Matthew's Web of Lies: 2007

Monday, 31 December 2007

December 2007

Sick of it all.

5th December 2007.
I am getting very, very sick of being sick. And the warm weather isn't helping. Stupid phototoxic drugs and drowsiness that becomes unpleasant when heated.
The heat has had a surprise benefit today - it has masked the faint sick person smell in my room with the strong smell of baking parafin. A decorative candle I've had sitting in my windowsill due to lack of anything to do with it has metamorphosised into a blob creature (much resembling myself).
Last week I found myself getting grumpy at one of my friends for apologising for being a bad friend to me. I had a weird urge to respond along the lines of, go be happy I'm a shit person to be friends with anyway. And it's true, I am. All I do is complain about all the meds I'm on and how much they are messing with me; make not funny jokes about what pain I'm currently in; and share pointless anecdotes about the public humiliation of wherever I last fell over with an audience. Basically I'm a waste of people's time.
On that note, I've been attempting to spice up my being social (before I drive Alana crazy). On Saturday evening I went to Camilla's graduation/farewell dinner. I'm going to miss her, and wish I'd made more of an effort to get to know her properly as a person (rather than as an extension of Bridget). The dinner was nice, and I made with the conversation and felt like shit but made a passable job of hiding it - only Julie calling me on it. I was also weirded out thinking that someone was hitting on me, but that was probably just my drug addled brain messing with me. I got home and swore I as never going out again, especially not when already feeling a little off. So Sunday night, head already feeling off I trundled off to Bruno's birthday party. Yes, I am an idiot. I actually had a pretty good night, and enjoyed catching up with people I hadn't seen in ages (like Carla and Ian) for the pain it caused to be worth it, mostly.
Monday I lay in bed alternating between naps and watching Heroes and Avatar (Ian and Carla having given me some more of both). I felt like arse, so much of the day went to napping and feeling ick.
Tuesday, having mostly recovered from galavanting I spent the day at home blobbing and talking about nothing in particular with my flatmate, Tristan.
Today, after much lazing, I went to the English postgrad end of year function. It was fun, but again quite pain inducing. I may actually have to swear off gatherings.

11th December 2007.
Not much to say for myself recently. I've mostly just been in bed, sleeping or reading children's stories. I, in fact, just finished Pullman's The Subtle Knife. I should have read the series years ago, I think I would have enjoyed them more then. They are good, but I think I missed my window to properly enjoy them.
On Friday night I went to dinner and then the animated Beowulf with my father and brother. Best movie of Beowulf ever. By which it is still crap, but less crap than all the rest (well, unless you count Thirteenth Warrior).
Saturday I felt like arse, so wasn't too bothered when Alana had forgotten I was supposed to visit. Bed being abotu the only place I felt like being. Sunday was better. I swam with Meg and I went to my grandparents for dinner - where I was subjected to birthday presents and cake. Too much sugar.
My neopet is 2,800 days old today. For some reason this is depressing.

13th December 2007 - Lucy, V. and Mart.
Tonight I'm celebrating my 30th birthday. I booked a table at the restaurant and everything. A bunch of people have cancelled on me, but that is probably a good thing as I suspect I invited a bunch more people than I had booked for. My memory isn't at its best, so who knows.
Apart from that, my birthday is lame even by my birthday standards. I'm feeling rather mank and kind of wishing there was some way I could fail to turn up without people noticing.
I went to town today to get a haircut and buy a couple of things. Nothing I had planned happened, I ended up just wandering around and buying falafel for lunch. My brain is pissing me off.
Anyway, I should go see if my flatmate is out of the bathroom yet, I really should shower and get to this thing (I really hope he hasn't decided to take a bath - it would be inconvenient but not unheard of).

24th December 2007 - Vigil.
I just woke up from a nap mid-anxiety attack with only the vaguest idea of the dream that had brought it on. My brain is a worrying place. It then occurred to me that I've not written in theis beast in a very long time. Due to the fact I've seen Simon three times since I last wrote, it must have been about six months (while still technically only being eleven calendar days).
My birthday party was pleasant and reasonably quiet. Pretty much everyone I wanted to be there (and were in Dunedin at the time) made it. And I only almost fainted once.
Since then I realised that between being in pain all the time, and thus eschewing human company, and the phototoxic meds I'm on exacerbating my need to avoid daylight I have become a creepy shut in. It has become not unusual for me to go the better part of a week without actually physically talking to anyone beyond the mutual acknowledgements of existance exchanged when passing a flatmate in the kitchen or hallway. While this hermitage (shamelessly ignoring the meaning of the form and re-coining inappropriately from the root) is clearly doing things to my mental health, I'm pretty certain that none of them are good things.
I did go try to be social the Saturday after my birthday. I had been invited to three things that night and felt like crap. So I went to the welcome back BBQ for people I was glad had left, that way my feeling like arse making me unpleasant was only making me unpleasant in the company of people I didn't actually want back in my country. Thus I missed Lizzie's christmas party - being unpleasant at Lizzie and co. would have made me feel bad afterward. I briefly went to the third thing on the way home, but as a teetotaller these days the significantly drunken failed to make for engaging company and I ended going home rather quickly. Quicker still as a guy who recently upset my ex was there and I was having vague urges to violence. While my being overprotective of Tina and unforgiving of those who hurt her is endearing, being the same way about someone I used to date is sad and tragical. That said, it's not even a drop in the ocean of my sad-and-tragicality.
The week since I mostly spent at home, though did go to Oliver's work Christmas party (admittedly by the time I got there, basically everyone left I knew as most of the staff had drunken stumbled home already). Other than Bridget organising an open debate about my bad personness, it was a pretty good night.
Last nigth I went around to Simon's so he could put my new hard drive in to my computer for me. As always happens, my computers never behave, so I ended up leaving it to him and he dropped it back to me today. I feel I probably owe him more than the bag of M&Ms that I gave him in thanks but I suspect he'd prove reluctant to accept further gifts of gratitude.
I should go make dinner, otherwise I'm going to eat more junk and just end up sick before Christmas has even got here.

25th December 2007 - Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
So tired and grumpy. The whole day of family christmas has left me burned out and irrational (ranting, quite ungratefully, about crap at Simon - which he has done nothing to deserve. I'm bad people).
Too much family has pushed me into full crazy mode. Though I did get a lot of crap. Some good stuff, for which I am very grateful - but a lot of stuff I have no use for which just adds further clutter to my life. My life has too much clutter.
In happier news, in the gaps in my crazy sleeping pattern I have been reading Jasper Fforde (after years of people suggesting him, Simon lent me the first book and got me on the way). Damned entertaining.

28th December 2007 - Holy Innocents, Martt.
Sleep being disturbed by random insane anxiety attacks is becoming tiresome.
They started the night my computer was at Simon's. This was a good thing, timing wise, as otherwise I'd have sent my ex an email that wouldn't have been appreciated. Dream logic as a starter, followed by 3am anxiety thinking. By the end of it I had 'logically concluded' that every heart ache my ex has had in the last nine years is entirely my fault. My fault for having not been good enough. If I'd been too awesome to dump then none of it would have happened. Come morning, I realised I was being an insaneo. But at three in the morning it seemed pretty darn sensible. Since then every other night I've woken up with some irrational bit of dream logic eating away at me.
It's not making me happy. Not just because of the crazy, but also as it seems to be the product of pain (everytime it happens, it has been the pain rather than the dream that has woken me).
Maybe I need more drugs (though I suspect the vivid dreams are possibly brought to me by my friends at Roche).
Otherwise, not so much to say for my life recently. I've mostly been lying around home feeling arse and recovering from Christmas. My friends who I had planned New Years with appear to have changed plans and skipped town already without telling me. This may be an oversight, or they may be passing through again before the big night. I shall have to wait and see.
I did make it to town with eh plan of spending Christmas gift vouchers a plenty but ended up spending only the book voucher my grandparents gave me for my birthday (on DVDs of the first two series of Outrageous Fortune (ex-shortland-street-tastic)).
I should sort dinner, but lunch made me feel gross, so I may just eat a whole pile of raw pineapple. That's a healthy meal....

31st December 2007 - Silvester, Bp. and Conf. Middle lessons of the Nativity of Our Lord.
I don't know if it is the being sick or the meds, but yesterday I came over all embarrassingly emotional fucktard and in the process I think I managed to mostly piss off Simon (who, for reasons of being the only friend I currently feel all the comfortable unleashing that sort of crap on, bore the brunt). Upside, I think I covered my near breakdown rather well and made it mostly just come across as being a stupid mentalist freak.... Wait, I'm suddenly not sure how that is better.
I'm a tool.
Which is no surprise to anyone.
On Friday night my father came down to town, so on Saturday afternoon (after catching up with Michiel - in town for the very damp folk festival) I went to see The Golden Compass with Dad and Andrew. It's just not the book. And the CGI is a bit overdone in places it could have been easily done without. That evening I caught up with Oli, and now have New Years plans.
Yesterday/Sunday, I went swimming with Meg and then spent the day at home napping and being a crazy. Ah, the life I lead....

Friday, 30 November 2007

November 2007

My life having taken a funny turn.

"The trouble with a kitten is that when it grows up, it's always a cat." - Ogden Nash

2nd November 2007 - Com. of All Souls. At Vespers, Mem. of S. Mary, Mem. of S. Eustachius and his Compp.
On Wednesday, I signed the form making me not a student any more. The backdating still has to be finalised, and then, once it is processes, I have to convince WINZ to give me the sickness benefit.
Wednesday nigt was Halloween. I stayed in and my brother came around to play PlayStation while I failed to read. I may also have ranted about how Halloween night is a full nocturnal vigil in preparations for All Hallows. So Halloween festivities bump the venial sins of conspicuous consumption up to mortal sin status. That'll learn America....
Yesterday, I had dinner at Alana's while my brother helped himself to my room and played more PlayStation. Alana's bf's PS2 is getting well used while it lives in my room.
Today, I went to town and picked up a book I had ordered. I'm supposed to be going out tonight, but am yet to decide if it will happen or not.

6th November 2007 - Leonard, Ab.
I'm spending too much time alone, I caught myself talking to myself. I'm not happy about it, I'm not in a rush to be a crazy. Well, not to be more of a crazy than I already am.
On Friday night I went out. I was late, but turned out to be about an hour earlier than almost everyone else. I lasted a bit over two hours before coming home and going to bed. It was a bit of a waste all around really. Though I did help Oli build a halloween costume out of many rolls of toilet paper.
OKay, I was planning to write proper, but the screen and my eyes aren't getting along so it will have to wait.

