Out of blood, wanna eat brainsssss instead

Today, I had to go and get my blood taken. Which meant waking up way too early and of course eating nothing after 6 in the previous evening. I frikkin hate that they can't do an afternoon blood taking for those who don't fall asleep naturally at 8 in the evening and wake up bright and early next morning. Bloody uncaring bastards, the lot.

So my day started at 01:05, when I woke up. I went to sleep rather early at 10 last night so I wouldn't freeze to death or grow too hungry.

Obviously, the plan didn't work. I tried sleeping and thought about stuff until it became unbearable to just lie there in the dark all bored and not sleepy in the slightest. So from around 3 in the morning I read till I felt a bit sleepy and decided to lie back down at 5:30. I only managed to fall asleep due to the background noises around 6:15. My clock woke me up at 6:30.

So I got dressed and went down to get my blood sample taken. I had to walk to the doc, because the tram just left when I arrived at the stop. Was about -8°C. I was damned hungry. But I was all nice. Why spoil other people's day as well?

A few women asked me where they could get a number, so I pointed out to them (I asked the receptionist women last time, so I was prepared). And then came the old man. He asked me, I told him where he could get a number. He told me, whining, that he only wanted to talk to the lab receptionists (the "lab" wing/department is where blood samples are taken and where you had to submit other samples to the receptionists if this department obviously, and who handled doctor's notes before you were told which door you had to wait in front of - and they also gave you the lab results back). I told him he had to pick a number there, see that pillar, yes, there was a screen on the side of it... He interrupted me, not caring, asking me again and again, not letting me to explain, bitching that he only wanted to talk to the lab receptionists. Then he turned, not saying a thing and asked the old man standing next to me. He explained the same thing I told him, and the old bitchy man went there without another word and got himself a frikkin number. WHAT THE HELL, BASTARD?!

Anyway, I stood there, not daring to sit down in case I fell into a deadly sleep and miss my once-in-28-days chance. I got called to the receptionist, who was quite amazed at all the stuff that will be analyzed from my blood. She gave me a bunch of papers and told me to wait. I did. And then I got called in. The woman inside (there were about 4 other people all getting their blood sucked out taken told me briskly to undress and then shouted "oh sweet Jesus". Whoa. She was looking at the paper. She told me that that list was a lot. I asked her if I'd have any blood remaining. She didn't answer.

Luckily, I had a tank top under my pullover and turtleneck, mostly because it was so frikkin cold out there, so I wasn't only in my bra when my blood was taken. She took5 (well, I remember counting at least 5 clicks but I think it was prolly 6) test tube full of blood from me (and let it be mentioned I had to go there on the third day of Aunt Irma's visit to boot), slapped some gauze on my arm and told me to press down on it for 5 minutes and to get out because she had to attend to the next one.

Boy, was I glad I wasn't naked. I tried to reach down to take my pullover and bag while she screamed at me to press down on the gauze. I told her something along the lines of: I can't grab my stuff, clear out and press down on it as well. I think I might have been a bit snappy. Oh well. Anyway, I finally got out and got ogled by a bunch of men. Thanks. Who asked them to look? I was half dead, totally out of blood, about to faint and all they could do was ogle my boobs. I really would have appreciated it at that point if someone helped me to a chair. Instead I stumbled to one and fell into it.

I pressed down on the gauze until the bleeding stopped, but thanks to the woman not helping me with my stuff (would it have been that much of a bother to help me sling my bag (wasn't heavy at all) onto my shoulder and throwing my pullover over my arms so I didn't ahve to let go of the gauze??) I had... still have a purple bruise. Not big, just a bit painful. Assholes. I sorta wish I had fainted there. It would have given them more trouble. Do you just shoo someone out after taking that much blood?!

Anyway. I climbed to the first floor, got into the toilet to tuck my tank top and turnleneck back into my pants, because I really didn't want to catch a cold. A woman opened the door on me (I wonder if she has heard of knocking) and didn't close the door. Bitch. Then I washed my hands and ate the 9 baby tomatoes I brought with myself and ate a small bun. I wasn't really hungry at that point. I was dead tired. But since I was already in the city, I had to go to places.

