 911 right NOW."
Oh, and I later found out from the deputy that it was a DUI/drug related accident. Out of curiosity, I searched the sheriff's website and the local papers to see if it had been recorded publicly, but nothing's come up. I'm guessing this is a good thing?
Monday, June 17, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Headache, you can be such a headache, yeah
I really wish I had a good excuse for not blogging, but other than turning 30 (geeeezzzus) last month and getting bitch slapped with a ton of work ("Hey, do you know how to do this? No? Okay, do it anyway."), I don't. And I haven't even logged in to read everyone's blogs, so I feel extra guilty.
Yesterday I had a monster headache that just would NOT go away. I get headaches relatively frequently (at least once a week), although the frequency lessened a bit when my mom treated me to my first treatment of Dysport in December... The effect was amazing, yet horrifying – I couldn't frown AT ALL – and I think the headaches resulting from tension disappeared. But the sinus headaches, like the one that jumped on me yesterday and pinned me to the couch, have not. And considering the serious amount of rain/humidity we've had in the past few days, I'm not surprised – that seems to be my trigger. That, and being hungover.
I took 400 mg of ibuprofen when I got home, which did nothing. Then another 400 mg about an hour later after I ate something, which sort of helped, but I could still feel the headache's tentacles on the edge of my brain: "Just you wait, girlie... I'm still here!" Finally resorted to doing a sinus rinse and took Tylenol before bed along with a Benadryl just in case.
Fortunately, I woke up and the headache was gone... but now it's slowly starting to creep its way back in. Doesn't help that I just dug out an emergency tampon from my bag, either. Don't you all being (since everyone who reads this blog is) female?!
That being said, I said I would see a neurologist to try and get some stronger meds for when the ibuprofen/Tylenol combo isn't enough, and I still haven't. My sister gave me two of her Fioricet to try when she visited last year, and that stuff worked like magic, so I'm hoping that's all I need.
Anyway. I have more to share, hopefully tomorrow... this past weekend was VERY interesting, as I had to make a 911 call for someone. And I'm cat-sitting for my neighbors upstairs starting Thursday... the male cat is kind of creepy smart, so I may have some interesting stories about him.
Post title song reference: "Headache" by Weezer
Yesterday I had a monster headache that just would NOT go away. I get headaches relatively frequently (at least once a week), although the frequency lessened a bit when my mom treated me to my first treatment of Dysport in December... The effect was amazing, yet horrifying – I couldn't frown AT ALL – and I think the headaches resulting from tension disappeared. But the sinus headaches, like the one that jumped on me yesterday and pinned me to the couch, have not. And considering the serious amount of rain/humidity we've had in the past few days, I'm not surprised – that seems to be my trigger. That, and being hungover.
I took 400 mg of ibuprofen when I got home, which did nothing. Then another 400 mg about an hour later after I ate something, which sort of helped, but I could still feel the headache's tentacles on the edge of my brain: "Just you wait, girlie... I'm still here!" Finally resorted to doing a sinus rinse and took Tylenol before bed along with a Benadryl just in case.
Fortunately, I woke up and the headache was gone... but now it's slowly starting to creep its way back in. Doesn't help that I just dug out an emergency tampon from my bag, either. Don't you all being (since everyone who reads this blog is) female?!
That being said, I said I would see a neurologist to try and get some stronger meds for when the ibuprofen/Tylenol combo isn't enough, and I still haven't. My sister gave me two of her Fioricet to try when she visited last year, and that stuff worked like magic, so I'm hoping that's all I need.
Anyway. I have more to share, hopefully tomorrow... this past weekend was VERY interesting, as I had to make a 911 call for someone. And I'm cat-sitting for my neighbors upstairs starting Thursday... the male cat is kind of creepy smart, so I may have some interesting stories about him.
Post title song reference: "Headache" by Weezer
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Please don't break
Egads, no new posts in almost a month! Granted nothing super exciting has happened in the meantime (nothing ever does), but I feel somewhat obligated to write out some words.
I feel like everything I own is breaking down. Last month, my less-than-6 months-old iron broke. This was the replacement for an iron that was working perfectly well until the cord decided to fray inside and break. Now, this one turns on but doesn't heat up. Stupid piece of Black & Decker junk. Unfortunately I couldn't return it to Target since it was past the 90-day policy, so I had to buy a new one (hopefully a temporary one I can return) and contact B&D for repair/replacement. They haven't stated whether I have to pay for return shipping, but I sure hope not, because I'm relatively sure to ship a 34-pound iron is going to cost more than I bought it for.