8th November 2007 - The Four Crowned Martyrs.
Where was I? The weekend, methinks. Saturday, my dad turned up in the morning when I was getting ready to go to the pool, so he gave me a ride in in order to have a bit of time to talk to me before he headed off again. After swimming I went to Alana's to nap on her couch while she watched Hollyoaks, then I came home and slept. Sunday, I don't think I so much as left the house.
Monday, I spent almost the whole day dozing and feeling arse. The advantage of all that dozing is that i semi-survived Bridget's birthday party (only hiding in the quiet with my eyes tightly closed for a small portion of the night). And fireworks are worth a little suffering (stupid whiny fire-brigade (and possibly Progressive supermarkets), they should strap on a pair). I did pretty much pike on going to Sophie's party afterwards. I got there (as it was on my way home anyway), said hi to Sophie, went home to sleep. I'm such the party animal.
Tuesday, picked up some stuff from varsity. Didn't do all that much else.
Yesterday I napped all day so as to go to Transformers at a charity reshowing of the picture (to raise food for food banks). Turns out this was a very bad plan. I spent much of the movie with my eyes closed, but I was still in considerable pain by the end of it. Pain which has hung around like Littlewood ever since.
After a lot of sleep, I've spent most of today in bed with a pillow over my face. My head feels too small and any attempt to describe the pain in my eyes grosses even me out. So basically it's a happy day..... Also with extra weird headspace after my ex asked me this morning how long we'd technically been going out (technically, as more accurately it was a specialised form of avoiding each other entirely) and I realised I knew basically to the hour - followed quickly by the realisation that I didn't even know how long my more recent relationships had been to the month.
It's not a good look, and irksome considering how well I'd convinced myself that I'd moved on.

12th November 2007.
This thing really is degrading into a "what colour is my pain today" chart. Possibly a sign I should give up on it for the meantime. Being that no-body cares and I'm turning in to the kind of emotionally needy, fragile gimp that I believe ought be put to death. So the fact no-one cares probably isn't making me happy. Yet I would still rather that than the embarrassment of sympathy. I think my issues are fighting.

16th November 2007 - Deposition of S. Edmund, Archbp.
On Monday, after writing the above, I headed to student health for a second opinion. I got Dr George - who is awesome. While he didn't have much more idea of why I'm sick (or, technically, he had too many ideas and wasn't able to prove any one over the others) he did confirm that the meds my doctor put me on aren't doing anything positive at all, and may even be putting my blood pressure up.
In the time since, I've not done much. My brother came around one pay and played PlayStation. Otherwise I've mostly just attempted to read The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. It's interesting, but not as scientific as he is making out. I think I'm discovering why I've never been big on reading pop-science, I'm too pedantic about shit.
I've also been full of a low-grade anger at everyone. Some for actually slights (one of my flatmates swears he paid his share of the phonebill, but it's quite apparent that he didn't) and some just for existing.
I've mostly been avoiding people because of it.
I should be filling out my WINZ paperwork, I have my first caseworker meeting today and will officially become a bludger. I'm not happy.
Well, I have shiny new drugs - the same ones that Dr George suggested, so they may possibly be the right thing - and am now officially a sickness beneficiary. I don't, however, actually receive any benefit until after what will basically equate to a three week stand-down (technically a one week one, but it is amazing how technicalities can work out...). And even then it'll be paid the week after the week it covers. So basically, the money I was saving to finally get a hard-drive (the one I have is from two computers ago) is now going to be spent on rent and bills. Joy.
The good bit is that my new meds will make me drowsy and space-cadet-ish for at least a few days, if not a couple of weeks.
Is it bad that I completely understand the motivations of people who snap and take WINZ staff hostage? I'd never do it, I know they are just retarded and powerless cogs in the machine - but I still understand the impulse.

20th November 2007 - Edmund, K. and Mart. (Hmmmm, Edmund on the pentad of some other Edmund - odd.)
The new meds have helped enough that I can sort of watch TV. This has led to me getting pissed off at the shitness of whats on. Quite surprising as I'm finding myself entirely not caring about some things, I guess the meds are only fucking with some bits of my brains capacity to crankiness. Does my bum look big? is not only bad TV, it's bad a being bad TV. All it is is a fugly woman and her handbag sized pet homo telling people that they are ugly if they don't all try to look the same. I really have to not let other people hold the remote.... Possibly I'm just irked that the superhero show of entertainingly crapness has been bumped for a Justin Timberlake special. I mean, it's not like he's Fiona Apple.
Otherwise, I'm sleepy. I've spent the last few days either sleeping or wishing I was. I guess the threat of drowsiness wasn't kidding. Seems the phototoxicity wasn't kidding either, which may prove annoying.
Hopefully the insane amounts of sleepiness doesn't go on for too long, as some point I have to find somewhere to live for next year. I was supposed to have finished my masters and be all job getting so I could live somewhere I actually wanted to, but instead I'll be just another sad freak bludger scraping for whatever he can get.
Hmmm, this seems less linear than it ought be....
Saturday, I went to a wedding. It was my day off the old meds but before I started the new, which I decided meant it was my one chance to drink in ages. The wedding was great, but I got drunk off very little alcohol and may have made a slight tool of myself at the reception. I know I was hitting on a hot (far, far out of my league) cousin of the groom (who politely chose to take it as just friendliness).
Sunday, I started the new meds. Then went to the butterfly house at the museum. The fake rainforest was too freaking warm and damp. I felt a bit unpleasant. Several of the things landed on me though, which was entertaining (if only as Alana wanted them to land on her). Close up, and when rather large, butterflies have extremely ugly faces - leaves me thinking I should be more generous about my exs.
In the afternoon I was picked up by Lyall in a taxi and taken to Meg's birthday party. I was a little suspect at the generosity of the offer, I suspect Alana made him do it - though I'm definitely not complaining. The party was nice, though I was feeling a bit mank and probably being a bit antisocial. Afterward, I taxi'd back to Lyall's and went to walk home only to have him decide he had to walk me. I felt rather awkward and embarrassed about this. I didn't think I was coming across as that obviously sick (though again, it may have been fear of Alana rather than pity of my sickliness). Walking up the stair of Bank St, however, I suddenly appreciated someone being there. I had an attack of subjective gravity (my freshly coined term for 'dizziness' - one without the unmanly connotations) and was glad there was someone there who could call an ambulance before I had bled to death should I have spazzed out and fallen backwards down them.
Anyway, as much as I think the new meds are helping, I still have limits and as the unpleasantness is kicking in, I think I shall off and sleep.

23rd November 2007 - Clement, Pope and Mart. Mem. of S. Felicitas, V.
My meds are making me depressed, which struck me as odd considering how they were designed as antidepressants before they realised they were good for pain. Though I looked in to it, as I'm a med geek, and found that the reaction is entirely normal. The first week or two sucks for side effects, but afterwards I should hopefully just be a touch slow witted. At least they are helping with the pain, taking the edge off. Though everything else seemed to be getting worse to compensate....
In not-Matthew's-boring-health-shit news, I'm a shut in and I'm driving myself crazy. I'm being extremely cranky but not mentioning it to the parties involved about my groceries "accidentally" being stolen. Generally, it's probably a good thing I see little of my friends as I suspect I'm quite unpleasant to be around. Alana tolerates my grumpiness surprisingly well though, so I spent last night eating her mother's delicious food and faking being human.

28th November 2007.
In the first week on my new meds I gained 10kg. Admittedly, I'd been dropping weight (though becoming visibly tubbier) on the last meds. I think I'm now the tubbiest I've ever been, if still a few kilos below my dating Shiny peak weight. Stupid being too sickly to do all that much. With the pain in my head dropping back to the levels of about six weeks ago, I can once again feel that my muscles all hurt all the time.
I was going to write properly, but my and computer screens still aren't getting along and I've just spent ten minutes doing random internet crap. Sometime soon, I'll do this first and once my eyes and head are already complaining about it.

30th November 2007 - Andrew, Ap.
Public embarrassment, thy name is Matthew.
I managed to fall over (fortunately on to a chair and not the floor) after an appoinment at Housing New Zealand today. I feel very retarded.
I'm sure I had stuff to actually write about, as I kept meaning to do this thing, but now that I come to do it I can't think of what any of them were. I'm mostly just sleeping far more than can be good for me, and reading children's books (as my brain isn't really retaining anything or processing particularly well, so reading anything else would be a bit of a waste).
Damn it, I entirely can't remember what I was intending to write about.
Weird thing happened on the way home today though, I heard someone yelling abuse and threatening someone outside the supermarket. I was about to do the stupid thing and try to break it up when I realised I knew the guy being abused and the accusations seemed a little too plausible. Just because someone struck me as the sort of person who could grow up to be a kiddy-fiddler when I knew him ten years ago-ish, doesn't mean that he did. But did lead to me proving my bad personness by pretending not to notice what was going on and making myself scarce. So, I'm heading for the fiery pits of bad person hell.
I think I need a nap.

Wednesday, 31 October 2007

October 2007

Stress and snow and the evils of daylight savings.

4th October 2007.
I'd been doing a good job of writing in this thing for a bit there, and then I wasn't.
Last week I chugged at my thesis, went to soccer on Wednesday night, and to Stardust (which made me much angrier on the second watching) with Alana on Thursday. Friday night, after a day featuring a trip to the optometrist and breaking my bike, I got horribly drunk on less alcohol than one my size should be able to get horribly drunk on and embarrassed myself.
The weekend was mostly spent stuffing about as I was tired and headachey (not hungover headachey - just the other kind).
Monday, after a night of failing to sleep for reasons not entirely clear, I spent the day at school achieving bugger all and falling asleep all over the place. That evening I went to the Gold Awards and had a wonderful formal dinner and awesome foodness (while being a supportive friend - go me). That night my headache kept me awake and on Tuesday morning took the step to migraine. While migraines usually bring on fuzzy-brained-ness, this one brought on total confusion and delusions. I woke convinced I was having prophetic dreams through the pain. By afternoon, when it went back to just being a nasty headache, I felt very stupid. I'd prefer not to experience anything that close to somapsychosis.
Wednesday, I woke still feeling arse. Headachiness again having kept me awake a lot of the night. For the second day in a row I just plain didn't go to varsity. Instead I walked to south D, and picked up and paid for my glasses. My optometrist gave me a $70 discount, which makes me very happy. Though it did earn me some questioning looks from his assistant (who I think thought that I had 'earned' it (which is slightly offensive - as I'm clearly not a $70 whore, I'd never be that cheaply bought)). I then had afternoon tea with the Midget, Rachel and her tykes. In the evening I didn't go to soccer. I was really not feeling up to it.
Having new glasses has made me realise how bad my old ones have got. After only about ten minutes of wearing them, the headache had moved to a completely different part of my head and the weariness of my eyes significantly decreased. Visions got easier. Downside, I let my optometrist pick my frames and they are a little more emo than I'd like.