First I went to the post recovering a letter the frikkin postman failed to deliver (he assumed nobody was at home so I had to spend time on getting the letter from the post office myself - I wonder what the hell postmen are for). Then I went and bought myself pretty pretty mother of pearl buttons. 2 bigger, 4 medium. Should have bought more. Oh well. Then I went and bought myself T-clasps for my bracelets. I got a discount because I was a return customer. Yay! <3

Then I went to my flat, got my mail, and then went home. The frikkin basement cat attacked me. I had to feed him and he poked me enough so I had to pick him up and scratch his ears. (I was afraid if I bent down I'd faint.) He in return of my kindness sunk his claws into my arm right next to the needle mark. I screamed and put him down nicely on a chair. He stared miffed at me and went to sleep. I didn't have the heart to kick him out, even though he wasn't my cat but the neighbour's.

Then I decided to air out the flat in hopes of letting some fresh oxigen in and scaring the cat away. And when the blast of air slammed a door shut the cat decided to leave after all. Which was good, because once I closed the doors and turned the heater back on I fell into the bed, barely managing to kick off my pants and pullover and fell into a deeeep sleep.

I woke up at 6 in the evening, feeling slightly better, scared shitless. It was the second time in my life I had no idea where I was, when it was and what was happening, why I was there, etc. It was a really creepy experience. I'm one who always knows where she is and what time of day it is (as in morning, afetrnoon, etc). Five minutes later my mom came home and told me I was green as spinach.

I looked into the mirror and - I'm not kidding - jumped back in horror. My skin was greenish-white, my lips eerily red, even though they were faded too. I looked like a zombie. So I ate and drank as much as my stomach could manage.

My folks left to buy fish (newest passion in our family) and when they came back at 9 I wasn't that green anymore. I still feel a bit faint and am freezing, but now I feel better. I wonder just how much blood they could have taken. I've never felt like this after they have taken my blood... ever.

Wristwarmers, finally

It's so damn cold my wrists needed something to warm them up. Sadly, no matching buttons.

Crochet corner

Yesterday I stumbled upon a crocheted bracelet. A few days ago I saw a similar Victorian lace pattern, so I decided why the hell not, I'll make my own.

Sadly, yarns are seriously expensive these days, and the second hand shop where I buy my yarns has been out of yarns since before Christmas. They said I'll have to wait 2 more weeks and then they might have a new shipment.

And yes, I prefer second hand yarns. I buy unused yarn, there are some their original protective wrappings, and there are the leftovers, clearly unused, just not a full ball of yarn. I don't mind these. After all here 50g of yarn (100% wool) costs 15 HUF, while in any yarn shop it costs 590-790 HUF, depending on colour. Can you blame me? I mean buying yarn for a hat you wanna make costs twice as much as a hat you buy in a random shop! This is insane.

Anyway, I sadly have little ecru coloured yarn, so I used my leftover ball of macramé thread. It was a bit bulky and thick, but the overall look of the bracelet is pretty neat, so who cares?

The bracelet is completed with some leftover silk ribbon I had in my bag of ribbons and a button I've had laying around.

Pretty neat, huh?

Announcement

Since most of my readers know me and have me on msn, it's for you guys.

I'm freaking out. My doc sent me to a few checkups, and they turned out to be connected. I initially laughed it off as useless and thought him a meddling creep. I'm not going to rant about him for a long time. If my brain stays in one piece I'd even smooch him! Hell, I'm chanting please let it be goitre instead.

I know I'm pathetic. I don't want to talk about it. I'm freaked out and I'm trying to deal with it. I just hope I don't have that thing. I can't even say what I'm most afraid of. How pathetic is that?

That's why I'm making an announcement. Stop asking questions, stop making glib comments or crappy jokes about my "condition" because they are sure as hell not appreciated. Thanks. I hope the test results will come back negative. Well... meaning the cause is something else. But seriously, just let it be something else.

And I haven't found this "on the net" and claim to have it. Insensitive jerk. Yes, you! Hell, I don't want to have it! That's why I'm freaking out in the first place! That time of the month my ass.

Also, stop hammering me with praises. Yeah, it's you I'm talking to. (You know who you are.) It's making me uncomfortable, because I never wanted praises I did not earn. I know myself and I know who I am. Stop showering me with praises I don't deserve. (Hell, after reading this post nobody will think I deserve any praises at all.)

