audrizzle

I got food poisoning from the Galaxy Diner in Manhattan. Screw that.

I had a burger and fries with barbecue sauce.


I had to go to the hospital on Saturday because I never felt worse in my life. They said I had gastritis. They put me on some IVs and stuff, that's what the bruise on my arm is from.


So watch out, guys!


The Galaxy Diner will give you food poisoning and/or gastritis!

Soooo! I'm going to try to make a post of substance.

First of all: I made a new photos page with all the old pictures pages I've put up over the last SEVEN years (can you believe it?). Check it out.

Second: Here's me, NOT drunk (Hah!) for once, at our housewarming party last night (well, Friday night).


Clearly, I rock. Earlier this year someone told me to throw out that wig, but I don't think it ever gets old.


Apparently that painting doesn't get old either. Notice it?


So, yeah, maybe this painting hasn't gotten the best treatment since I've taken ownership of it, but hey! My mom let it get damaged in hurricane Wilma and she tried to throw it away! Luckily Alicia saved it for me, unmounted (hah, "dismounted") it and rolled it up and mailed it to St. Louis.

At michael's they said that to have it re-mounted would cost about $600.
So that's why the canvas is just nailed into the wall.

But the thing is, whenever I say anything about that painting, I just say "That painting has been in my family for years."

And it's true. I wish I had some old photos of our old houses because I know that picture has always held a prominent spot in our various homes, it's been with us as long as I can remember, and it stands out in my memory more than any painting of flowers on a table ever could.

Anyway, the only thing I know about it is that one one corner of the canvas it says "Tizrah Mutrux 1980"

Wow. Thinking about my childhood makes me think about my mom, and that is kind of a sore subject. I mean, I kind of shrug it off most of the time, but I just googled "Kate Miano" and found this website.

At first I apple-f'ed "children" and only found the reference to how she served on the board of the Florida Keys Children's Shelter. Boy, i thought, some self promoter.

Then I tried apple-f'ing "daughter." Only one result: "My soon to be 21-year old daughter, now a junior in college, is my pride and joy."

That's it. And guess what, guys? I'm 22.

It's really hard not to hate my sister for something like this. But what I feel towards her is really nothing next to what I feel towards my mom.

Sometimes I really want to try and get her to love me again. I want to give up my strength and be her daughter, but doing so really is selling your soul to the devil.

If you're around my mother you have to be the person she wants you to be, and you have to put up with whoever she wants to be, no matter how vile a creature that is.

Oh, I'm sorry, am I being too harsh? This spring when I was really depressed, I went to my mother for help. Up to this point, no matter how mean or unfair she had been to me in my life, my mother had always supported me through my mental illness. Maybe because she liked having that control over me, maybe because that proved that she was a stronger person than I was. But either way, she had always said she would support me in that area.

So, in March I told her that I needed help, because I had been feeling suicidal. She didn't believe me. She told me she thought I was just saying that for attention (a note: if someone IS saying that for attention, isn't that some sort of sign that they NEED attention? R. I. P. Adam). I told her that I wasn't, and that I had actually overdosed twice the previous month, and I was really worried.

To which she responded: "Well, some people just aren't meant to be on this earth for very long."

She also pointed out that she, amongst other family members and friends, never thought I had much of a future.

That's why I would rather call her a "vile creature" than a mother.

I would never say something like that to ANYONE, let alone my own child.

That's why I think I could never have children. I believe that if you have children, your entire life changes. You need to be devoted to them, you know? Just because your marriage fails doesn't mean you get to pack up and move a thousand miles away, especially if that means leaving your children in the "care" of a nearly incapacitated father.

But anyway. I don't need to talk about her anymore. You know what? I just took off my ring. She gave me a ring with a conch shell and 2 seahorses for Christmas in 1997, one of her many attempts to get me to "convert" - I wasn't ever girly enough for her or into "island living" quite as much as she would have preferred. Anyways, I always wore it. Always.