6th October 2007 - Faith, V. and Mart.
(Great Aunt) Lizzie (of my office) is a touch annoyed with me for not going to the doctor about the level of headaches I've been exhibiting this week. It's probably a good thing I didn't mention the pain delirium to her, or it might have lead to a full on telling off. Though had I realised how unwell I was when it was happening, I may well have considering spending the money on medical advice.
Otherwise there isn't much to add since last I wrote. I've had a pretty anti-social week. Piking on a party on my block on Saturday as I was too lazy to walk 100 metres to be sociable. Piking on soccer due to sleepiness. A quite Friday night at home reading and playing 'puter. I'm such a homebody.
On which note, I think I might get back to that book - latest Terry Pratchett, featuring Moist. I like the word moist...
Time I leave, before I embarrass myself.
Huh, I've been antisocial enough of late for Simon to comment on my uncharacteristic quietness. I assumed he'd have been enjoying it.

10th October 2007 - Gereon and his Compp.
Monday, still feeling a bit off I caved and went to student health. Their helpful advice, take painkillers and come back in a couple of weeks when they might have time for an actually doctors consultation. So This week has been spent slowly chugging at the thesis, getting nowhere. I realised today that two years ago I had over 30,000 words and thought I was about to submit. Now after all the extra work I've sunk in, I have barely over 10,000 and am going to fail. This realisation fails to make me happy.
And my supervisor today told me off for not writing fast enough. Which is true, but isn't helpful advice.
I've caved and am forking out the money to see my actual GP tomorrow - to avoid having to wait weeks for student health. Chances are my doctor will be just as useless but I live in hope.
Worst case scenario, I'll die horribly of something that could have been treated if they'd found it months ago. In which case, I smell a farewell party.

11th October 2007 - Nicasius and his Compp., Martt.
Soccer last night was not fun. My head was swimming and I felt very not good. Got some exercise though, and that is what matters.
Today, I went to my GP. 170/90 - highest since I've been on meds by a lot. Bright side, my doctor didn't weigh me or tell me off about my lifestyle of unhealthiness. He was too busy with the fact that I am actually properly sick. Seems the reason that I've been getting slowly sicker all year, and felt like death the last couple of weeks, is most likely a tumour in my adrenal system. So I'm having tests done to see if he is right.
I got the feeling from the way he put it that a tumour was the best case result - though I'm choosing this is purely from an ease-of-diagnosis perspective, and not a survival-of-Matthew one.
Anyway, it's not a big worry, or life threatening. It's just been making me slowly sicker and sicker for however long it has been there. And even if that isn't the cause - I've been assured I'm actually sick - I was a bit worried it was in my head.
I also had the weird lump on the sole of my foot frozen off. Didn't hurt at the time, no more than a little bite of discomfort. Walking home tonight, however, not so much fun.
And being that no-one who isn't me is the slightest bit interested in my health. Time I go see if cooling has saved my biscuits. My hopping on one foot baking hokey pokey biscuits has seen the recipe fail me miserable for the first time ever. They are just a bit mank and flavourless. I'm sure I did everything right, I can't see what I did wrong except rushing things a bit. And I'm sure freezer-burn couldn't affect butter that badly, or after only a few months.
My fame at baking shall be lost. How will I ever land a wife through my cookery skills now....
In funnier news, I had a chat to the guy I was accidentally stalking at a department function today. He even introduced himself - so clearly didn't think me some scary stalker type. I'm glad one of us had the sense not to let the paranoia win.

14th October 2007 - Calixtus, Pope and Mart.
Doing the urine collection, so they can see if I have a tumour or not, on the same day as starting my new meds to control the symptoms seems to be going very badly. I don't know that the collection bottle is big enough. Even though I'm avoiding drinking anything. Which covers my oversharing quota for the day.
I've found myself hoping my doctor is right. Sure, it would mean that I have a tumour but it would also mean I'll diagnosed and fixable. Otherwise diagnosis could go one for ages and I'm done with feeling sick. Time I got better. Past time.
Anyway, the days that have been. Friday I dressed as taking-the-michael-victorian as possible, even wearing my pinstripe suit pants. I got the the morning tea, and realised my effort was wasted. Everyone thought I was seriously attempting to be in theme. An orange shirt and a tie with a discoball does not say serious attempt. Honestly, some people. In the evening, after a beer at Oli's work, I picked up my now repaired bike and got stung with $250 in repair costs (creating a financial problem my father has kindly bailed me out of already). After dinner I headed back in, for a pleasant evening at the art schools end of year function. It was a surprisingly good night.
Yesterday, the doing-stuff-ness of the day before came back to bite me. I slept the morning away and did nothing more in the afternoon than watch TV with Alana, yet was still feeling utterly buggered by the time I started swimming with Meg in the evening. I came home after to a quiet night trying to watch The Hogfather with my flatmate, off a DVD that kept freezing up. We got through about 3/4 before the disc died entirely. Ah well.
Today, I'm lying about home reading a book and feeling exhausted. At least I went swimming last night, so there is almost an excuse for the many sore muscles I have going on. And I'm thirsty, but can't drink anything as the collection bottle just isn't that big. I really have to stop talking about my health. It's getting boring even to me.

18th October 2007 - Luke, Evan.
Today was the first day all week I've felt up to going to varsity, and yet I didn't. I sat by the phone all day expecting my test results. Instead my doctor's office rang to say they are being processed through Hamilton and may take a couple more days.
I've done no thesis all week, which is very bad. I've basically done nothing all week.
I did go to a seminar on thesis writing yesterday, however. It was pretty much a waste of time and aimed at people with very different problems to me. There was a lecture on I quite wanted to go to, but didn't last at varsity long enough.
Anyway, as I'm trying to not rant about my health too much, and I currently have little else to talk about. I think I'll leave now.

23rd October 2007 - Romanus, Bp.
Still no results. Darn Hamiltronian lab techs and their slowness. Darn Hamiltronians in general.
I saw Alana for her birthday on Friday, having a very pleasant lunch at Nova. In the evening I pretended I was awake and stuff through a department seminar and function afterwards - which has probably achieved nothing but making my supervisor think I'm faking my whole illness.
Saturday I spent the whole day with Alana. Lunch with Rachel and the sprogs, and then dinner of Alana's mum goodness. Before I came home, intending to play computer games for the evening, but actually being in bed very early.
Sunday morning I went swimming with Meg, and found that exercise on muscles that unjustly feel exercised already becomes unpleasant rapidly. I wandered very slowly home and spent the following day and a half limping on uncooperative leg muscles. Fortunately they were symmetrically uncooperative - so if I looked like a spaz, it was at least a symmetrical one. And for some strange reason that really matters to me right now.
Yesterday, I didn't leave the house at all (slight lie, I did go to the clothes line a couple of times and sat for a while on the laundry steps feeling disturbingly buggered by so little exertion). I intended to play Final Fantasy XII, which Lyall has finally lent me, but I mostly didn't. It's a sad state of affairs when computer games seem like too much effort.
Today, a bit of gaming, a lot of dozing and a trip to the supermarket for painkillers and chocolate which didn't result in the purchase of either thing, but about $30 worth of random other things. Not quite sure how that happened.
While I was picking up a bit at the end of last week, for the last couple of days I've been getting angrier and angrier at my stupid sickly body. Were my fate not tied to its, I'd destroy it utterly. Like that guy who pissed me off that time and whose body has never been found....
I'm about to go to a movie with Midget - that is if she turns up in time - and I suspect this is a very bad plan. Looking at the computer screen long enough to write this has me thinking fondly of curling up with a blanket over my head, so now I'm off to pay money to stare at a giant screen for a couple of hours....
Manchester, England, England....
I'm ranting and rambling - sorry.

25th October 2007 - SS. Crispin and Crispinian. Middle lessons of S. John of Beverley, Bp. and Conf.
Test result finally came back today, and said absolutely nothing useful. High creatinine (which I'm pretty sure wasn't even on the list of things to be tested for) but entirely normal everything related to the doctor's guess at what was doing me in. So now I'm just sick with no good reason again. Joy.
That said, after how many times I'd said it's not cancer, I should just be glad the universe didn't decide to spite me on it.
Anyway, I should go try and do something today - as computer screens aren't agreeing with me, I'll try the big scary Cambridge book on the history of medieval literature. I've had it out for a very long time and should finish the beast off so I can return it.

27th October 2007.
Okay. So the fact I'm not all tumour having is a good thing, saves me from an apparantly unpleasant surgery. Downside is that my doctor seems to be flummoxed and putting his head in the sand. Instead of more tests, I'm being put on some drug so new the pharmacist who filled the prescription got excited about it. And its not even approved for what I'm being given it for. Basically I'm not expecting much, and in a months time will go back and probably be given something else. My doctors current logic is that my "chronic cardiovascular condition" is causing all the other problems. The flaw I see in this is that it has got better recently (significantly so) while my symptoms have got worse.
Basically, I'm sick and grumpy.
And unpleasant.
Anyway, Thursday, after getting my results back, I was feeling not too bad and told myself that results finding nothing meant that I wasn't really sick and I headed to varsity. By the time I got there, the only thing in the world I cared about were the painkillers in my desk drawer. Hooray for painkillers at work. Even with painkillers, I couldn't look at the screen for long. So my day at the office was a giant waste. I had dinner with Alana and then slept.
Friday, doctor's office and then grumpiness. And a quiet night in.
And now this screen is getting to my eyes, and I am now not allowed painkillers. So this is me off.

