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ysobelleWent to the doctor last night. The little bite taken out of my neck hasn't healed as nicely as it should, but it's not bad. Nor will I turn into a true blood-sucking freak, alas. I just need more Neosporin. The stitch is FINALLY out of my back-- oh, thank G-D! He still has no idea what it is. He said they might do another biopsy on some regular skin and compare it. He again threw the word "morphia" at me, and I still haven't been able to find much about it online. Then again, I haven't looked much.
More...er...exciting was when they reclined the seat and stabbed a needle DIRECTLY INTO MY FACE. Holy SHIT, that hurt. "You may feel a little sting, and a little burn" my ASS. That fucking HURTS! Until, of course, the lidocaine takes effect. Then my face is simply numb. So once it's all nicely numbed, he took some manner of cutting implement to this little growth-thing next to my nose and SAWED IT OFF. Talk about weird feelings-- havng someone saw something off your face has to top the list. But they put some liquid skin on it, and it's fine now. I think this may be the first elective surgical thing I've ever done. It may also be the last. We'll see.
Spent today fairly dully. Got some gorgeous fabric samples for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pikachette's new holiday gown. Spent $100 I don't have on pet supplies and sundries at Target. Fruity Pebbles and Cocoa Pebbles were 4 for $7. What else could I do?
Came home in time to chill out a little, and watch West Wing. Not three minutes into it, the phone rings. Of all the people. And he tells me he's going through the book I gave him for his birthday, and he thought he'd call to see how I was. I was instantly swamped with the vision of when, exactly, I'd given him his birthday presents: on my own birthday morning, in my own bed, after an all-too-brief, mostly sleepless night. Christ. But go me, I told him I'd have to call him back-- I mean, it's my only show!-- and we hung up. TWW was, thankfully, quite good. More than good enough to keep my attention pretty much locked in. I like where they're going with CJ and Toby's characters-- their rank is now reversed, and it's difficult on the both of them, but they ultimately trust one another. I don't like the Bartlet-as-Bush thing with the President praying with a soldier in a hospital, but I suppose I'll live.
We talked for over an hour. There were only a few awkward moments, and either he glossed them over, or didn't notice them. I survived. As we were hanging up, I told him, "You know it's still kind of hard for me to talk to you, right?"
"I know. But that's why we're still talking."
Emily, bless her, said something good to me tonight. I've been grappling for a long time with the whole concept of moving on. Part of me's been ready to for years, part of me-- obviously-- is having trouble with it. So I'm doing the online dating thing, and feeling some weird kind of guilt, but sort of letting that inner turmoil work itself out. So as I'm driving home in dreadful traffic, she says something along the lines of, "You needed to get closure on this so you could move on."
"I don't think it's total closure. I guess...I guess I'm just not waiting any more."
"Exactly. That's closure enough to move on with."
It's true. When Kayli died, getting over the shattering loss of her was separate from getting Clue. Ironic, then, that on the phone with him tonight, I mixed up their names-- something I haven't done in a very long time.
Well. My box from Dharma Trading arrived, and I may try to play with the dyes and the velvet ruanas tomorrow before dinner. It'll keep me occupied, if nothing else.
More...er...exciting was when they reclined the seat and stabbed a needle DIRECTLY INTO MY FACE. Holy SHIT, that hurt. "You may feel a little sting, and a little burn" my ASS. That fucking HURTS! Until, of course, the lidocaine takes effect. Then my face is simply numb. So once it's all nicely numbed, he took some manner of cutting implement to this little growth-thing next to my nose and SAWED IT OFF. Talk about weird feelings-- havng someone saw something off your face has to top the list. But they put some liquid skin on it, and it's fine now. I think this may be the first elective surgical thing I've ever done. It may also be the last. We'll see.
Spent today fairly dully. Got some gorgeous fabric samples for
pikachette's new holiday gown. Spent $100 I don't have on pet supplies and sundries at Target. Fruity Pebbles and Cocoa Pebbles were 4 for $7. What else could I do? Came home in time to chill out a little, and watch West Wing. Not three minutes into it, the phone rings. Of all the people. And he tells me he's going through the book I gave him for his birthday, and he thought he'd call to see how I was. I was instantly swamped with the vision of when, exactly, I'd given him his birthday presents: on my own birthday morning, in my own bed, after an all-too-brief, mostly sleepless night. Christ. But go me, I told him I'd have to call him back-- I mean, it's my only show!-- and we hung up. TWW was, thankfully, quite good. More than good enough to keep my attention pretty much locked in. I like where they're going with CJ and Toby's characters-- their rank is now reversed, and it's difficult on the both of them, but they ultimately trust one another. I don't like the Bartlet-as-Bush thing with the President praying with a soldier in a hospital, but I suppose I'll live.
We talked for over an hour. There were only a few awkward moments, and either he glossed them over, or didn't notice them. I survived. As we were hanging up, I told him, "You know it's still kind of hard for me to talk to you, right?"
"I know. But that's why we're still talking."
Emily, bless her, said something good to me tonight. I've been grappling for a long time with the whole concept of moving on. Part of me's been ready to for years, part of me-- obviously-- is having trouble with it. So I'm doing the online dating thing, and feeling some weird kind of guilt, but sort of letting that inner turmoil work itself out. So as I'm driving home in dreadful traffic, she says something along the lines of, "You needed to get closure on this so you could move on."
"I don't think it's total closure. I guess...I guess I'm just not waiting any more."
"Exactly. That's closure enough to move on with."
It's true. When Kayli died, getting over the shattering loss of her was separate from getting Clue. Ironic, then, that on the phone with him tonight, I mixed up their names-- something I haven't done in a very long time.
Well. My box from Dharma Trading arrived, and I may try to play with the dyes and the velvet ruanas tomorrow before dinner. It'll keep me occupied, if nothing else.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 06:19 pm (UTC)****HUG****
I guess it was what you needed to hear...
and I'm glad I got to say it!
no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 12:44 am (UTC)How'd it go?? :)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-28 04:06 am (UTC)