Not long after my iron broke, I got a parking ticket for having an expired state inspection. Where I live, parking enforcement is allowed to ticket for expired plates/registrations/etc., so I was kicking myself for not paying attention to the fact my sticker expired on March 31st. I took the car in to be inspected only to be told it needed a new serpentine belt in order to pass. Rather than pay $$$ for the chain auto repair store to replace the belt, I told them to put the Fail sticker on so I could take it to another shop. (The Fail sticker means you get an additional 15 days to get the car fixed.) I bring the car home, park it in the street, and lo and behold, get ANOTHER "No/Expired State Inspection" ticket from the same person two days later. Better yet, they stuck a sticker on my window stating the car appears to have been "abandoned" because it hadn't been moved in the past four days and they would tow it.
I was livid. Given that the Fail sticker was in plain view and the original [expired] sticker was gone, it was obvious the parking enforcement officer didn't understand that the only way I could have gotten a Fail sticker was to have it inspected. Durh. Additionally, the car parked in front of mine had been parked there for at least a month without having been moved, yet there I've yet to see an abandoned vehicle sticker on that one. What the hell.
I guess I'm in a crappy mood because I'm turning 30 in less than a week and it's still stupidly chilly here. I swear the weatherman sounds gleeful when he exclaims, "Beautiful day, but temperatures are still ten degrees below average!" Thank you, Mr. Slick Hair, for informing us of the obvious. I want to wear shorts. I want to wear a sundress. I don't, however, want to wear sweaters anymore!
On the bright side, I think all this coldass, crappy weather will make me appreciate it more when (if?) it finally warms up. :)
Post title song reference: "Real World" - Matchbox Twenty
I feel like everything I own is breaking down. Last month, my less-than-6 months-old iron broke. This was the replacement for an iron that was working perfectly well until the cord decided to fray inside and break. Now, this one turns on but doesn't heat up. Stupid piece of Black & Decker junk. Unfortunately I couldn't return it to Target since it was past the 90-day policy, so I had to buy a new one (hopefully a temporary one I can return) and contact B&D for repair/replacement. They haven't stated whether I have to pay for return shipping, but I sure hope not, because I'm relatively sure to ship a 34-pound iron is going to cost more than I bought it for.
Not long after my iron broke, I got a parking ticket for having an expired state inspection. Where I live, parking enforcement is allowed to ticket for expired plates/registrations/etc., so I was kicking myself for not paying attention to the fact my sticker expired on March 31st. I took the car in to be inspected only to be told it needed a new serpentine belt in order to pass. Rather than pay $$$ for the chain auto repair store to replace the belt, I told them to put the Fail sticker on so I could take it to another shop. (The Fail sticker means you get an additional 15 days to get the car fixed.) I bring the car home, park it in the street, and lo and behold, get ANOTHER "No/Expired State Inspection" ticket from the same person two days later. Better yet, they stuck a sticker on my window stating the car appears to have been "abandoned" because it hadn't been moved in the past four days and they would tow it.
I was livid. Given that the Fail sticker was in plain view and the original [expired] sticker was gone, it was obvious the parking enforcement officer didn't understand that the only way I could have gotten a Fail sticker was to have it inspected. Durh. Additionally, the car parked in front of mine had been parked there for at least a month without having been moved, yet there I've yet to see an abandoned vehicle sticker on that one. What the hell.
I guess I'm in a crappy mood because I'm turning 30 in less than a week and it's still stupidly chilly here. I swear the weatherman sounds gleeful when he exclaims, "Beautiful day, but temperatures are still ten degrees below average!" Thank you, Mr. Slick Hair, for informing us of the obvious. I want to wear shorts. I want to wear a sundress. I don't, however, want to wear sweaters anymore!
