The cup tastes as sweet as the punch.

The relevant before the ranting:

I had surgery again on Monday. It was wonderful. I regained full consciousness before they pumped me full of pain meds, and having refused the OC before surgery because I didn't want my nose to be itchy, all the connecty monitor shit that I was still attached gave me a minor anxiety attack--During which I ripped of my oxygen mask, pulse monitor and blood pressure cuff. I was pulling on the IV cord when the nurse came in. I don't like having shit over my face.

Stewart stayed home with me Tuesday, but that gave me most of yesterday and today to sit and mull and be completely unproductive and occasionally artsy.

On the artsy side, I started a new set of stencils for xmas gifts.

On the mulling side, I began to resent not being able to just talk to a series of people who I (still) worry about, even though it's fruitless and just going to drive me nuts. It's a short list of very important people. And most of them are untalkable for stupid reasons, or at least stupid reasons by way of blood.

But moving on... Living in sin is great. I like being with Stewart and living with him is nothing short of easy and comfortable and enjoyable. I haven't had to sleep on the couch yet, although I have threatened to send him after a couple Chinese food nights. My favorite thing about Stewart is that I never have to worry about him. Open and honest is the way to go. I do worry about the other broads... But I can always just punch them.



My highschool reunion was last Saturday. I saw a few people I cared too and a few I was indifferent about. There were a couple really awkward moments involving hugs with people who may as well be complete strangers, but Walsh showed and there was an open bar.

A note on the concept of open bar: NOT a good idea at places where awkward is the anticipated social climate. I drank too much, didn't hit me until about 15 minutes after lying down and then hurling commenced. Like a volcano of ramen and Banana pine needles. And I hurled on the sheets, and Stewart changed them. My mom said it must be love, because she just left my dad on the lawn when he was that bad. Stewart said he was too late, because I was already upstairs and it was a cold night.

And something I need to say out loud and out of context: how can someone disrespect themself enough be with something like that?

amen. good night.

Just say no to the rage.

My father was relaying a literary idea to Stewart and me last night. He thinks it's Vonnegut, but the cliff's notes is that everyone has the right to kill one person. One person of your choosing, but only one. And if you killed more than one, you would be killed. I said this kid was at the top of my list. And then Stewart said that if this were really the law, I wouldn't have that one kill yet. I told him that it is in my personality to wait my entire life and pick the worst. My dad called me bitter.

We went to see saw III last night. It was good. There were some parts that made me squirm. It definitely left some questions unanswered and a big gaping hole for another movie (Why can't people do trilogies), but all in all it was decent. I like going to the movies with my dad, we have a good time.

My surgery has been scheduled. That, I'm sure will be fun.

I went to Haven on Tuesday with Stewart, Sarah and pojo. I dressed up as a cliche fantasy with the prepschool twist of getting wasted, double fisted style, and smoking like a chimney. I was ready to fight (above link and his hosebeast, because I have respect issues... and jealousy issues... and as pojo put it, just issues). On the ride there was one of those "don't worry about me, I can handle my own" discussions. Stewart said it wasn't me he was worried about. Which stings a little because I don't understand how he can still care about the welfare of such wretched people at all. He must have made his piece. So, I guess I'll have to make mine. Which is much easier to do when you don't have to see someone everyday. Or at least know that they have a key and a penchant of rifling through people's things.

Alas, I did not have to fight, although there was a suspicious Storm Trooper. I ran into three welcome-ish faces from the past and I wish I had had more time to catch up with people. The first was Nicole Underwood. The was wearing a burka and her boyfriend was dressed up like a terrorist. She said she was well. Megan Walker Grabbed me while I was looking for Stewart after using the ladies. She is also doing well, and I told her to continue doing well until next time. When people started to filter out, We ran into Jen Galvin, who I was actually hoping would have made an appearance. I have to send her an email so we can see eachother some time when they aren't booting us out at the end of the night. She said she wants a St. John's reunion at the school. I think it would be interesting to say the least. Even though I'm kept pretty up to date on all of the people I wanted to see.


Summation, The cat just bit my sweatshirt. I'm going to see if Jen wants to grab lunch next week. Maybe when I'm older like my dad, I'll find that zen place he goes when he's pissed off.