And stop talking about mushy stuff. I don't do that. I can't deal with that. I never liked mushy stuff, never will. Especially now.

I just want to talk about superficial stuff that lifts my mood and takes my mind off of things. If you get dumped or life sucks, please go look for someone else to complain to. I have enough personal crap of my own.

And if you pm me and ask how I'm doing today or how I'm dealing with things, I'll block you. I'm fighting hysterics. I'm being pathetic. That's how I am these days. If you really have to, talk to me about superficial stuff and I'll calm down.

You've been warned.

PS: Bear with me or leave me alone. I'm scared shitless. I feel like crawling under the desk and crying my eyes out.

And no, this is not a cry for help. This is a warning. If you can deal with me, so be it. If not, just piss off. And don't baby me, it'll make me feel all sorry for myself. I'm really not happy with how I am these days. It's been 2 days. I will get better. Just don't step on a land mine, or I'm back where I started.

More thongs!

Since I've bought a few pretty beads I decided to make some more book thongs.
A pretty bunch, don't you agree?
(Note: try not to bend them, because the metallic beads are not as snug on the yarn as the glass beads, sadly, so they might slide up a few millimeters if you're careless.)

Book Thong

I made a bookmark, because it was just too pretty and I had to have one.
It's made of leftover yarn and leftover beads from summer. Yum!

Instructions can be found here.

And I made another tonight, so I'll put up a piccie of that one as well. It's more... manly or simple, I think.

Tramps Like Us

Tramps Like Us. It was a manga I purchased dirt cheap in a second hand book shop around the metro stop of Notting Hill Gate, London. It was pure coincidence. It was in the basement, buried under other books. I almost didn't buy it because my package was pretty heavy already and it had to be lighter than 20kg. It was an utter coincidence I bought it. If Satrio didn't point out the basement and the dirt cheap books, if Eleanor wouldn't have picked it up and then discarded it, I don't think I'd have seen it, ever.

But I did. And bought it. I read the first two chapters right that night. The story appealed to me in so many ways. I mean a working woman takes on a guy as a pet. He is an easygoing, younger guy. She gets a clean, decently-behaved, intelligent pet, he gets a place to live, food to fill his stomach and amazing backrubs. She gets to vent her anger and spoil her pet, he gets pampered and spoiled... and sometimes yelled at. They click. But of course there is a catch: no romantic feelings and absolutely no sex.

And then you have to read about his exes, her big relationship with an old flame, almost getting married with said old flame while her pet hardly ever gets recognized as a guy by her. Although he is trying and hard.

Through agonizing volumes this goes on. Until finally, finally the woman gets a clue.

I finally got to read the last 6 volumes tonight. Let's just say this was a huge overload.

But somehow this manga was dear to me because hell, as a working woman I'd love to have a pet like that. Easy to amuse yourself, you don't have to worry about cajoling said pet out of it's cage, he wouldn't scratch the sofa, no poop on the carpet and he can actually tell what the hell is wrong or what he wants to eat. Pure win.

Yeah, I have a scary and twisted personality. But I don't care. I don't think there is anything wrong with wishing to be an office woman who keeps a guy who has his own life by day but is your pseudo-pet in the evenings. Ok, the no sex and no feelings attached rule is pretty stupid, but otherwise... I'd take that anytime.

And yeah. I am serious. Crazy as it sounds. Although I don't have sadistic or masochistic tendencies out of the norm.

Today, my mom decided I should study to be a nurse that specializes in caring for the elderly. There was something about that in the news.

I believe, for most of you it sounds like a grand, humane and most of all glorified job. For minimum or below wage.

I never claimed to be nice, warm, cozy and well... a good person. I'm about average, personality-wise.

And damned if I ever imagined myself working as a nurse washing soiled bedclothes, dressing up batty old women and trying to reason with old men to put on their pants... or taking them off when they have soiled them. Not to mention all the whining and well... simply everything that comes with nursing the elderly.

Yes, I'm a total bastard for seeing the bad things in everything, because we can learn so much from the older generation, because they are so wise... Well. Let me tell you something. Just because they are older it doesn't mean they are wiser too. Not all of them are even in their right mind. And I'm not Peter Petrelli to revel in my nurturing nature and nurse old people. Because not everybody is a nice old man with a sound mind, who is already bedridden and thus catheterized.