On the bright side, I think all this coldass, crappy weather will make me appreciate it more when (if?) it finally warms up. :)
Post title song reference: "Real World" - Matchbox Twenty
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Reason #254 why AT&T sucks
I'm really starting to think I've hit a lick of smartphone bad luck. It started with my HTC's screen crapping out, then buying a new Sony Xperia only to decide that it was too small, repairing the old HTC to hold me over, buying the larger version of the Xperia only to discover I couldn't remove the SIM lock, then the HTC screen crapped out AGAIN, so I was back to my Nokia until I could find a SIM unlocked Xperia. Then everything is peachy-cool, I love my new phone (it has PURPLE lettering on the keyboard. How cool is that?!), its software is behaving and seems to be pretty sturdy.
I don't have a data plan and don't really want one – I'm glued to a computer 8 hours a day, and being unplugged from the internet forces me to actually interact with the world, so I have the mobile data switched off. It works pretty well, unless someone send me an MMS. Until they figure out how to allow us to download MMSes via wifi, I'm stuck with having to turn HSPDA/EDGE on, download the message/picture, then shut it back off.
Yesterday one of my coaches sent me someone's number in .vcf format... teeny tiny little message, all of 1 KB of data. I did my usual on/download/off routine, got the contact info, and went on my merry way.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning to find a text message from AT&T:
Well, apparently AT&T is really effing sneaky. Their policy is that any smartphone must have a data plan, regardless of where you bought it from. I assume they've been enforcing the policy by slapping data plans on people who buy phones directly from AT&T. Since all my phones have been bought from a third party and are carrier-unlocked, AT&T has no idea what phone I'm using since I haven't upgraded through them for 4+ years.
I was ready to call them and unleash some mild-mannered fury: "I've been a customer for more than ten years, this particular family plan was signed back in 2004 when there was no such thing as a mobile data agreement, so how is this possible?! Turn it off, or I'm having my dad switch to another carrier!"
When I called, I was ready to get angry, until the person on the other end sounded REALLY nice. I couldn't pull it off. Rather than give her a hard time, I fibbed. (As I've said before, I hate lying and suck at it, but I also suck at being a hardass.) I said that I had a Nokia (the last phone they provided to me), but yesterday I had put my SIM card temporarily in a friend's unlocked T-Mobile phone* to test it. Then this morning I got that message, and could she please remove the new data plan that was added?
*This wasn't a total lie – I had put my SIM card in a T-Mobile phone (my aforementioned HTC that broke), but it's now in an unlocked Xperia, not a Nokia.
Fortunately, she was very kind and removed the plan from my family account. I'm sure my dad would have been THRILLED to find out that AT&T did this without his permission, because he's the curmudgeony type that hates these types of shady-yet-legal practices.
I thanked her and hung up, happy that I was able to dodge the data plan bullet. Unfortunately, this also means that I'm going to be screwed when MMSes arrive. The only workaround I can think of is putting my work phone's SIM card in my phone (since work has unlimited data/text/whatever) if it's imperative. Until then, I guess I have to be the asshole that replies back, "Can you send me that via text? I can't read it."
Oh, and thanks, cellular phone service providers, for not asking customers' permission to do things like this. I'm pretty sure that'd fly over *real* well in other businesses: "Here's a piece of cake. You don't want it? Oh, too bad... you're going to have to pay for it anyway." Jerks.
I don't have a data plan and don't really want one – I'm glued to a computer 8 hours a day, and being unplugged from the internet forces me to actually interact with the world, so I have the mobile data switched off. It works pretty well, unless someone send me an MMS. Until they figure out how to allow us to download MMSes via wifi, I'm stuck with having to turn HSPDA/EDGE on, download the message/picture, then shut it back off.
Yesterday one of my coaches sent me someone's number in .vcf format... teeny tiny little message, all of 1 KB of data. I did my usual on/download/off routine, got the contact info, and went on my merry way.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning to find a text message from AT&T:
"Did you know a data plan is required for your Smartphone? We have added an appropriate data plan. Learn more at blahblahblah..."Whaaaaa?! That's absurd! I've had a smartphone for over three years on this non-data, voice/text only plan and have never had this kind of message appear.
Well, apparently AT&T is really effing sneaky. Their policy is that any smartphone must have a data plan, regardless of where you bought it from. I assume they've been enforcing the policy by slapping data plans on people who buy phones directly from AT&T. Since all my phones have been bought from a third party and are carrier-unlocked, AT&T has no idea what phone I'm using since I haven't upgraded through them for 4+ years.
