that moment when your boyfriend shaves his beard down to something small and you don’t recognize the newly revealed skin.
Bambi burping. How cute. Ohp! Apparently he’s taking a deep breath…
I do not chug beer. I do not drink beer. …But this is too fucking cute to not reblog. Oh god. Bambi!
Totally Scott & me. I’m just lying there like, “I know it’s going off, but he has to physically get up and turn off the alarm or he won’t wake up.” And then finally someone yells because fuck, it’s a loud goddamn alarm that he’s just trained himself to sleep through, and I kinda poke him.
(Source: animated-disney-gifs)
Too good and rather eerily accurate. I would given Scarlett an Irish Setter though, to better match her hair. But otherwise, pretty well matched. xD
(Source: mistermasochist)
Why have you made me love Loki? I was content for JUST THIS ONCE not liking the bad guy in a movie— I usually relate to them pretty well and I was bound and determined not to like Loki.
…May be because he looks and acts a bit like a guy who was a jerk to me and Thor looks like my boyfriend…
BUT I WAS DETERMINED.
Until now.
Now I can’t get enough of either Thor or Loki.
THIS ISN’T FAIR.
GAHHH.
Glad I’m seeing the movie again tomorrow with my ladies.
I’m getting help.
I’m doing something about it.
Because I’m tired of it controlling every experience I have.
For the past year, I’ve been driven into a state of anxiety each and every time I step into the passenger seat (including back seats) of a vehicle and someone else is driving. This has been happening ever since my car accident in February 2011.
For those of you who don’t know, I was in an SUV headed back to College Station from Dallas’s DFWCon going down a highway just outside of Madisonville at about 9pm at night (we’d stopped at Buckee’s because apparently it was a shame that I’d never been to one). Suddenly, a white dog jumped out in the road and our driver, rather than hit the dog, swerved going 75 mph to avoid smashing it into the pavement.
As a result of such a sudden turn, we nearly ran into a ditch so she swerved again, screaming her head off. All of this caused the car to fishtail violently and then finally roll over. Fortunately we landed on our wheels, but right in the way of traffic (though thankfully there was not much on this back road). We all sort of looked at each other, checked body parts to see if they were still intact, and got the fuck out of the car because other cars were coming and also, we didn’t know if it was going to explode.
Friends and policemen were called— ambulances were told to stay away because none of us were incapable of getting out of the car and so we did not want to fork over the bank for that expensive ride to a hospital. EMT friend shows up and checked us out— I’d hit my head very hard on the top and side of the window structure bar during the roll, so I was an automatic pick to go to the ER, but in the backseat of his car.
At that time, I was more zoned out than anything. I called my boyfriend to let him know what had happened, but evidently the reception was bad and all he heard was, “Scott it’s Denise…I was in a car accident…ER…” before our phones cut out. Imagine his distress.
The docs took a shit ton of x-rays because I complained about pain in my shoulder and elbow, from hitting it against the very hard door, but they were clean, and a CAT scan ruled out brain bleeds. Goodie. But I had severe cervical strain so I got a neckbrace and some vicodin. I was told I’d be fine in a day or two.
Nope.
Ended up going back to the ER the next weekend when my parents came into town because I was getting tunnel vision, still had a fucked up neck, my back fucking hurt like hell, and I was very…just down and my head hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before. Got told I will have recurrent post-concussive migraines. Yay. Awesome. Great. Fantastic.
Few days later I was still in a bad way with my neck and back and went to the clinic on campus. Bone doc cracked my neck and sent me to Physical Therapy.
Now, I’d been in PT since the beginning of the year for a recurring issue of a twisted pelvis— my flexibility and the stupid way I sit causes my hip bones to shift either forwards or backwards, depending. I’d nearly been finished with the therapy until the accident, and then my therapist told me that all our hard work had been undone because the force of the rolling caused them to twist…the other way.
I was ever so thrilled.
TL;DR:
Car accident, bad times, migraines and back and knee problems that led to surgery yay.
