Ignore the Dog:

So, after two days of driving and some very heavy lifting I am settled into my friend's house in Colorado where I will be living for the next couple of months while I look for a job. Huzzah! I quite enjoy Colorado and am glad to be back but I'm also stressed out about the job search. None of the friends I have talked to so far have managed to find a job since relinquishing the retail jobs/internships they managed when they initially graduated. Really, it's mostly absurd that people with college degrees can't find any work outside of consumer feeding and meat frying -_-. But, that's all melodramatic and angsty on my part. I'll just have to keep trucking along.

In other news, a very special child took hostages in the Discovery Channel building in DC earlier today. Just one more reason I'm something of a sociopath...gotta stay away from the crazy.

I'm still obsessing over Sherlock, so anyone who wants to come along for the ride check in on my fanfic.net account for new stories. Huzzah.

Have a nice day. AND STOP BEING CRAZY. Thanks.

So, most people who know me know that I'm a little bit, shall we say single-minded, when it comes to certain things. Currently, my problem is TV. Generally, I watch Bones, Fringe, and recently Castle, when the season is on. This is OK. Three shows at regular, controlled intervals. Lately, however, I have been hunting TV online. Specifically: Sherlock. There are only three episodes of this BBC One miniseries yet, because I am currently "Between Jobs" as they say, I find I have nothing better to do than watch these episodes on loop for various stretches of time throughout the day. Really, I should be doing something productive like packing for my move, or looking for more job applications, or hell even writing letters to my friends living abroad. But, no. I MUST WATCH SHERLOCK or, the natural derivative, READ FIC. *headdesk* One of these days, this lack of self control is going to cause me a lot of problems. Until then, this is an excuse to use shiny new icons I snatched from justcyanide over at LJ. *points to top of page*


I'm currently reading Haruki Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. This serves the dual purpose of feeding my obsessive running habit and reminding me that I should actually be putting more of my obsessive energy into my writing which has once again fallen into the pit of FAIL. I really enjoy things that have been translated from Japanese into English, mostly because it more closely resembles my own thought patterns, but also because it always sounds like someone is discussing an inside joke. Perfect preparation and delivery.


Various Other Tidbits From Today....b/c I'm way too distracted right now to discuss in detail at the moment...

- My poor dog Jethro projectile vomited in the foyer today as a result of 1) too much of a walk in the heat and 2) too much water immediately after. It was simultaneously horrifying, nasty, and funny as hell. Poor Jethro.

- I couldn't sleep so at 5:45 I left the house and went running for 4 miles and change. Did you know, when the sun comes up, your eyes react like somebody keeps turning on random lights in weird parts of the street i.e. usually when I get out from under the trees

- Paint Pens for repairing scratches on your car are the coolest damn thing ever, even if they smell like pure acid.


That is all. *bows out*

As I sit here, downing mass quantities of Chunky Monkey, I look out the window to see that it is still, at hour 74, still. fucking. raining. Don't get me wrong, I quite enjoy the rain, and hey it means I don't have to go anywhere because it really is somewhere near flooding, but even I have my limits for lazing about. I've cooked extravagant dinners the last two nights and baked a chocolate pound cake in an attempt to stave off boredom. It's working pretty well but I'm starting to run out of flour and other necessary staples if this is going to continue. *looks out window again* Yeah, still not going to the store. I still have a stash of ramen in the back of my pantry so I'm probably good for a week if need be.

Really, I've got to get a better handle on this cooking binge. Or at least stop cooking in such vast quantities. -_-;; I've thought about taking stuff down to soup kitchens and what not, but I feel like that is probably something that has to be cleared and I know they like to prepare things on site. Maybe I can talk them in to letting me go down and use one of their massive kitchens and they can keep all the culinary results. *shrug We shall see.

