April 25th, 2010 | Author: trancejen
I tire of packing, cleaning, clearing, de-cluttering.
I’m sure our garbage men agree. Lately there have been huge stacks of bags in the alley behind the Trance house. They probably dread rolling up here.
I also tire of writing about packing, de-cluttering, and the like. Truly I have become a boring person in the wake of this move.
Today the J-Man and I went out to brunch with the Notorious J.E.W. My father and J. were in rare form in the truck, singing along to current rap hits at top volume to and from the restaurant, which was enough to drive this indie rock chick insane.
Not that I don’t have a deep and abiding appreciation for Ludacris, guys, but come ON.
Really.
I had a pretty mellow weekend. Lots of reading, lots of cleaning, and very little else. This means my cabin fever was at an all-time high and by the time I go out with Norton (who had his kids all weekend) on Tuesday I am going to be crawling the walls.
In other news, tomorrow I am having a pedicure.
You may be shocked by this information, given the fact that I am very anti-foot-touching.
I still am, but that does not negate the fact that the old dogs are looking a little crunchy, and that will not do. The pedicurist in question is a trusted friend who does a damned good job and most importantly does not tickle. She also knows that if she did, she would be at risk for a well-placed and completely involuntary kick in the chin, so we’re all informed and careful and shit.
I’m such a princess.
In still other news, my seizures have been slowing down somewhat with the addition of the new medication. I’m not holding my breath, but it’s promising.
With that good news, the summer seems to be shaping up just fine. So far the following plans are underway: the Chicago roller derby championship, the Stars concert, and the much-anticipated trip to Vegas. Also in the works is a nice little vacation for the J-Man and I. I haven’t yet decided where we will go, but I’m excited about it. We haven’t really taken a trip together alone in a long time, and I think it’ll be fun.
Good times ahoy.
In still other news, I stupidly ate a sloppy joe, and now I feel like I ate sweatsocks. I am never, never going to learn that this gastroparesis shit means business.
Happy Sunday Night.
I tilled my back yard for planting a garden next weekend. I can no longer feel my arms and I am telekinetically typing this.
I am also too tired to scratch the hives I got cause I ate wheat.
You and I both will never learn that food sensitives will make us their bitches whether we like it or not.
I keep refusing to accept that I cannot eat food. WHY?? We are stupid, surely.
You telekinetically type very well, BTW.
Glad to hear the seizures are better and that you’ve been enjoying your time with Norton. Sucks about the food though. Boo.
Yeah, I’m just going to have to accept that meat and I are OVER.
I’m in dire need of a pedicure but the no-foot-touching situation with me could pretty much be considered a psychosis. I therefore am condemned to contorting myself into unnatural positions, trying for the most accurate aim and hoping more polish ends up on the nail than the skin, sink or walls. It sucks not liking your feet touched.
I’ve gotten a little used to the pedicure thing. I just try to breathe and relaaaaax. It works! Beer doesn’t hurt, either.