I was ready to call them and unleash some mild-mannered fury: "I've been a customer for more than ten years, this particular family plan was signed back in 2004 when there was no such thing as a mobile data agreement, so how is this possible?! Turn it off, or I'm having my dad switch to another carrier!"
When I called, I was ready to get angry, until the person on the other end sounded REALLY nice. I couldn't pull it off. Rather than give her a hard time, I fibbed. (As I've said before, I hate lying and suck at it, but I also suck at being a hardass.) I said that I had a Nokia (the last phone they provided to me), but yesterday I had put my SIM card temporarily in a friend's unlocked T-Mobile phone* to test it. Then this morning I got that message, and could she please remove the new data plan that was added?
*This wasn't a total lie – I had put my SIM card in a T-Mobile phone (my aforementioned HTC that broke), but it's now in an unlocked Xperia, not a Nokia.
Fortunately, she was very kind and removed the plan from my family account. I'm sure my dad would have been THRILLED to find out that AT&T did this without his permission, because he's the curmudgeony type that hates these types of shady-yet-legal practices.
I thanked her and hung up, happy that I was able to dodge the data plan bullet. Unfortunately, this also means that I'm going to be screwed when MMSes arrive. The only workaround I can think of is putting my work phone's SIM card in my phone (since work has unlimited data/text/whatever) if it's imperative. Until then, I guess I have to be the asshole that replies back, "Can you send me that via text? I can't read it."
Oh, and thanks, cellular phone service providers, for not asking customers' permission to do things like this. I'm pretty sure that'd fly over *real* well in other businesses: "Here's a piece of cake. You don't want it? Oh, too bad... you're going to have to pay for it anyway." Jerks.
Monday, April 1, 2013
And I go at sleepy time
Yeesh. Long time, no blog!
I've actually been really busy at work (which is when I usually write my blog posts, in between spurts of productivity), so I haven't had a chance to read anyone's posts. Hoping everyone is healthy and sane. :)
Additionally, my unnamed sport/hobby that takes-up-most-of-my-time is back in full swing, so I'm leaving the house at 8:30 AM (really should be more like 8) and not returning before 8 PM. When I get home, I am so exhausted by the day that I barely have enough energy to eat some dinner, shower, and then zone out for a bit in front of the TV before dragging myself to bed.
Speaking of bed, I got a new mattress! A few weeks ago, I woke up one Sunday to major back pain and thought, "This is it. I cannot STAND to sleep on this mattress anymore. I don't sleep well, I'm always tired, and I'm getting much too old for this." I made a trip to a couple mattress stores, hated the whole used-car mentality of it (and the prices were absurdly high), and then decided to go to Sears. They were having a 50% off sale, which I'm guessing is permanent because no one wants to pay $1000 for a mattress. After about an hour of rotating between mattresses, I found one and bought it. And additional 10% off and no boxspring needed meant it was even cheaper than I thought. Yayyyyy!
I had it delivered to my house last Saturday, and schlepped it into my bedroom. It didn't dawn on me how gigantically thick the mattress until I threw (well, dragged) it on top of my beloved IKEA plaform bedframe. The thing is fucking enormous. I have to use the f-word there to describe how large it is, because it was so tall that it actually blocked my headboard. (Granted, the headboard isn't super high to begin with, but still.) My reaction: "Erkk!"
I measured the thickness of the mattress, and it's a whopping 15" thick since it also has a pillowtop. The old mattress was about 7 ½ inches thick. Big difference there.
Thankfully, I remembered that this particular IKEA bedframe is adjustable. You can adjust the sides to be higher or lower, as well as the rails that hold the wooden slats up. The slats were on the highest position since my very first mattress with this bed was one of those 4" high foam things. I tried to remove the pegs that allow for the sides to be lowered, only to find the previous owner had glued the pegs in. Oh well.
After reassembling my bed, I put the slats back on and tried again. MUCH better. Still higher than the old mattress, but at least this time I didn't need a ladder to get into bed and could actually see my headboard. However, it makes the bed a bitch to put sheets on, because it's nearly impossible to lift the edge of the mattress.
As for sleeping, I'm still in the adjustment period. At first I was afraid it was too hard – the one in the store was firm but the pillowtop was cushy – but I did some reading and apparently the materials need to settle and break in... which makes sense, since the store one has probably been laid upon hundreds of times.