So I was driving the boyfriend’s car back from dinner because he had “the itis” (his term for feeling too full and sleepy to do anything) and conversation slid down to me revealing just how anxious I get when people drive. I don’t trust other cars for shit and am frequently anxious even when I drive (especially at night) and I cannot physically relax in a car when someone else is driving. It doesn’t matter that I know they’re safe and responsible drivers. Even if my boyfriend’s driving, I get very anxious and have to look out the side window so I’m not seeing what’s coming ahead.
I know he’d hit the damn dog if it came to it, and that’s not my worry most of the time— it’s what if something else happens. What if someone is drunk and we get hit? What if we get side-swiped by someone running a red light while we’re turning? I couldn’t bear to lose him and I really don’t want to get hurt again myself. I nearly flunked out of fucking school because of my inability to walk to class last spring because my back was so fucked up.
So now I’m going to the student counseling services. Scott didn’t know how bad it was— I was hoping it would just go away with time, but clearly it isn’t. I have an appointment for next week and I will keep it. I will get help. I will fix this.
I have to.
It cannot control me anymore.
I will enjoy road trips again.
I just hope it works.
Oh, xkcd! I have successfully managed to sing this all in one go, now you try! :D
I will point out that my major has no place on this comic. Buahahaha!
The boyfriend’s got an 8am final tomorrow morning and I can’t sleep, so I’ve ousted myself to Midland Colemania, as I have now deemed the living room, named in likeness to “Outer Colemania”, that being the garage-turned-bedroom wherein said Coleman lives. I was keeping Scott up despite me being very cautious about how I turned and the severity in which I turned.
I feel bad for him. Roommate Dave is coughing up a fucking storm at night because he won’t get cough medicine, and Scott is a very light sleeper. I slept awesome last night because I can literally sleep through tornadoes. Fact. It’s been proven. He’s super worried about his final tomorrow, and I wasn’t doing him any favors by making even tiny movements.
I’ve got one of the worst headaches I’ve had in a while right behind my left eye that, unfortunately, is not eased by darkness. Usually I can fix them right up with a nap, but when you can’t sleep…problem. Also, my chest is tight and my heart is racing a little bit— it’s calmed down from earlier. I don’t think Sobe, Manzana Soda, and Legally Blonde the Musical go well together.
Also, bright alarm clock and blinking phone + laptop light in a dark room = more inescapable irritation for my headache, so I’m better off out here in the dark with only the router light to keep me company. I hope he gets some decent sleep, and I hope I can at least get some so that I’m productive tomorrow and get my Dairy Science Final taken of.
Here’s to hoping.
Got impatient and just hopped over to the local walk in. Minor uti, but to hell if I was going to let it escalate into a kidney infection again. Now just waiting for pills.
Boring part.
And by this, I mean if you are at all offended by discussions of health, sex, and bodily functions, you may want to just skip this, because I’m not apologizing. :D
I get frequent UTIs and I…really fucking hate them. I do pretty much everything in my power to avoid them ever since one escalated super fast (within 36 hours) to a kidney infection that would have kept me in the hospital if I were an elderly person, according to the docs there.I haven’t gotten one since like, early January because I’ve been super cautious. I was drinking a lot of water, visiting the bathroom before and after sex, wiping correctly, using a non-irritant soap (dove), that sort of crap.
And yet…pretty sure I’ve got another one. It’s not as “FUCK MY LIFE, OW, FUCK FUCK” as the ones I’ve had in the past, so I’m not as worried, but I’m still going to see my doc tomorrow, which still really sucks.
I’m 90% sure this has to do with my lack of water intake lately. I’ve been sustaining myself on powerade and SoBe to keep me going during the day while I photograph wriggly kids in the studio I work in, but it’s still really fucking annoying. Between finals and my job, I don’t really need another one of these because they really knock me on my ass.
I’m actually tempted to drive down to the walk-in clinic nearby right now and just get my antibiotics. It costs a little more in the long run, but…I don’t want it to be worse by tomorrow because I need all of my mental functions when I take exams. :/