So. No. NO! NO! NO! Hell no, fuck no, I'm not doing it!!! I don't care if I sound shallow or sheltered or simply spoiled rotten (something I definitely am not btw), but I'm not changing diapers until I have a kid and never ever after. And I don't even think I can deal with kiddy poop even. I mean just the thought makes me nauseous. I didn't go and study two different professions just to take care of soiled bedclothes!

You know why I don't want to take care of the elderly besides the cleaning up? Because kids you can tell off. Elderly, who have the mental state of kids you can't shout at or tell off and whatever, because it's not polite. I'd sooner deal with kids than elderly. I'm older at least and they respect that, or might. I'm younger than the elderly and they don't care about any sort of authority. You are never allowed to slap an old person, ever, even if it's the softest, most careful slap ever. Fuck no. I never wanted to be a nurse. It never appealed to me. I am NOT gonna do it!

Oh and yes, I am speaking from experience.

Public transport on strike

The public transport strike has been going on since Tuesday and now even the railway people joined in. For a few hours. Trains are going smoothly again tho. They only ruined the morning.

But still, the city sorta ceased to work. I mean those lucky few who live and work around the metro lines are lucky, everybody else can't get to work. People are taking cars, some organize the "full car movement", aka those with cars write their destination on an A4 paper and place it on the right bottom of their windshield so other people can hail them like taxies and so less cars are on the roads.

Still, the whole city is a traffic jam, the smog is mounting and boy, am I glad I didn't have to go out so far. (I managed to shuffle my teaching hours into next week. I really meant next week.) I hope they fix this by Tuesday, because I don't feel like walking home from my doc - or from the other end of the city. I don't mind walking, but for 2 hours and climbing a hill? Fuck no!!

And yes, I do understand those guys have it bad. But are they worth as much as every other worker in the city? And no, I don't think so. I do understand they want a raise. But this is outrageous. Because of them others are losing their jobs and money and precious hours. No, I can't feel for them.

I wish BKV (public transport company) would just hire some drivers and make sure at least one frikkin bus would work on each line. I may sound horrid, but I fucking don't care, because trekking up this hill I live on, not to mention under 0°C is nothing close to fun.

So my message to you, public transport people: fuck you!!! I don't care!!! You dragged this on for days now, nothing changed, and we can't get anywhere because of you!!! You don't have the right to cripple the capital of a country and halt public transport just because you feel like it!!!

Go on a fucking hunger strike or something, just stop ruining the life of every person in this city!

Boy, that felt... not enough at all. ><

Shiny!

On the 13th day of... January, my uhm... true love sent to me... :P

No, he really did send me a package. Although the true love part is debatable.
It restored my faith in our postal service... to a limit.

I got one eye shadow,
Two shiny pens,
Three Four coins.

I'm so happy! The pens are shiny and the eye shadow is sparkly and uhm... should I be happy that I got money from a guy? :P

Well, I'm still happy. Thank you so so much!

Canceled due to bad weather

Boy, am I glad our shopping spree got canceled due to bad weather - and I got to sleep in. I stayed up till 5 in the morning, reading manga.

I did plan to go and sleep 2 hours earlier at least, but then I remembered that I know a new place for manga and lo and behold, they had the two other volumes of the thing I was looking for.

So I stayed up till morning, reading it. O.o

It was... whoa. It had nearly all the things I ask for in a manga: it had blood and gore (in moderation), blood-curdling, chilling revelations, tragedy, cynical-sarcastic humor, passion and last but not least no trace of cutesy stuff - be it cute little kids, pets or air headed girls. The sex scenes I could have done without, but whatever, we can't have it all.

So it was amazing. It kept me on my toes. It had me hissing and twitching to cover my eyes at a certain crucial point, and not because of the gore at all. The face of the main character a second before the factory doors are closed and he gets locked in with all the bad guys - a few seconds before he gets pummeled near to death - and he looks out at his lover he just pushed through the door and thus saved... That look in his eyes... Yep, there we go. I just love a good manga with tragedy but without all the soppy angst. Gut wrenching pain? Hell yeah! Soppy feelings and talking it out? *retch* Ditsy girls and cutesy shit? Hell no!