I realized this morning that it is now officially July and at the end of the month I will be moving. Huzzah and hooray!!!! Colorado here I come. I've been stuck living with my family for the past several months and in all honesty I'm about five seconds from losing it because my mother is speaking to me from another room, a floor below me and expecting me to carry on a normal conversation this way. *headdesk* Anyway, at the end of July I'm moving in with a friend in Colorado and will hopefully, soon there after, have managed to acquire a job and subsequently enough money to start renting my own place. I'm honestly fairly nervous about the job bit. I haven't been able to find anything here at home, and I don't know that Colorado will be much better but I've got to try something else because my current situation is not working at all. Until then, there will be more internet job searching, fanfic writing, and excessive epicurean endeavors.

Periodically in life I come across people who re-enlighten me as to the depths that idiocy can reach. Today was such a time.

I am on some fairly nifty medication due to the fact that I am slightly crazy. Not the crazy of the "My teddy bear told me to eat my toes" variety but the more garden variety, mildly neurotic type of crazy. This is all fine an manageable. Until of course I have to deal with the people at the pharmacy. Where I live you have to check a little box on all your forms that says "Do Not Replace this Medication with a Generic Equivalent" if you want to get precisely what it says on the prescription. I check this little box because the medication I take is not for acne or hangnails, it is medication that adjusts my BRAIN CHEMISTRY. Therefore, in theory, I should probably stick with what I have been taking for the past two years. Theoretically.

Earlier last week, my pharmacy decided to ignore the little box I checked and sent me something that is not even in the same class of drugs that I am taking and requires that I take twice the dosage I am already on to be considered "equivalent." I am, naturally, confused by this. So I call and have a little chat with the pharmacist on duty.

Pharm -"Well we saw that the medication on the prescription was much more expensive so we called your doctor and the replacement was cleared."

Me - "My doctor did not discuss this with me and the prescription she gave me was for the first drug."

Pharm - "Yes, but it's really expensive."

Me - "Ma'am I've been paying for quite a while, I'm well aware of what it costs."

Pharm - "But your doctor approved the change."

Me - "A change she did not discuss with me. Furthermore, you shouldn't have needed to call her in the first place as my records indicate I do not want generics."

Pharm - "But the cost..."

Me - "I'M AWARE OF THE COST!"

At this point it was all I could do not to beat the phone against the oven door. (A reason I should never be allowed to speak to people and cook simultaneously.) After a good thirty minutes of me repeating myself in various ways I was told that the correction would be made and the appropriate medication would be sent to me. Fine. Good.

Today I find a voice mail from my pharmacy saying that they've contacted my doctor's office and that my doctor has indicated that I should try the generic. I am confused by this a miss the second half of the message entirely. Which was probably best as it gave my blood pressure a chance to recover before I replayed it to hear that should I still wish to get the medication that prescription was ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FOR I will have to call my doctor and then call the pharmacy and then have to wait yet another week for them to send me new medication. I love how my doctor is totally OK with randomly changing my medication without notifying me of anything.

I'm not sure who I'm going to verbally abuse first my doctor or whatever poor sucker picks up at the pharmacy tomorrow. But let me assure you it shall not be pleasant for them, and honestly it won't be pleasant for me either. I'm the one with goddamned mental condition for fuck's sake *headdesk*

I just started the last class of my final year of undergrad. It should have been an interesting class in fact the title "Literature and Film of the British Empire" implies that there will be interesting tidbits about colonialism. But, no. There is to be no such fun having. This is due to the fact that we have been assigned 12 books, 12 movies, 10 articles and 8 papers. I have to execute all of this in 3 weeks time AND teach class two days of those three weeks. BETTER YET, my teacher is Indian and she hates the British in fact I would go so far as to call her racist because she SMACKED DOWN A SCOTTISH EXCHANGE STUDENT IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CLASS, for no better reason than that she had the misfortune of being born Scottish. Needless to say I have no respect for this woman and am currently hunting down ways to simultaneously move into another class and get her sorry ass put on probation for sucking at her job. Oh yes, I am that petty and bitter.

Do you ever find yourself in those situations, usually involving drunk people, that are so full of drama you feel like your back in jr. high.....and then you wake up the next morning to find that no one was actually drunk enough to forget all the BS that was being thrown around and now you're left with drama war part duex except now everybody's sober and you're wondering just what the hell you did in a past life to deserve this kind of mindless suffering? *sigh thank god for the library, I need to go work anyway.

