don't piss on hospitality

today i feel: happy
today i'm hearing: neutral milk hotel -- king of carrot flowers
today i'm thinking: we need to clean around here... oy...

Last night I was doing the rounds, as I like to call them, and realised that a vast majority of people (meaning the Osburns, whom I love very, very much) were slightly concerned that I had died of kidney infection and/or otherwise. However, I am not dead, just never home and am now here to tell you why.

The kidney infection is all but cleared up now! Which is terribly exciting. I'm still getting winded really easily which is probably pissing off my M.E. at work, but there's not a great deal I can do about it so nyeh. I did have a scare a couple days ago when I was at Fazoli's with Randy and had to conn him in to driving me to Carbondale Memorial because my anus was bleeding. To give you a clearer view of what that experience was like, I'd like to share with you a short bit that I wrote while waiting for my prognosis in the emergency room. Ahem.

I'm in a hospital room without my pants in a flimsy gown that's broken at the back; an abrasive man just shoved his thumb up my ass, it's cold and I want to go home.

*snap snap snap*

Thankfully, that had nothing to do with my kidneys. Not so thankfully, I am now turned off butt!sex for a good month at least. Oh, the tangled web we weave.

So other than random hospital visits, what else have I been doing? Dear reader, the question is not 'what' but 'who'. Hahaha I am witty. My schedule has been kind of chaotic due to a constant change in work calls. See, our schedule shifts whenever we hit tech for a show; something about only being able to work so many hours in a week. I don't know why; it's not like we're union or anything. It makes life interesting, though. I love finding out what I'm doing like, a day in advance. Sarcasm. It's thrown my sleeping schedule off a bit, though. I got spoiled by being able to cuddle up in Randy's loft until half-eleven for a week and was none-to-happy to have to give that up for a morning call this Monday, especially after we were at strike until midnight or later the night before. I suppose, though, that if I'm going to do this whole 'theatre' thing for the rest of my life, I ought to just buck up and quit my bitchin'. By this blog was made for bitchin' and Johnny Cash love and I ain't startin' now, y'all.

Two of the girls I work with are from the Carolinas. This is having adverse effects on my dialect.

Stacy is coming to visit! I'm excited. I have no idea how I am going to entertain her outside of tonight (sunset concert! woo!!), but it will be wondrous to see her. I miss that kid. I miss a lot of kids. I'm also interested in what she's going to think of Randy. It's looking good so far (her first reaction was 'Cute' followed by 'Does he have a big penis', which is better than most seem to get), but I never really know with her. I thrive on that spontaneity sometimes. I did my best to warn Randy that we act like five-year-olds, too, but I don't know if that went through. Most people don't believe me when I say that. Because they are silly. It is very true. Ask my roommate.

There's a sticky spot on the table and I keep putting my arm in it. This concerns me.

Rent Troll 2. It's amazing.