Personally, I'm happy the guy didn't actually get raped as threatened, because that would have been a new ick level. Although come to think of it, Gutts, hero of Berserk also got raped in the first or second chapter of the series. Not really something that gets you interested in a manga, but hell, that series is one of my absolute favourites. All that blood and gore and suffering! And it's so dark, so very dark...! So I guess a rape can move a story forward and explain someone's twisted character, but I really don't like reading about it.

And still... beneath all that blood and gore and the rape and fights and uh... tragedy I guess... it was still kinda cute. And sweet. In a twisted sort of way.

...although now that I've checked it, I knew why the artwork was so familiar. Checking up on the author rewarded me with new info. Mainly that it was one of her works that put me off this certain genre for years. Due to this previous work of hers I was creeped out for at least a week!

Let's just say it was the most disgusting, twisted shit I've ever encountered. It was in some all-boys' school where the food-chain of power was long decided and in walks some guy who wants to know why his brother had been killed here a few years prior. In the first pages we see a hanged woman, then the hanged older brother, a few pages later the "school rules" explained and a power-rape. I stopped reading it after that.

I've never read anything so disgusting and deranged, period. I mean Berserk has some twisted shit, but that... that was so disgusting I was creeped out, disgusted and out of it for at least a week. I still feel the bile rising now when I try to recall it. Disgusting, twisted, fucked-up crap!

Yuck.

So back to the other manga.... It was good. I liked it. But I'm not gonna share. I'm pretty sure it's not really to any of my friends' tastes.

bring it on :P

...someone catch that tank!

Yes, that tank went over me. I'm still not healthy, but I'm the healthiest of my family. My dad borrowed by bucket and was violently sick all night long. My mom was less sick, she managed to keep it all down, but now she is running a 38,3°C fever. I spent the night making lots of tea for them and me as well and made lots of apple puree for them this morning. Then went to sleep.

This morning my muscle-pain was so bad even breathing hurt. My back even cramped up and the muscles were sore from throwing up, my neck from the stupid position I slept in because I felt nauseous and my sides hurt like hell as well...

So being violently ill is not as fun as it looks like. Yeah, projectile vomiting might look fun, but believe me, the acid burns your throat and you have to clean up afterwards... not to mention all the muscle pain and cramps.

Laughing still hurts like bloody murder, but if I lean back to press my back against the backrest or my back to the wall if I'm standing I won't convulse in pain.

Well. At least I have something to write about, I guess. Currently I'm trying to keep down a few bites of normal food. Wish me luck.

Ugh...

Seriously... I can't believe I'm starting the new year like this.

I felt nauseous on the first night of the year. I wasn't hung over, I didn't drink but a few sips of champagne. It was probably the salad.

After the first two sessions I spent hours sitting on the toilet, holding a bucket. I even tried to clean the floor. And the walls. Let's just say bending down wasn't a wise idea. I love my bucket.

I spent the 2nd of January in bed, trying to hold down empty tea and to nurse my throat back to a less painless stage. Throwing up has side effects. Let's just say my throat feels like it got burned. Acid is not fun.

I slept 2 hours, had to go to the toilet, luckily I wasn't throwing up, but I wasn't well. I'm trying my best not to spell out why I had to run to the toilet a couple of times. Anyway, sleep, toilet, tea, sleep, rinse repeat was what I did all day.

In the evening I was hungry and thought I could keep some food down. Have I mentioned all the shivering? Prolly not. I kept shivering and shaking, evidence of my blood sugar crawling below zero. Anyway, I ate half an orange and about 3 bites of bread. In an hour. I kept it down. So after a while, I mean an hour or two I was allowed to eat some apple puree. While we watched Batman Begins with my folks, which in itself is a miracle (my mom prefers chick flicks and my dad hates anything even remotely fantasy-like), I ate half of one apple's puree. Woo-hoo.

I ate the rest later.

Then I noticed I was running a fever. At first it was just 37,8°C, but my mom made me try again. It was about 38,1°C when I got fed up with taking my temperature, so I took an Aspirin. And went back to bed.

I woke up at 4 in the morning, hungry and craving chicken like mad. Ate one apple's puree, one slice of toast and currently munching on a small bun. I still crave chicken, damnit.