31st October 2007 - Quintinus, Mart., with Nocturn. Vigil.
I had a meeting with my supervisor yesterday, who then went away and talked to the division. They want me to defer, and in exchange will look in to backdating it so that once I'm well I'll have a few extra months of thesis time. I guess I'm probably going to go along with this plan, though it means I'm going to have to go talk to WINZ as I'll be getting no more student loan payments with no longer being enrolled. I may have to become a sickness beneficiary, and will thus lose my high ground from which to mock my brother.
Yesterday, while this was happening (and possibly showing just how rational my brain is), I got a bit worked up about that fact I was getting kicked out of uni. Which, while not entirely untrue, isn't really what is happening.
Anyway, today I'm tired and grumpy. Dozing on the way to sleep last night I had a weird formication thing going on in my forehead, which I was enjoying the novelty of until it turned in it sharp pain. Like something being hammered in above my eye - though clearly on a milder order of magnitude painwise. Had it been something actually being hammered in the pain would have been nasty enough to grant the mercy of letting me pass out from it. Instead, I was just very unhappy and very awake. When I was woken in the night by a particularly unsettling nightmare, (which I'm suspicious is meds linked, as the new one is from a family that can cause weird dreams) in which I was riding an office chair home from South Dunedin and stopped in a cafe (which was where cycle surgery is) as one of my friends was in the window and then some guy started burning off his hands using the element on a stove (it was horrible and very much not how flesh would burn), the pain had gone back to the constant throbbing to which I'm getting quite acquainted. Getting back to sleep that time was slowed by my flatmates playing music at about four in the morning.
Anyway, time I go and be not at the computer.

Tuesday, 25 September 2007

September 2007

It's that time of year again - stress related illness kicks in.

1st September 2007 - Giles, Ab.
Too tired to write, but couldn't miss St. Giles's.
Time for crap novel in bed.

2nd September 2007.
Friday, I spent the day in the office trying to turn a list of ideas for my gender topic in to a linked and coherent skeleton argument. For this, I achieved sweet eff all. I gave up a bit before five and headed to Oli's work for their Friday drinks. After a very pleasant evening, I headed home to pick up my left-over box of flame (bought as cheap beer for my party in case guests came unprepared - and I'm a bit Scottish) and ended up chatting to a net friend, who seemed to be trying to pick me up. Weirder things supposedly happen, possibly. But I was expected at a party and I like to think I have morals. So no one-night-stands for me, regardless how drunk I am. I got to the party, and discovered party was the wrong word. It was a few people I know, and I few more I didn't (and quickly released I didn't care too either) sitting around a couple of picnic tables in the dark. Lame even on my scale of lameness.
Saturday was pretty lazy until lunch time when i headed to the beach with Oli, Bacon and the Irish guy to play hurling and kick around a rugby ball. The rugby ball proved a good time waster - and there was some entertainingly bad aim from the Irish guy as he tried to meet girls is the most shameless ways. After pizza for dinner with Oli I came home to de-sand and ended up just blobbing at home for the night, starting in to Temeraire, a pulp fantasy book Emily kindly passed to me.
Today, lay in all morning reading - having not slept well due to the noisiness of the weather. Then after lunch with Alana, proving my accidentally invoking her wrath yesterday (yes, I know, I accidentally invoke wrath from too many sources far too often and ought try to be less of a tard) had been forgiven, I hit the office for a few hours more trying to sort my chapter plans for Greg. I gave up slightly earlier than planned due to unpleasant smelliness in my office and slowly wandered to my grandparents for dinner, it being father's day and my grandfather liking the excuse to be glorified. Pleasant day, but not as productive as I'd hoped. Now I'm off to finish the book.

5th September 2007 - Bertin, Ab. and Conf.
I have just spent forty minutes on the phone to Xtra, and am currently on hold. First call lead to a long unfruitful chat to a cheerful if inept woman with a fake and implacable accent who redirected me to an Indian man who hung up on me. I hate out-sourced tele-ops. I'm starting to plan a socialist revolution simply so we can nationalise the phone infrasructure and use people actually in New Zealand to answer the freaking phones. Just had my fourth "Thanks again for your patience" of this current call. Soon I'll get another Indian who'll probably cut me off again.
Anyway, on Sunday night I finished the book. It was better than I had thought it was going to be, yet bad enough that Peter Jackson having the rights to film it doesn't bother me in the slightest.
Monday, I was in the office working away on stuff and got it handed in to Greg. Monday night I went to a cycle and was left feeling like I'd been kicked in the arse.
Tuesday, I woke up after very poor sleep feeling like crap. So I attempted to cheer myself up with a haircut. This just lead to the hairdressing pointing out that I've gotten a bit too bald to keep getting my same old haircut, and modified it. No-one has yet noticed I've even had it cut, which I think it saying something about its non-descriptness.
What people have been noticing is the unfortunate photo in Critic (which was clearly photoshopped).
Hooray, telephone Indian actually able to help got me sorted-ish...
Last night, again with the crap sleep. So today I'm feeling like arse and I have to go in to the office and redo all I'd done of recent days - Greg having declared it wrong.
The day in the office was extremely unproductive. I seem to be suffering fuzzy brain. Possibly from the several nights of insomnia. Stupid stress. At least, it is not as bad as the stress rash (boring on hives) that I had last week (at there worst on a day when I was feeling weirdly prettier than usual - my brain is a worrisome place).
Anyway, I should have tea and then try to get hold of Oli again. I really should know the phone numbers of more people on my soccer team, the relying on Oli thing may lead to me not making it this week due to his not being home.
Soccer was pretty good, if a significantly smaller turnout. I fell wrong in a tackle though, and now have a distinctly uncomfortable right buttock/hip-joint thingee-bob (I don't recall anything much of anatomy, I studied it eight years ago).
Since I got home I discovered the vain and stupid reason I've been not growing my beard back is entirely not that at all. And also that I'm completely out of the loop with a couple of people I consider close friends. I now have a driving desire to sulk about people not liking me enough to tell me about their lives - and the bad part is that no matter how much I say I won't, it is probably how I'm going to fill the rest of the night. Sucks to be me.

11th September 2007 - SS. Prothus and Hyacinth, Martt.
Thursday, of last week, I spent in the office. I had lunch at the Crib with Meg and dinner with Alana - after which we watched Wedding Crashers. Overall I pretty pleasant day. Until I went to bed and not long after my flatmates threw an impromptu party.
At 3am I became the crazy old guy who get up in his pjs and screams at his flatmates to shut up already. At some point I think I may even have politely offered to suffocate them all to death, if they had thought it would help them reduce the noise. In the morning I felt like shite. I'd had little over three hours sleep and just felt terrible. I come online before heading to the office and got asked out for lunch but a net friend whom I have been talking to for a couple of months. We ended up going out to Outram for a very pleasant meal before I volunteered to help with surprise house moving that afternoon. A little part of me is suspicious the lunch offer had been an attempt to recruit so extra muscle for the shift. After a few beers, we headed back to my place and split a pizza. The plan was to get nicely drunk and then head to town and go clubbing (possibly, seals (I entirely can't remember which of my friends I stole that one off)). At some point after I was good and drunk, my whiskey was joined by surprise prescription medication. The going to town was then doomed to never happen. Chemical sensitive me with lots of alcohol and unplanned drugs in my system - not a good look. I ended up just lying in my room feeling very content and thinking I had sunlight inside of me (in a metaphor way, not in a crazy person way). And then I fell asleep. Sleep being a wonderful thing.
Saturday morning was a bit weird. Waking from alco-sleep to a non-empty bed, even if it was innocent, was a new and not-entirely-pleasant experience. Otherwise, just weird. I got myself to the pool at lunch time and it was only while I was swimming that I felt myself actually sobering up. Heading through town afterwards I started to feel quite horribly hungover and generally gross. In the evening I went for dinner with Dad and my brother, which was all well and good until I got hit by the worst muscle cramp of my life - which left me limping out of the restaurant and cursing in the street. The evening was spent being token boring sober guy at a party with Oli and co.
Sunday morning I went to the museum with my god-daughter, her brother and mother, and Alana. It was quite nice. When I headed to the office to catch up on work not done on Friday, I promptly fell asleep at my desk. I headed home and stuffed about a while before I got invited around to dinner with Si and Renate. The dinner was nice and then I went for a nice long chat with Simon, during which my hoard of recent personal insecurity, mindless stress and nagging self-hatred escaped my attempts at bottling it all nicely up. Simon is an amazing friend when the mood takes him, he took it all in stride. He's like my rock (a statement that would probably make the psychotherapist I used to see cry). After letting me get it out as much as I could, he loaded me up with Veronica Mars season 2 and delivered me safely home. Maybe I should include him on my list of people I like there to be clone armies of...
Yesterday, still feeling weirdly tired and a bit sickly, I went to the office and spent several hours achieving nothing, though featuring a pleasant chat with Emily. I came home and spent the evening watching Veronica Mars, and for a while being entertained by Midget - whom I hadn't seen in quite the while.
Today still feeling tired and sickly. Less tired but possibly more sickly than yesterday. After the hives and other psychosomatic stress symptoms of the last fortnight and the going completely bursar on Sunday night, I decided to have a mental health day today. So I'm spending it in bed watching Veronica Mars. And I'm trying to make things up to Simon by not talking to him for a few days so he can have time away from my neuroses. I think I've been enough work for this week already.

12th September 2007.
I hadn't been sure if I was physically sick or just depressed. but this evening at soccer it became pretty clear I'm physically not too well. Could be a bug, or could just be my punishment for the weekend.
Too tired and sore after soccer to right proper. Will try tomorrow.

14th September 2007 - Exaltation of Holy Cross. Middle Lessons of SS. Cornelius and Cyprian.
Plegm lead me to the believe it's a cold and not just the mother of all hangovers.
Anyway, the week that has been. Tuesday's sicky left me feeling a little more able to function in the world. So Wednesday, I spent in the office, chugging away. On Wednesday evening I went to an inaugural professorial lecture on early modern philosophy, which was interesting and landed me free dinner. Then soccer, which was pretty good but - as usual - left me very sore.
Yesterday, spent in office, chugging away (though frustratingly unproductively). In the evening I went to Jocelyn Harris's book launch (anyone interested in Jane Austen ought buy a copy), and was cornered by the now retired departmental secretary/administrator, Muriel. People often told me that she was formidable but I never bought it, she was so pleasant. When she realised I hadn't submitted yet - out came the formidable. Turns out that she is quite a scary woman after all. She cornered me and my supervisor and gave us both a thorough telling off. I suspect my supervisory meeting today is going to be quite unpleasant as a result there of. After the launch I headed to my brother's birthday dinner at Filadelfio's, and then (full of cheese) home to blob out and watch Borat before sleeping. Borat, funny but not to the level that people had been making out - I think it would have been funnier in the cinema, with the mass hysteria thing going on. And humour high point of the night - my ex inviting me to third wheel at a ball, until realising that was how it'd have worked out and retracting said invitation. I was amused.
I should sort myself and head to school. If I'm lambing toward slaughter (less interesting than slouching toward Bethlehem, but the best I can do) I should try and be a little prepared.