Wow, ok I obviously suck at this whole, keeping a journal thing, but I suppose it's a nice outlet the few times per every hundred years that I use it.

Well I am about to be kicked out of the nice little cradle of college and into the cold, cruel world. I graduate in May and the closer it comes the more petrified I get. I've been freaking out over the past week and stalking Monster and Career Group and the like trying to find whatever the hell is available even though no one likes to hire in a bad economy. Tough luck I need monies someone is going to have to put up with my surly self (even if I have to fake being a nice person). Anyway, I've already had an interview with Random House but I haven't heard anything back yet and I've applied to Simon and Schuster and Macmillan and applied to be a personal assistant to a food writer. I suppose that equates to me putting my soul up for sale on the black market. *sigh* Oh well, too late now; it is loose out in teh interwebs.

I now need to stop freaking out and get some sleep. Besides there's plenty of more time to stress tomorrow, right?

Well, ladies and gents, I've managed to make it across the water in a hulking, gravity defying, chunk of metal to the beautiful motherland. I've been in Canterbury for the past week and have toured the cathedral three times, been to the remains of two Friaries, a hospital (as in hospitality), and an embattled town wall, as well as ventured to Dover to tour creepy WWII tunnels, see what was plausibly a ghost, and nearly fall face first down the stairs at the top of Henry VIII's castle. The better part of the week was that I spent all day saturday laying on the beach in Brighton getting as sun soaked as my poor, pasty skin could handle.

All in all, my trip has been wonderful thus far. Class is fairly easy (lucky me and my ability to read middle english without having a brain aneurysm) and the prof is wonderfully obsessed with Medieval culture and the psychosis that is Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. I have a close reading paper due tomorrow on 20-30 lines and I'm torn about whether to write about futile attempts to kill Death in the Pardoner's Tale or excessively gory anti-semitism in the Prioress's Tale. Either way I get to write about people who are complete nutters and I think it will be one of the few papers I've actually enjoyed writing.

In other news, I've just discovered Zero Punctuation. I just spent the better part of the last half hour convulsing on the floor in incomprehensible hysteria but the lack of oxygen was well worth it. I have no idea how I never saw this site before but at least now I know that not all of us misanthropic, obsessive spazzes are doomed to failure. For now, though, I'm going to go back to ignoring the world and playing my DS.

Friday, the procrastination from hell started. I drove up to the city to see some friends and do some shopping. I bought way too many clothes and dragged my friends to the Korean market just so I could buy anpan. As retribution, I finally let Char introduce me to one of her guy friends from high school because she's been telling me since freshman year that "You're perfect for each other. You both like baseball AND video games." I doubt this is an uncommon phenomenon but I consented anyway. Charlie turned out to be a very nice guy and I'm sure we'd be great friends but who knows if I'd actually date the kid. I'm the obnoxious kind of person who wont date someone until after I've known them for at least a year. Phoebe says it's because I'm an Aquarius, I say it's because you can't trust anything that speaks. We also drove out to the hippie capital of the world to watch the crazies in action. I don't think I've ever seen so many white people with dreadlocks in one place at the same time. In the midst of all this fun, I forgot that I had a shift in the Writing Center on Sunday so no weekend pay for me.

Currently, I'm putting off the 2000 word story I'm supposed to be working on for class. It's due tomorrow morning and I have a general idea of what I'm going to write I just doubt it will be quite as nice as the last one I wrote. Not that, that one was perfect by any means, but I'd still like this one not to suck. I think I'll put up the stories that don't make me want to stab myself up on Deviant Art before Friday since I leave for England then and god knows when I'll have internets again. The very thought makes me want to cry. But who can say no to giant castles and sexy accents?

Well, I finally got of my lazy duff and moved my account from LJ. I just didn't want to deal with the quackery any more. For now, I don't have too horribly much to say since really I should be doing my homework. But, everyone loves a little procrastination right?