So far, no back pain, and I think I'm sleeping more soundly. But I've also made an effort NOT to sleep on my stomach, which I'm 90% certain is the cause of it. I tend to take up in the early morning and roll over on my stomach, which feels comfortable at the time, but then I wake up feeling like a 6 year old has been sitting on my back for two hours.
That's about it for now... I did go a date with the friend of a friend, but that'll have to wait until next time!
Post title song reference: "Cornflake Girl" - Tori Amos
I've actually been really busy at work (which is when I usually write my blog posts, in between spurts of productivity), so I haven't had a chance to read anyone's posts. Hoping everyone is healthy and sane. :)
Additionally, my unnamed sport/hobby that takes-up-most-of-my-time is back in full swing, so I'm leaving the house at 8:30 AM (really should be more like 8) and not returning before 8 PM. When I get home, I am so exhausted by the day that I barely have enough energy to eat some dinner, shower, and then zone out for a bit in front of the TV before dragging myself to bed.
Speaking of bed, I got a new mattress! A few weeks ago, I woke up one Sunday to major back pain and thought, "This is it. I cannot STAND to sleep on this mattress anymore. I don't sleep well, I'm always tired, and I'm getting much too old for this." I made a trip to a couple mattress stores, hated the whole used-car mentality of it (and the prices were absurdly high), and then decided to go to Sears. They were having a 50% off sale, which I'm guessing is permanent because no one wants to pay $1000 for a mattress. After about an hour of rotating between mattresses, I found one and bought it. And additional 10% off and no boxspring needed meant it was even cheaper than I thought. Yayyyyy!
I had it delivered to my house last Saturday, and schlepped it into my bedroom. It didn't dawn on me how gigantically thick the mattress until I threw (well, dragged) it on top of my beloved IKEA plaform bedframe. The thing is fucking enormous. I have to use the f-word there to describe how large it is, because it was so tall that it actually blocked my headboard. (Granted, the headboard isn't super high to begin with, but still.) My reaction: "Erkk!"
I measured the thickness of the mattress, and it's a whopping 15" thick since it also has a pillowtop. The old mattress was about 7 ½ inches thick. Big difference there.
Thankfully, I remembered that this particular IKEA bedframe is adjustable. You can adjust the sides to be higher or lower, as well as the rails that hold the wooden slats up. The slats were on the highest position since my very first mattress with this bed was one of those 4" high foam things. I tried to remove the pegs that allow for the sides to be lowered, only to find the previous owner had glued the pegs in. Oh well.
After reassembling my bed, I put the slats back on and tried again. MUCH better. Still higher than the old mattress, but at least this time I didn't need a ladder to get into bed and could actually see my headboard. However, it makes the bed a bitch to put sheets on, because it's nearly impossible to lift the edge of the mattress.
As for sleeping, I'm still in the adjustment period. At first I was afraid it was too hard – the one in the store was firm but the pillowtop was cushy – but I did some reading and apparently the materials need to settle and break in... which makes sense, since the store one has probably been laid upon hundreds of times.
So far, no back pain, and I think I'm sleeping more soundly. But I've also made an effort NOT to sleep on my stomach, which I'm 90% certain is the cause of it. I tend to take up in the early morning and roll over on my stomach, which feels comfortable at the time, but then I wake up feeling like a 6 year old has been sitting on my back for two hours.
That's about it for now... I did go a date with the friend of a friend, but that'll have to wait until next time!
Post title song reference: "Cornflake Girl" - Tori Amos
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
Bend me, break me, breaking down is easy
I'm alive, I promise!
I went to Mexico last week for vacation, and it was wonnnnnderful. It was nice to leave the 40 degree freezingness and experience warm sunshine for a good five days. The only thing that would have made it perfect is less wind and higher temperatures, but I can't complain.
When I landed in the States on Wednesday, I eagerly turned on my phone to see if I had any texts or voicemails waiting. Turns out NO ONE attempted to contact me. I only told a few people about my trip, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have someone miss me! Feeling cranky, I posted the depressing experience to Twitter. To my surprise, D texts me: "Welcome back to the U.S., Lis!"
What. The. Fuck.