17th September 2007 - Lambert, Bp. and Mart.
Some wanker stole the lights off my bike, I think while I was at the supermarket. I am not pleased by this development.
Friday went much less terrifying than expected. I think my supervisor was just as embarrassed about the whole affair as I was and didn't appear angry at all. In fact, he was quite pleasant and helpful - uncharacteristically so. I spent the day in the office, chugging away on work before heading to Oli's work to hang out having quite drinks with him and some of his workmates for the evening. It was most pleasant.
Saturday, I arsed about at home all morning. Went to the pool and did slightly less than enough exercise to make me feel like I was achieving anything and then walked to Roslyn (possibly Mornington (I'm not sure where one becomes the other)) for lunch with Meg and then wandered home. So I got in a lot of walking, and as such piked on my planned cycling for the afternoon due to tiredness. Had I, I could have had my lights anger then instead of now.... Anyway, I settled in for a quite night watching Children of Men and playing computer games as my normal bunch were off at Taieri Mouth at a party which I'd told them I didn't want to go to because I had stuff to do on Sunday (which was true) but which I was more importantly not going to as I'd not actually been invited.
Sunday, quiet morning was followed by a quick lunch with Alana before I spent the better part of the day in the office working away. At tea time Lynda gave me a ride to my grandparents' where the family was celebrating my brother's birthday yet again. But were I so appreciated...
Today was spent in the office, though not particularly productively. Seems I'm a bit randomly depressed and it is proving distracting - counterproductive considering the most likely source is thesis frustration. I'm also distracted being annoyed at my haircut off a couple of weeks ago - the woman at headquarters did a miserable job. I have random hairs of much longer than the rest hair all over the place. And tufts.
I should go play computer games, I think I'm pissing off everyone I'm talking to on msn.

18th September 2007.
I've put on ten kilos since Easter, a few more and I'll be back at my peak giant grossness of a couple of years ago. Though, being honest, I weigh only about one and half more than I did at Christmas.
Logic doesn't stand in the path of being depressed about it. So I got a giant thing of Chinese takeaways for dinner. And there goes that logic thing again.
Today was not constructive on the thesis front. Hour and hours reworking one paragraph and the end result was almost identical to what I started with, possibly even a little worse.

20th September 2007.
I want a Icelandic keyboard - then I'd only be missing one of the letters that I frequently use in my thesis. And when I am done with my thesis, it's allow greater medieval geekery.
Yesterday, thesis chugging. I wrote a little, but much loess than intended. I also watched the Johnny Lee Miller vehicle adaptation of The Pardoner's Tale. It was a surprisingly good adaptation, I carried the feeling of the original across very well - ie. it made me feel like I could be sick.
In the evening I headed home and got my bike, so i could cycle over and water dad's plants (I'm doing a shite job of looking after his house). The ride was actually pretty good, though I was a touch worried about getting home before dark (what with my lights having been stolen and all). I barely had time for dinner before it was soccer. I was a bit sore from cycling to truly appreciate the game. I'm not really fit enough for that much exercise in one day. Then I took a ball to the back of the head jarring my neck and pretty much making the rest of the night suck balls.
Today, I've been tired and cranky after my neck did bad things to my sleep. Thesis work, as usual, is frustration embodied. Basically, I've been generally unpleasant all day. I did have a very nice dinner with Alana though.

21st September 2007 - Matthew, Ap. and Evan.
Okay, didn't actually write an entry on this day - but it's St. Matthew's, it needs acknonwledged.

22nd September 2007 - no longer Matthew, Ap. and Evan. but merely Maurice and Compp. Martt. instead (I always pronounce Maurice the American, as it is written way - and every time my inner Anglophile cries in pain, saying "Morris").
I am surprisingly drunk and not entirely certain how it happened. Which is making typing quite entertaining. I spent a chunk of the evening at a party where I made the mistake of taking a mug of Campari, as it was offered to me. It was the most horrible thing ever and I ended up stealing a significant amount of Jagermeister from some guy called Steve-O (or possibly Stevooooo (the pronunciation was interesting)), who was very nice about it, just to get the after taste out of my mouth/throat. Never drink Campari (I think that is what it was called, someday I'll find out proper like). At some point afterwards I realised I was feeling very pleasantly warm, and that I was hard out hitting on someone who answers to the name Pumpkin (a name only acceptable when called by a father of his six year old daughter - from anyone except a progenitor it is just wrong, and even from a dad it is wrong when applied to an over ten year old). Not a good look, so instead of continuing out for a night on the town I have come home early to get some sleep.
Fire truck, I just stabbed myself in the chin with the stick of my ice cream. Ow. And spelt fire truck with a surprising abundance of J's.
I'm supposed to be at Backstage listening to Hey Man, but I'm at home in my room about to go to bed.
I feel very warm. Which is weird as I'm all damp and gross from walking home in the rain. I didn't have to walk up my hill though as when I bought my ice cream at the Willowbank I bumped in to my dad, who was buying hot chips, and landed a ride home. Reduced moistness is all good - in this context, at least.
And some guy at the pool today seemed to think I was stalking him - which was entirely unfair, it's not my fault he seems to turn up everywhere I am - but he was clearly giving me a look which I'm taking to mean something along the lines of "stay away you creepy psycho". If I was going to be a stalker, I'd at least find out who i was stalking first. I'm pretty sure that's an essential part of the ettiquette (I think I put too many tees in that).
I should sleep, I suspect I'll be embarrassed enough about this in the morning as is - and I have that whole stupid policy about not removing crap from this thing.....

23rd September 2007 - Thecla, V., not Mart.
Wow, drunkenness makes me positively linear.....
Not the most productive thesis day. I went for lunch with my father and brother and ended up going to see Stardust. It is really not the book, but it is a pleasant watch. Then after lunch of bad asian food, I headed to the office. I was there about half an hour - which was mostly setting up and getting in to the head space sort of time, when my brother turns up as it seems I was expected at my grandparents. The joy of family.

25th September 2007 - Firminus, Bp. and Mart.
Found out yesterday that my suspicions of being thought a stalker were probably just paranoia.
Otherwise not all the much to say for the last couple of days. Thesis work going nowhere due to being a little bit under the weather. I'm hoping my optometrists appointment on Friday, and subsequent new glasses, will reduce how often I get debilitating level headaches.
Sickliness, so overrated...
I did have lunch with Alana yesterday, and spent last, and pretty much all of this, evening reading Paul J McAuley's Confluence books. They should fill my evenings and keep me mostly off the computer for the week.
That said, in the tiny amount of time I've spent online I still seem to have entirely fucked off one of my friends, and I can't work out how I actually did it. Part of me thinks it could just be the fact of my existence.

Thursday, 30 August 2007

August 2007

We hates being sick, it crankifies us.

8th August 2007 - Ciriacus and his Compp. Martt.
Still being sick is very annoying.
In happier news, I got a $300 tax rebate, and blew it all at the 25% of DVDs sale at Whitcoulls. I now have Battlestar Galactica, Angel and a pile of movies to entertain myself with.
DVDs are helpful when I'm still a little uprightness-challenged. Inner ears are my proof against intelligent design. Every time I lean my head I feel like I'm falling, and sometimes even when I am still gravity goes dancing around. On Monday I thought I was well, then Tuesday bit me. Today I'm a bit better than yesterday but still not happy.
My narrative is sucking monkeys today. Big hairy, smelly, ugly monkeys with bad skin and questionable hygiene practices.
On Friday night last my flatmates threw a party. Didn't lead to much. Liesl had one guest, and for most of the night I had Meg, and that was it. Later in the night a few more of my friends turned up before we gave up and headed to a party at Fiona's (gings are great). Made for a pretty night, though I came home to be filled with rage. My flatmates had drunkenly decided to help themselves to stuff from my room while I was out, including going for a ride on my father's bike. I have issues enough about people interferring with my property. When it comes to other people's property in my care (especially property I could never afford to replace), I get even crankier.
My cranky-level probably hasn't been helped by my weeks of headache and buggered balance.

There are two kinds of dogs, for, some are well-bred, others low-bred. The well-bred, indeed, are silent and free from guile; the low-bred are ill-tempered and fond of barking. So it is with women...

17th August 2007 - Oct. of S. Laurence.
Having finally got mostly well, my flatmates infected me with a nasty chest cough and I've spent most of this week and home fighting with phlegm. I hate everyone. Especially you.
Had a reasonably productive work day yesterday, but today my ear is playing up again and I feel like arse. Attempts to cheer myself up my impulse purchases of castle Lego failed. It had seemed such a sure-fire plan.
Not all that much to write about, being home sick watching Angel doesn't really make for an exciting narrative. And I'm trying to resist unleashing too much anti-flatmate vitriol on this thing, for politeness's sake...
I'm becoming such an angry little man, if I was any more of one I'd be Simon.... Wait, I didn't say that...
Today's quote is from the 13th century Speculum Laicorum.

I know that mess spelled backwards is ssem and I felt much better armed with the information

18th August 2007 - Agapitus, Mart.
Exciting night on the home front last night. After deciding I needed a quiet one in it was livened up by a violent domestic between my flatmate's ex and the bathroom door - which he was trying to smash in for no logical reason. Then at 3:30 in the morning he broke in to out flat and started smashing up her room.
Have I mentioned be entirely done living with other people. I want to be a hermit.
And on the social life front, I'm almost there. Can't get hold of Oli and I seem to have pissed Simon off somehow. It's like I'm a superhero, if there was a superhero whose power is to unintentionally grant on the nerves of all of his friends so that no-one wants anything to do with him. I have that superpower down, seriously.
The high point of my being social for the day will be having dinner with my father. Though I did go swimming with Meg, which rates but loses social activity points for being all like hard work. I've lost what little fitness I had through being all sick for the last month. It's shocking.
The weird depression that struck yesterday, as you may have guessed from the entry so far, continues. And again I bought Lego I couldn't really afford in the attempt to cheer myself up. It works while I'm building the thing, but once it is built all benefit is gone - and Lego these days is too darn idiot-proof and easy to build. So basically it was a complete waste. Bugger it.
Today's quote is from Tori Amos's introduction to Death: The High Cost of Living.

