the five second story
POSTED AT 11:40 PM

leslia

I was watching the local news.  The news anchor ritually reported tomorrow's headlines today.  A physician is either being fired, or is leaving the group of doctors I am forced to subscribe to by my health insurance.  He racked up too many reports of sexual misconduct, or to put it nicely, inappropriate bedside manner.  

When I was a freshman in college, I spent an entire semester sick with one ailment or another.  Because the majority of these illnesses were viral, and because I was a full time student, I didn't really have the time to wait a week for an appointment with my regular physician.  I would take appointments with any physician that was available.  For the first two months of the spring semester, I had anti biotic resistant bronchitis, and later, I developed scarlet fever.  These weren't illnesses that could be put off or ignored.

I made an appointment with a Dr. Dana Peterson when my first round of antibiotics wasn't eliminating the bronchitis.  

I was eighteen.  

He pulled down my shirt and pressed the stethoscope down into my bra, carefully watching.  I was sick, I was disoriented, and I didn't know if it was appropriate.

He gave me another round of antibiotics, samples the offices receive from drug companies.  I cried on the floor of my dorm room.  I'm sure this emotional break had a variety of reasons behind it at the time.  Regardless, he touched me inappropriately.  I kept getting sick.  I had to go back and see him.  I brought my sister with me.  He didn't do it again.

Privatized healthcare galvanized this experience.  If I had the choice to see another doctor, I would've.  But, no other offices in my area accept my insurance.  

I'm also angry with myself for thinking I was overreacting.  If it makes you cry, if it makes you feel dirty and violated--it's wrong.  And it must be reported.

thanksgiving
POSTED AT 09:00 PM

leslia

I ate two Thanksgiving dinners today.  One, with Matt's family.  A second, with mine.  Both dinners were delicious and pretty hilarious.  Though, I was being spaztastic at Matt's house.  I'm pretty awful at meeting parents.  

It's always really cool to see a different family, though.  Families are pretty neat.

I don't have a lot to say, other than I'm stuffed, and I think I'm getting sick, and I have so much to do for school and I don't want to do any of it.  Which isn't really news.

But, you know, I thought I'd post a blog.  

I'm really tired.  I think I'm going to get in my pajamas, wash my face, and curl up with my book.  So much social stimulation today.  But, I don't know, I'm pretty satisfied with everything.  It was possibly one of the scariest and most nervous holidays I've ever spent, but, I feel really relieved for some reason.  I can't really pinpoint why, but it's like this huge exhale.  

They were really nice.

blah-og
POSTED AT 09:42 PM

leslia

I lost my Student ID card today.  I know this because I got an email stating, "You have lost your Student ID card".  It was really weird.  I have to go pick it up tomorrow.  It's going to be weird.  I didn't know there were still honorable people in the world who turn in lost things.

I have a lot of assignments due after Thanksgiving.  It's bad.  I haven't really been motivated to start on any of it.

I don't have class tomorrow morning, but I should really start my researching for my history paper so I can just write it over the break, rather than scramble for sources.  I am so glad this is the last time I'll ever have to do this.  History research is such a pain.  I guess I can just go to the library tomorrow before class, investigate my options, check out some leads, see what I can use.  It's an extremely frustrating assignment.  

I have some weird post nasal drip thing, I'm hoping it will go away by tomorrow.  I think it might be allergies.

Phew.  Just submitted some overdue emails.  I think I'm going to watch some television and try to feel better.

short snippets of hunger
POSTED AT 04:10 PM

leslia

I am numb to things that normally make me nervous.  I am numb to things that normally make me excited.  I am numb to a lot of things that were emotional markers in my daily life.  I am just there.

It's really weird and I don't know what to do about it.

I'm going to miss my classes from this semester.  I sort of want to perpetuate the happiness by taking classes with the same professors next semester, but I'd be in eighteen hours if I did that, and I would be overrun with ridiculousness.  

It is very windy today and I can still feel the dirt in my teeth.

The economy sucks, and as a result, I am fatalistic and starving.  This problem, in theory, could be remedied by halting participation in excess.  

I don't know, though.  I guess I could entertain the idea.  Briefly.  

song
POSTED AT 07:20 PM

leslia

The absence of God will bring you comfort, baby
And planning's for the poor so let's pretend that we're rich
And I'm not my body or how I choose to destroy it
Folk singers sing songs for the working, baby
We're just recreation for all those doctors and lawyers
There's no relief for the bleeding heart
'Cause they'll be losing bodies tonight

And Rob says you love, love, love and then you die
I've watched him while sleeping and seen him crying with closed eyes

And you're not happy but you're funny and I'm tripping over my joy
But I just keep on getting up again
We could be daytime drunks if we wanted
We'd never get anything done that way baby
And we'd still be ruled by our dueling perspectives
And I'm not my perspective
Or the lies I'll tell you every time

And Morgan says, maybe love won't let you down
All of your failures are training grounds
And just as your back's turned you'll be surprised she says
As your solitude subsides

And Mike I'll teach you how to swim
If you turn the bad in me into good again

And I say there's trouble
When everything is fine
The need to destroy things
Creeps up on me every time
Just as love's silhouette appears
I close my eyes and disappear tonight

And something's got to change
'Cause our love's the slowest moving train

Listening to: Rilo Kiley

bah humbugery
POSTED AT 11:38 PM

leslia

It's sweet when your friends tell you that you're pretty.  But, I don't know.  I don't feel pretty.  Most days I feel like I'm scraping by, head heavy with an expression I can never really get down on paper.  I just feel stuck.  

The concept of a mirror is rather startling if you think about it.  Even looking at a realistic reflection, looking at the reality of your own body on the outside--it can never compare to how others perceive you.

I was idly looking through some pictures on Aly's new digital camera.  I got to a half naked picture of her, hair wet, an unfamiliar expression on her face, mouth wide open, skin glowing and relaxed.  It was awkward, and allegedly not the most scandalous picture.  I assumed it was taken mid coitus.  It may have been an attempt to document the most intimate act between two people.  But, I don't know, maybe it was taken to objectively witness a part of yourself you'd never be able to see.  You want to see what they see.

Or do you?  Can you ever see what they see?  It's just a picture.

November is flying by so fast.  Tomorrow is Atenas' birthday.  Next week is Thanksgiving, Brina is flying out.  Her boyfriend called me the other day, he wants to fly me out for her Christmas present.  It was the sweetest thing.  I hope it pans out, the scheduling might be problematic.  

I can try and distract myself with writing bullshit on my blog.  But, the truth is, I'm bitter.  I'm so bitter.  And it feels like I'm taking it out on everything around me, labeling all of it as complete asinine bullshit.  And maybe it is.  

I just want to enjoy things again.  Time management comes easy these days, and I linger around points of action, waiting for something different to happen.  It's like I'm shell shocked.  

But, no one can see it.  Even I can't see it.  Looking in the mirror, everything blends together to create a cohesive self image that I project on a daily basis.  And nothing looks different.