You ignore me for approximately four months, I decide to cut you from my life (in fact, I wasn't sure who it was at first because the text wasn't from one of my contacts, then I recognized the area code), and you have the nerve to text me NOW? I curtly responded to him: "Ha, that was fast." D proceeded to ask me a couple of pleasantries, I replied with the same degree of terseness, and that was it.
Well, dumbass me, I didn't delete the thread from my phone. Flash forward to Saturday night/Sunday morning. I got on the subway and realized that this was the stop where I ended my first "date" with him awhile back. I stewed about it, and my stupid tired buzzed brain says, "Hey, we can't lose now. Let's text D back and tell him how you really feel!"
Oh yeah. I *am* that stupid.
Actually, it wasn't too bad. I basically texted him one line, saying "Normally I'd never do this, but it's 2 AM, I'm a little drunk, and I'm mad at you." I also referenced the subway stop, but let's face it: he's a dude and never remember something like that.
I'm guessing he was an insomniac or hanging out in another time zone (aka with Jailbait), because he texted back, "Good -- you need to kick back once in awhile. I'm sorry. Be careful."
Me: "Really?? I am, always. I think."
Actually, sober me begs to differ on the last part (about being careful). Drunk texting someone you've been doing so well at getting over is not in the recovery plan! Arrrgh!
Fortunately, he didn't text back after that, and I deleted the thread, so his number is no more. But I'm still kicking myself just a little bit for breaking my resolve to stop talking to him. And I won't stop being angry with him until he grows the eff up and stops behaving like an irresponsible man child, squandering his life away. In the meantime, he's abandoned the website I poured so many hours into and broken a thousand promises along the way. I highly doubt that's going to change anytime soon.
On the bright side, my friend set me up with one of her friends, who's a lawyer. If he's taller than me, we're already off to a good start.
Post title song reference: "I Think I'm Paranoid" - Garbage
I went to Mexico last week for vacation, and it was wonnnnnderful. It was nice to leave the 40 degree freezingness and experience warm sunshine for a good five days. The only thing that would have made it perfect is less wind and higher temperatures, but I can't complain.
When I landed in the States on Wednesday, I eagerly turned on my phone to see if I had any texts or voicemails waiting. Turns out NO ONE attempted to contact me. I only told a few people about my trip, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have someone miss me! Feeling cranky, I posted the depressing experience to Twitter. To my surprise, D texts me: "Welcome back to the U.S., Lis!"
What. The. Fuck.
You ignore me for approximately four months, I decide to cut you from my life (in fact, I wasn't sure who it was at first because the text wasn't from one of my contacts, then I recognized the area code), and you have the nerve to text me NOW? I curtly responded to him: "Ha, that was fast." D proceeded to ask me a couple of pleasantries, I replied with the same degree of terseness, and that was it.
Well, dumbass me, I didn't delete the thread from my phone. Flash forward to Saturday night/Sunday morning. I got on the subway and realized that this was the stop where I ended my first "date" with him awhile back. I stewed about it, and my stupid tired buzzed brain says, "Hey, we can't lose now. Let's text D back and tell him how you really feel!"
Oh yeah. I *am* that stupid.
Actually, it wasn't too bad. I basically texted him one line, saying "Normally I'd never do this, but it's 2 AM, I'm a little drunk, and I'm mad at you." I also referenced the subway stop, but let's face it: he's a dude and never remember something like that.
I'm guessing he was an insomniac or hanging out in another time zone (aka with Jailbait), because he texted back, "Good -- you need to kick back once in awhile. I'm sorry. Be careful."
Me: "Really?? I am, always. I think."
Actually, sober me begs to differ on the last part (about being careful). Drunk texting someone you've been doing so well at getting over is not in the recovery plan! Arrrgh!
Fortunately, he didn't text back after that, and I deleted the thread, so his number is no more. But I'm still kicking myself just a little bit for breaking my resolve to stop talking to him. And I won't stop being angry with him until he grows the eff up and stops behaving like an irresponsible man child, squandering his life away. In the meantime, he's abandoned the website I poured so many hours into and broken a thousand promises along the way. I highly doubt that's going to change anytime soon.
On the bright side, my friend set me up with one of her friends, who's a lawyer. If he's taller than me, we're already off to a good start.
Post title song reference: "I Think I'm Paranoid" - Garbage
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