23rd August 2007 - SS. Timotheus and Apollinaris.
I am very sore. I went to soccer last night for the first time in over a month, and I was on fire. I had a good long stint in goal at the start and didn't let a single thing through, and even if defence I was getting the other team pissed off through excessive goal prevention. It was awesome. Though lead to masses of pain this morning.
Anyway, week that has been so far. Grandparent dinner on Sunday, after an unproductive day in the office distracted by the most watched videos of the day on youtube (which may not be happening again now that youtube is pumping up the advertising content). Monday, I had a good supervisory meeting, and have finally landed weekly supervisor meetings. Then ended up watching Hot Fuzz with Alana and Lyall. Great flick. Thank God for the English. Actually, every movie I've seen in a while has been with Lyall and Alana - being I went to both film festival movies I saw with them (Den Brysomme Mannen, which was Norwegian and weird and disconcerting but sort of good, and Death at a Funeral, which was hilarious and worth seeing purely for entertainment value). Tuesday, reading a book recommended by my supervisor. Wednesday echoes Tuesday but with added soccer.
I want a t-shirt with "Baby" screen-printed on it and an arrow pointing down to my belly, so I can write "Dyke" in vivid pen and have an arrow pointing to my face. Probably also needs the button badge reading "I choose to have this baby, but I'm glad I had the choice". It would mark my fanboyness to a few people, but mostly it would just confuse people - which would make it great.

26th August 2007.
Today was seriously wasted. I spent it in the office entirely failing to get anywhere in the work I'm doing. Even staying in till about 9 at night. Procrastinating, and then procrastinating some more. Started off pretty funny though. I was hanging my towel on the over the top of my bedroom door, oblivious to what is going on behind me when I hear this girlish noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeal. I'm a bit confused bu this, as the flat girl is away for the break (which I didn't know was happening until she skipped town, I'm completely out of the undergrad loop). I turned around to discover one of my flatmates had come out of the bathroom in his underwear and had found my standing in my doorway quite the unpleasant surprise. Where as, I was just amused at how easily he'd lost all his manliness points.
Anyway, since I last wrote. Thursday, was spent in the office entirely failing to write the same thing I spent Friday and today failing to write. In the evening, I had dinner with Alana and Mike before going to Allen Hall to see a play Mike's brother was in. The result was unfortunately school play like. In fact, it made me remember Denise Walsh quite foundly, she'd never have let anything quite so blantantly amatuer on her stage without, at least, yelling at everyone involved first. Friday, office as previously mentioned followed by work drinks at the Ministry of Health (thanks to Oli), dinner with my father and brother, a gig at Backstage (Neave has a very pretty voice - though I'm pretty sure she finds me intolerably creepy), more work drinks at MoH, and then a kegger to finish off the night. Saturday, I went to a bike ride to Forrester Park, but was completely buggered by the time I got almost there so just turned about and coasted home (turns out the valley has a lot more slope along it that I'd guessed). I then spent the afternoon with Alana, wandering down to Chingford and enjoying the lovely weather while my washing dried nicely at home.

27th August 2007 - Rufus, Mart.
Very vivid weird dreams have lead to me feeling tired and cranky today (it's not even like I ate cheese or took hallucinagenics before going to bed). And I still feel like I've been kicked in the arse after Saturday's cycling efforts. Today shall be unpleasant, especially to those who have to be around me.

28th August 2007 - Augustine, Bp. and Doct.
Arse. While I was in the shower it started raining, so my basically dry washing now isn't. Stupid freaking spring weather.
Yesterday morning I spent blind panicking, until noon when I handed over what I had and had lunch before my supervisorial meeting. The meeting didn't go well. Basically my supervisor thinks I'm a retard and has given me today to rewrite everything I've spent the last week panicking over in an attempt to prove I'm not too stupid to live. I don't see me passing this test. It is putting my blood pressure up interestingly, I have pokey out blood vessels of creepiness.
My plan for today, stress like a crazy while hating gender theory with a fiery passion, and hoping my eye balls don't explode out of my head.
My eyes survived the day still inside my head. Though they don't seemed convinced that that was a good plan - there is some pain going down in my face. Stupid blood pressure and stupid feeble human body.
Stree levels were high most of the day - except for lunch with Catriona, which was very beneficial to not exploding. I got a couple fo pages written, which is about a third what my supervisor seemed to think I could magic out of the air in the time. At five I decided if I stayed any longer I'd end up raving like a loon or chucking - it could go either way, or both.
On the way home I passed Simon, which had I been feeling even the tiniest bit people friendly would have been awesome but as I wasn't lead to me probably coming off as a complete cunt. But he's known me for years, so will just assume I come across that way because I am that way.
I got chippies on the way home, had a chat to Alana and then got invited out to a party dinner. I was quite glad I'd already et, so could get out of it without needing to warp the truth. Really not people friendly.

30th August 2007 - SS. Felix and Adauctus, Martt.
I'm limping, which must mean it is Thursday.
Yesterday morning I had a fantastic meeting with my supervisor. He gave compliments. I came close to asking who he was and what he had done with my real supervisor. It was like my supervisor was having an attack of "real" supervisor. Basically, it led to yesterday being awesome. I know what I was doing, and the day was reasonably productive.
In the evening I delivered Battlestar Galactica to my family, as they wanted it (and I needed to use an iron to get wax out of my Kalamazoo t-shirt (which was partially successful)) and went to soccer. Soccer was awesome. Maree (I suck a Scots/Inglisc spelling) has brought along a bunch of her friends, and we got a tennis player with the court. Lots of new people, one of whom was disturbing what I go for (which is distracting occasionally), made for a good game. I think we maxed out at ten a side for a bit, which I'm pretty sure is the most people we've ever had.
Slightly disturbed. Multiple people have already commented on reading the above. I'm not supposed to have multiple readers in the same day. It is just not right.
Today was not too productive. I've mostly worked out the bones of my chapter argument but arranging them in to a skeleton isn't working so well. Off to Alana's for dinner soon, I suspect it'll awesome - possibly even too school for cool (and no, I have no idea what that is supposed to be implying).

Tuesday, 31 July 2007

July 2007

Winter: It's not the Canadian Summer I ought be having

3rd July 2007.
Last week, I water balance was doing something crazy. Weight yo-yoing 5kgs from day to day. Probably not a healthy look, though did coincide with a lot of people (well, ladies) commenting on how young I was looking with the shaven look. I'd been shaven for weeks without anyone saying I looked young, I think young requires shaven and weird water retention puffiness to iron out the wrinkles of age. Either that, or the outbreak of pimples I was suffering had shaved years off my apparent age.
My typing has been absolutely crap recently. I'm wondering if it was the month overseas (and mostly away from keyboards) or if my brain is just turning to putty. Possibly with early onset Alzheimer's disease.
Otherwise my week has been pretty uninteresting. Except in the weekend when I went swimming with Meg, before a day of drinking and socialising and pretending to be a normal human at Fiona and Johann's housewarming. Made for a great Saturday all up, even if I've felt like arse ever since. Lost sleep is not something I make up easily.
On the way to varsity yesterday I passed the local synagogues and they had signs up to keep parks cleared for a funeral inside. And while I was passing a car pulls up right in the very centre of the blocked up parks. Two asian girls got out and walked to a student flat. The driver got out and sneared at the signs before following the girls in. Part of my brain thought "and that is where the racial stereotypes that feed racism come from" and a louder part of my brain filled with rage. The sheer disrespectfulness of it made me so angry. For the first time in my life I found myself compelled to tell someone to go back to their own country, but managed to refrain. Just. Realising that I was a hairs breadth from committing hate crimes, I scowled at them and walked away. Looking back, hate crimes might have been worth it. I'm becoming an angry old man, but you just don't disrespect other peoples grief that way. That they are Jews doesn't reduce their peopleness in any way, but that sort of behaviour makes certain individual students seem considerable less people (look how I refrained from anti-Asian sentiment, I deserve a prize...).
I realised this evening that I've been depression eating for the last few days - though I hadn't thought I was depressed. Maybe I'm just eating out of some weird new junkfood related neuroses. Maybe it's just anxiety. Heart disease and early death, here I come.
And, interesting note on the sanity front. I've been washing all my own dishes both before and immediately after use. Due to not wanting to contribute to the kitchen mess and due to not trusting my flatmates ability to wash. I've recently also taken to rewashing their dishes, especially when they have used stuff I own. The poor cleanliness is bugging me a lot. And while part of me wouldn't mind the flat population being thinned by an outbreak of pestilence, the thought that my mugs are being put away insufficiently cleaned pains me.
And my annoying flatmate is still making snide comments about how she thinks she is doing all the housework and that I'm not pulling my weight. I hate people. I should have stuck with the life sciences - I could be well towards depeopling the world by now...

20th July 2007 - Margaret, V. and Mart.
I've just spent pretty much a week in bed sick. Today is the 24 hour booksale and I'm pretty sure I'm still too sick. I'd just end up falling over and getting trampled to death my vicious old ladies.
The day after writing the above, I cleaned all the kitchen tops and the stove top, mad everything look less gross as the grossness was bugging me and then went out to dinner. The next morning I got up for breakfast and was met by an angry flatmate with "I wish people would clean up there own mess" and significant glares from me to the complete mess of the kitchen of which I had played absolutely no part. I'm officially over living with people. As soon as I have a job, I'm off to become a crazed hermit living alone. Insanity is hot, right? And chicks dig loners...
My feeling about flatting are not helped by how noisy said flatmate is being today. Loud sex and loud music coming through multiple walls to generally keep me irked.
I should write proper, after all the slackness, but it'll not happen today. Being upright isn't exactly agreeing with me.

31st July 2007 - Germanus, Bp. and Conf.
Well, I'm still a bit sick. It's irksome. I thought I'd come right on Friday, but then had a fun weekend and discovered I was kidding myself when the relapse kicked in on Monday (yesterday).
A chunk of last week I spent at varsity, sharing the sick around. But achieving absolutely nothing. Always a good look.
The weekend immediately after the last entry, I went with Midget and Katie to get Harry Potter the morning it came out. Sad, I know, but if I wasn't a geeky fanboy then I would be nothing at all. I got home and read the book pretty much in one go. This turned out to be a bad thing, as it messed with my sleep and was far from helpful on the being sick front.
The weekend since, was Oli's 27th birthday trip. It was fucking fantastic. The ice on the Ida was thick enough we could walk the whole length of the lake, the first time I've done that in my many years going to Oturehua. In fact, it was probably worth relapsing for.
I should go sleep, I ought go to varsity tomorrow, I've not in a while. And I've been getting cranky at people - which, weirdly, is making me appreciate a couple of my friends a whole lot more.

Wednesday, 27 June 2007

June 2007

There and back again

12th June 2007 - SS. Basilidies, Cyrinus, and Nabor.
Okay, the last month is pretty covered in the travel-blog, though I do intend to flesh some bits out on here. But not tonight. I'm tired, sleeping at the right times is still proving problematic. Just writing this so anyone to slack to have checked the other will know I'm alive, or some equally pointless reason.

19th June 2007 - SS. Gervasius and Protasius.
It is freaking cold. My goosepimples have goosepimples.
Dunedin since I have been back has followed cold with cold.
I know I should flesh out my trip, but I have that whole other blog that covers it quite as well as anything my memory could muster this long afterward could. Old age is making me retarded.
I did discover I have an unwitting attraction to aussies. The two times, on my trip, that I thought "now there is someone I'd like to be naked and horizontal with - right now" the prospective victims turned out to be Aussies. I think they may even both have been Melbournites - one fo philologist at Kalamazoo the other a tourist up the CN Tower. It was disturbingly creepy - I loathe the Australian people, the universe is taunting me.
Since I got back to Dunedin, I've been out to be social once. A quite nice party at Camilla's where I discovered the joke I thought I was the punchline of before I left was actually a joke on me - I was victim, not punchline - which would be a good thing were not for the context. Actually, even with the context "go me and not being the joke people play on people"....
I was about to say I spent last week being anti-social, but then realised I spent Tuesday evening attempting to entertain Simon but mostly just adding to his stress levels and Thursday evening mosre successfully entertaining Alana. Sure, I slept through soccer on Wednesday and was too cranky (due to 4am flatmate domestic disputes) to be social in the weekend - but that's life. I had also had a week of lunches with people. Weirdly busy all around considering I was doing sweet eff all.
Over the weekend I also discovered Studylink had terminated my payments a month earlier (turns out I hadn't overspent as much as I'd thought). Monday morning I discovered this was because the university had told them I was no longer enrolled. So I bowled in to the uni to find out what was up. All they could work out was that there was some sort of clerical error, but that was about as far as they were willing to go as far as explaining things. Hopefully it is now all sorted, not sure if I'll get backpay though. Could make things annoyingly tight for no good reason.
Yesterday I saw my supervisor for a de-briefing and planning what I'm doing next thesis-wise. It was great, he sided with my argument over that which followed at the conference, and is being more hands-on a supervisor than he usually is. I came out of the meeting feeling very happy.
Neopets World Cup is on. It is bad for me (due to being a little tempting a distraction).
Darn what is basically a soccer flash game.

23th June 2007 - Etheldreda, V. With Nocturn. Vigil.
Last night the snow knocked the power out, so I was woken by my UPS at 3am. Snow was worth watching come down at the time though. And it means for at least those couple of hours Liesl's heater wasn't adding to our powerbill...
Anyway, this week has been not so productive.
Got properly moved in to my new office. Played soccer badly on Wednesday night, and bled everywhere after losing in a collision of my bare shin vs a shin guard. Was home sick on Thursday, distracted on Friday and cold today. Achieving bunches I am.
I spent the day today in the office, to minimise my personal contribution to the hugeness of the powerbill. Liesl is going to bankrupt us all.
Anyway, I'm off to curl up under a blanket to keep warm.

26th June 2007 - SS. John and Paul.
Last night, I finally saw Pirates of the Carribean 3. It was entertaining, though not good. Worth seeing though, as I didn't have to pay. It was an evening out with my dad and brother.
Thesis work is going excruciatingly slowly. Theory is mind-numbing, which is turn makes me significantly more distractable. The new woman in my office has already awaken my homicidal tendencies through her complete disregard to the fact that other people's belongings are other people's. You don't fuck with other people's stuff, and especially not in ways that can't be repaired. It bugs me a lot, though I managed to refrain from directly threatening to lay charges on her if she interfered with anything of mine, just. I think I did very well....
In other Matthew's-growing-anger-and-hatred news, my mother has taken to public speculating about my sexuality. While I could give a rat's arse what her opinions are on the matter, the supposed proofs she is discussing are quite offensive. Like I need more reasons to wish an unpleasant end on that harpy. She is going in to a home the first day possible and being forgotten. I have to get around to breeding, so there can be grandchildren with whom she is allowed absolutely no contact.

27th June 2007.
I think my retard flatmates not-boy-friend is still using our washing machine and drier - even though she is out of town. This makes me cranky.
I'm just home from soccer and my room is freezing to the point my lungs are being spaztards. Soccer was mostly good, lots of new people and more girls playing the usual. I was full of porcinocidal rage (I don't think that's a thing, or even a word). Bacon irks me, with his stupid serial killer eyes and general complete unlikeableness. What is with a universe that allows people like that to exist - I think it is proof there is no god.
Well, I guess the universe allows me to exist, and I'm possibly just as offensive to the aesthetic world.
I need new lungs. And the illicit sex life my mother is telling people I have (turns out my apparent long-term singleness is really just a cover for all of the dodginess I'm getting up to on the sly - why didn't someone tell me this sooner....). Rage is now back to being homocidal - matricidal to be specific.
I am very angry of late. I wonder if it is a sign of something - or just extreme old age kicking in.

Tuesday, 8 May 2007

May 2007

Skipping the country, and still entirely unprepared

2nd May 2007.
I vaccuumed this morning. The noise in my head had got too much, so I cleaned. I really shouldn't go to funerals. I don't handle death well when I know how I'm supposed to be dealing with it.
I shall have to work on defeating Death, just as to never have to go to another funeral again.
I think with writing competing blog-type things, this one may start to suffer.
I worries me that I defeat my mental health problems with mess, and living in it. When things get too much for me I clean. I let the crazy out and it takes a lot of the other crap away with it. As things go, not really a type of crazy most people would find bothering. Things get on top of me and I go crazy by tidying the house and giving it a thorough hoovering.

4th May 2007.
I'm quite stressed. It's making me feel very unwell.
My conference paper is probably fine. Most of my trip is entirely sorted. And I'm a grown man, I can handle sorting myself around one night in Toronto (the 30ish hours in Toronto is the only part of my trip not pretty much sorted). Still, I feel like I'm going to hurl. Constantly.
I'm trying to catch up with people as much as possible before I go - but it keeps not sorting. Someone (i.e. my father) will postpone a couple of hours and it throws out everything else.
And I still need shoes, as my plans to shop today went equally wrong.
I have to remember never to travel again. I do anxiety too well to do anything like this ever again. Chances are I'll manage to stress myself to death this time - which would, at least, solve the problem...
I've had a couple fo people read over my conference paper, they think it is fine. Hopefully my supervisor will agree.
Alana has dressed me well (and far to expensively), so I shall look good even if I sound like a retard.

5th May 2007.
Still stressed like a crazy. Should have gone to the pool this morning, but taking all the sleep I can get - which isn't much and is at funny times.
I've still not sorted things that need sorted, as I'm a dumb arse.
I keep trying to sort catching up with people, but everyone is all vague and I end up not being about to sort when people are availible and they all seem to clash for times and I end up seeing no-one at all and sitting at home stressing like a retard.
I'm currently signing up to couchsurfing, as I may find somewhere to sleep in Toronto that way. Or I could just go to a hostel, either would be an exciting new adventure for me. I am so sheltered.
For the second day in a row, my mentally booking to catch up with people has gone horribly wrong. I'm basically not catching up with anyone before I go. Though today it is at least through people being sick, rather than just difficult. I may go in to the office and do some more fine tuning on my presentation.

6th May 2007 - John before Port Latin.
Yesterday, I did a bit of prep for my trip and caught up with Meg, but mostly failed to achieve much. Went to a BBQ in the evening, and then to a keg party with Oli and company. Adam, the guy hosting the keg, was trying very hard to set me up with a friend of his I'd met the week before. It was pretty clear nothing was going to happen, I think I may have been the punch-line of some sort of practical joke. Unfortunately, I was too drunk to realise I was part of some cruel joke at the time, and just made a complete tool of myself. Go me and embarrassing myself horribly.
Today, I'm a bit of a wreck. International travel is seeming scarier by the day.
I'm too anxious for this sort of thing. I feel like my chest is going to explode.
I'm trying to avoid panicking by looking up couches on couchsurfing.com, but I am becoming quite certain I'm too much of a wimp to actually couchsurf. I think I may even be too much of a wimp to stay in a hostel. I have little choice on this though, as sleeping under a bridge on my one night in Toronto would be crazy.
Tomorrow I have to pack. I should be well in to it already, I leave in less than two days. But I have done nothing.
I'm not at my happiest right now.
Much of this is travel related and should probably be in my travel-blog..., but it is also crazy related so is probably best right where it is.

8th May 2007.
We hates packing, it burns us.
Alana fed me last night, and my grandparents the night before. Hooray for not having to think about food, more time in which to fail to pack.
Stress led to not sleeping last night - hopefully this will make sleeping on the plane easier and reseting my bioclock a smoother process. But we all know that's not going to happen, I'll just get jetlagged harder.
Back in a month-ish. Until then, just watch the travel-blog for details.

Monday, 30 April 2007

April 2007

About to skip the country, and entirely unprepared

12th April 2007.
Mildly shit run of late. Stressing out about my conference paper, which is entirely not going to scheduele. Stress leads to getting ill which leads to not being about to work as well which leads to falling further behind scheduele which leads to stress which leads to getting ill which leads to not being about to work as well which leads to falling further behind scheduele which leads to stress which leads to getting ill....
I've also been depressed - which is partially a good thing, it made me realise I've not been depressed in a very long time. The feeling isn't even very familiar anymore. Not too depressed though, still up enough to feel sad and miserable, which is a start. I really should be working on my paper - might come back to this later today, possibly.
I give my paper in a month. In the morning of the 12th to be precise. I'm not ready, and I'm panicking. In lighter news I made biscuits this evening. They turned out surprisingly well considering I couldn't work out how to turn the oven on (the switch was quite hidden).
Still haven't done the catch up on the last two weeks for this thing, guess it's not going to happen tonight.

22nd April 2007.
This month is pretty much running away from me.
And I'm slack about this thing.
The week and a half before Easter. I worked on my paper, and otherwise stuck to my nice boring routine life - except for the Tuesday before Easter when I spent the afternoon and evening with Tina. Looking at wedding dresses and other such activities that were in themselves entirely not enjoyable, but made tolerable be excellent company.
The few days after Easter, I was sick. Sickness lead to taking a break from my paper, which I probably couldn't really afford to. It was probably divine punishment for having a night of steak and cheese and going out on the piss with Oli and co the moment Lent was over. That night was a pretty damn good night though, except for the giant retarded musclebound freak who grabbed me in a bar and started abusing me for no reason at all. Sometime I wish I had superpowers of evil, to kill by thinking and the like. Evil is good...
On Easter Monday, I decided to give cycling a proper go as I have a nice bike for the meanwhile and hadn't really cycled since about 1995. I rode out to visit a friend in south D. The ride when surprisingly well. I stayed a while and had quite a pleasant visit. I found out he was going to Michigan not long after I'm going to be there to visit a friend I hadn't known existed (something which, when combined with my generally anxiety about not being liked, put me in my place a bit - considering how many of my friends don't even come across town to visit me, and the weirdness of realising how little I know about some of the people I consider my closest friends). I stayed a bit too long, and had to cycle home in the dark - though he cycled me much of the way and his flatmate kindly gave me a spare back light. Needless to say, their combined efforts got me home alive.
The next day I was sore. Seems cycling a bunch is painful on the unprepared. Later in the day I came down sick. Thinking about it now, the cycling at night while inappropriately dressed for the cold may have been a factor. Tuesday and Wednesday were mostly spent at home playing Fall of Heaven II.
Thursday, I wrote the above.
Friday, April the 13th, my biscuits went down well. I spent the day working on my paper. The weekend followed, spent mostly in the office and working on my paper. Sunday night, I found out my friend I'd been cycling with had had a minor cycling accident, so I diversified my stress with an impractical amount of worry about him. On Monday, I gave Lizzie a draft to check over and then spent the evening with Tina. Tuesday morning was spent psychotically making Lizzie suggested corrections before I presented the paper to the postgrads and the HOD at lunch time. All very stressful and last minute. I think it went well, almost all the comments were positive. Even my supervisor only said nice things - which is unusual in his respomce to my work. Then I came home to feel sick. Woot for poor physiological responces to stress. I spent a little of the evening with Tina before heading to my dead languages book club to talk Wulf and Eadwacer.
Wednesday, I headed to varsity but was still suffering a weird sort of burnout. I ended up just listening to Neil Gaiman read his short story (nominated for both a Hugo and a Locus this year), "How to talk to girls at parties" on the departmental internet. In the evening after attending a play reading I headed to soccer, and all but snarled at Bacon, who keeps injuring me and it is making me cranky. By this point my worry about other people's cycling injuries had spread to worry about my injuring myself and screwing up my trip, which is suddenly very soon.
Thursday I was stressing again, about revisions. Realising I was doing myself more harm than good, I organised a meeting with my supervisor for the following day and then went to the travel agent to pick up my tickets. I now have it all, including my insurance information (the thing that makes me happiest) and the plastic bag I have to fit all my liquid and gels into. And people say the terrorists haven't already won. Thursday night I couldn't sleep, I just lay awake through most of the night. Bugger it.
Friday morning, I head in and find my supervisor is home sick and my meeting cancelled. Welcome back stress. I was also having a bad day people-wise. My efforts to find stinky Joe from my office redeemable as a human being were destroyed through his casually being a complete fuckwit to me. I mostly pleasant opinion of one of the academic staff also took a major blow, for surprisingly similar reasons. On friday I also decided I'm not going to bus across Canada, instead I'm going to Niagara Falls to be a dirty tourist and then flying to Vancouver. A flight I should have sorted this weekend and still haven't. Will have to do that tomorrow...
Yesterday, swimming was followed by a bit of work and letting my brother using a uni computer to watch an hour long youtube clip of Neil Gaiman reading an as-yet-unpublished short story of awesomeness. In the evening I went to a cocktail party and then a kegger with Oli and co, before breifly catching up with the GreenIslandite in town. I then decided I was grumpy/sleepy and went home.
Today, I'm suffering lack of sleep, an annoying cough and an addiction to Civ IV. Went to my grandparents for dinner though, which was good. The walk out was almost certainly good for me. On the walk I read "Pol Pot's Beautiful Daughter" in an attempt to get away from myself. My level of toolishness is grating on my nerves.
I have to ask around about blog sites. It occured to me that this thing is setup in a way not very travel friendly, so I intend to get a weblog of a commercial standard sort variety for my trip. I may have to see if I can find anyone who can suggest which one I should go with.

They are a literary audience, I told myself. They will not have brought rocks. They will not throw any rocks they might have brought. Even if they have brought rocks and plan to throw them, I'm on near the end and maybe they will have thrown all the rocks they have brought before I come on, and I can probably dodge the few remaining rocks.

27th April 2007.
My head might explode. Stress is slowing my preparation and I have less than two weeks. In fact, not much over one week. My head might explode.
And I'm not really sleeping. Mostly just lying awake getting grumpy about the fact I'm not asleep like people ought be.
Since I last wrote, I have sorted most of my internal Canadian travel. Will sort my Niagara trip on the day, and the ferry and Vancouver Island travel will probably be similar. Otherwise I'm pretty sorted travel wise.
At a birthday party (whether she wanted one or not) that my aunt threw for my grandmother on Anzac day, I was given a big lecture about how much I'd be asking to be robbed. It has left me feeling very disinclined to make any sort of security arrangements. If anything, I now feel more than anything that I should blutack my money to the outside of my clothing and rely on the general decentness of people to tell me when it is falling off. It occurs to me I may be a little contrary.
Quote from Neil.

28th April 2007 - Vitalis, Mart. With ruling of quire.
Thursday I had the creepiest deja vu moment of my life. Pete, a friend from school, hunted dowen my office and asked if he could talk to me. I instantly thought "huh, he's come to tell me Rupert has done himself in". Indeed, it turned out he had come to tell me that Rupert had died "suddenly, at home". It was a bit x-files-y for a while until I realised it was the logical assumption to make as to why Pete would have hunted down my office. All the bricks fall in to place to make it not supernatural prediction but logical outcome. Thinking about this made me realise I have mean assumptions about people.
And now I have a funeral to go to on Monday.
Sleep deprivation is getting to me and I seem to be having occasional auditory hallucinations. Not a great look, really.
Yesterday I went to the doctor, my weight was down over the three months - though much up over the last one, in which I've been putting on about a kg a week - and my blood pressure quite up (147/80). Fortunately it's not high enough to affect my travel insurance coverage. My bloods, as usual, superb. I continue to have bugger all blood lipid, so I ought not die of a heat attack. Won't protect me from lupus though.
I spent the morning at the pool swimming, by myself as I got the day wrong in the many scheduele changes with Meg. I think she'll be there tomorrow morning, I should go again - being what a fatty I am. I'm off to the office to work to do more on my conference paper. It is arse. And I'm being cranky at someone I have only a little more reason than usual to be cranky at. I miss sleep.

29th April 2007 - Departure of Noah from the Ark.
I have bit blothy circles around my eyes that look a bit like someone has punched me. And I have a hangover - though my typing would suggest I shouldn't, I'm typing like I'm still drunk. Alcohol is bad. Never accept a cocktail if you don't know what is in it. I'm pretty sure it was the single drink of something unknown on top of a low level bed of pleasant beer drinking that did me in. I also appear to have gaps in my memory of last night, which is a disturbing first time experience for me. I don't like it at all.
It occurs to me that I look like a slow walking extra from a Zombie movie. I think I should go to varsity and do some work. At some stage I'll need to find out if I did anything last night I need to apologise for. The not knowing part is extremely frustrating.
Spent the day in the office. Feeling quite arse and achieving little. People kept telling me I looked like crap and should go home, and I kept arguing that I didn't feel as bad as I looked. Which was true, I look god damn aweful. Around my eyes has got more discoloured and gross and now a bit rashy, pointing quite firmly toward an allergic reaction masked by how much I'd assumed I was horribly drunk. After packing up all my office for the move in the morning, I headed home and rang around. Seems I didn't drink all the much, just a few beers and a Canadian Club and ginger ale (possibly quite strongly made). Seems my being horribly ill may not have been from drinking after all, which is good to know. Or, at least, not drinking on its own. It seems the being horribly sick may also have saved me from hooking up with someone. Though I doubt I was as much "in" as people are suggesting. I've seen me.
The question now, is what got me. It was an anime theme party, and they had raided an asian supermarket for all the food. So much weird shite, and any of it could be the culprit. Hopefully the gross swollen face thing wil have come right for the funeral tomorrow. It'd be bad form to look more corpsy than the corpse.

30th April 2007 - Deposition of S. Erkenwald, Bp. of London diocese.
For reasons ill-definible I feel completely emotionally drained and want to just curl up in a ball somewhere and cry. Sure, I spent much of the afternoon at a funeral - but it was someone I've not said more than "hi" to in many years. I think the problem is that I don't know what I'm supposed to feel and, thus, have no chance of identifying what is going on in there.
Stupid emotions.
And stupid weather. It was careers day, but most of the government ministries weren't there as the airport was having fog issues.
The funeral was very nice. Huge turnout, pleasant, full choir. I'm pretty sure I've never been to a funeral with a full choir before, much less a good choir. Part of me feels the fact he was naturally good at everything and supersmart and talented makes his mental health problems less of a thing bad - but I think that is just the evil, jealous fucktard (that is the core of my being) speaking.
I think I need to lie down for a while. Hopefully, if I have the day right, Alana is feeding me tonight.
I had the time wrong, but the day right. So I ended up there more than half an hour early, and while she was still at work. It all worked out well, and got me away from the milk I was drinking before I could make myself entirely sick. It worries me that I may have a touch of the emo in me, the one I deal with emotional unpleasantness with dairy. It is much less ridiculous than cutting, but with the discomfort my lactose intolerance causes - I worry it may amount to the same thing.
I shouldn't go to funerals, I've come over extra fucking nutty tonight. And I'm taking it out on Simon far more than I should be.
My brain is stupid.
And my funeral will never be as good as the one I went to today.
In lighter news, I've set up the travel blog I was threatening. It's here - but won't be of much interest until I've buggered off.