But I'm sick of hoping that she'll change her mind and maybe like me some day. She told me herself that she doesn't like me, and so be it. It is a waste of time and it is too much pain for me to have any kind of lingering faith in our relationship. That ring was kind of a symbol that I always wanted her to love me, no matter how much I felt like I hated her. I have tried my entire life to get her approval, but to her I will always be, in her words, "the problem child." So just forget about it.

I'm going to try and not think about her or talk about her or write about her unless it is an amusing historical anecdote. So, I'm going to move on now.

Here is a video from the party last night. I'm really glad I didn't get drunk because it's nice to be sober once in a while.



Anyway, it's kind of funny watching myself dance on that video because I realize how I have gained weight since January but I also realize that I have pretty big boobs. I don't know about you, but I cannot help staring at boobs.

I don't have much else to post. If I didn't say it yet, please watch "The Lives Of Others." It's a great movie, even though I don't like it very much when movies end with stills. (OH SHIT I JUST GAVE AWAY THE ENDING!!!!)

Anyway. Going to go look at my boobs now.

And please, don't forget to check out the new photos page!

So I'm just sitting here listening to Sigur Ros and having a piece of Toast with Nutella.
Last week I ordered 2 Sigur Ros tickets and 1 Beck ticket, and they both came in the mail today and I am really excited.
I'm not so happy that they cost me so much money, but oh well. I won't get into the details, but the only reason I allowed myself to pay so much for the Beck ticket is because I've pretty much been wanting to see him for about 11 years.
Also, if you've ever been here before, you may have noticed I just put up a new layout. Whoopie. I just felt like doing something.
I feel like crap.
So, like, my wisdom teeth are giving me trouble. Before I go any further, I want to say I'm not just linking that wikipedia page because I'm a blogger and I cross reference all the time, but because it's kind of relevant, considering the picture of the open mouth under the "Extraction" header is of MY mouth and MY wisdom tooth, the one that's giving me grief right now.

I'll explain grief. Though my wisdom teeth (mostly the lower right one) have been coming in for a while, there was no pain. Until Sunday night. That was pretty bad pain, but I was sleeping mostly so I didn't notice it much. Then Monday was even worse, and I felt sore in my cheek. I took some tylenol and it got a little better. Then today when I woke up there was a noticeable bump on my lower right jawline (my right, so below it's on the left:)

I took some tylenol which didn't do much. A few hours later I took some Ibuprofen which didn't do much either.
I left work about 10 minutes early to go to NYU's College of Dentistry emergency center.
I got there at about 5:15 and filled out surprisingly few forms.
Then at 6:15 I went in and saw someone. He was chewing gum while asking me about my health. I thought it was kind of funny, because some of the pain i feel is like when you chew gum too long and your jaw just kills you.
Anyway, then I did one of those panoramic x-rays (which looked pretty cool, i should have asked them if I could keep it) then they took me over to be looked at by one of the oral surgeons.
What he said is I have an abcess there, and they couldn't extract the tooth tonight because the abcess is basic and the anesthetic is acidic so they wouldn't be able to properly numb me and I would be in way more pain.
So, they gave me antibiotics and vicodin and I'm supposed to go in and get the tooth pulled in a week. The vicodin isn't doing all that much, unfortunately :(
I'm just noticing now I can't really chew on the right side of my mouth. Great.
Here's a picture of the ouch. You can probably see it pretty easily. Don't worry, it doesn't look that gross.


SO anyway, what else is new.
Tonight my roommates talked to me about my drinking (and the mishaps that occasionally ensue).
I know that I went way too far on Saturday night, but i did NOT know that I passed out in the kitchen.
I think it's a good thing that I'm on painkillers this week because it makes me less likely to get wasted.
Which is kind of a disappointment, since our party is on Friday. We'll see what happens.

God my freaking jaw hurts so bad. I hope this lump gets smaller, I look like a dope.


Anyway, what else. On Friday (I guess I'm backtracking) I had, like, the worst panic attack of my life. I was kind of reminiscing about Adam and then I read one of his old emails, where he was talking about how he had attempted suicide over a girl in the past, he said... "I need you to understand that I'm not like that now-- that what happened has no bearing on our relationship.... I'm not going to go crazy."
Well, he killed himself, so that went out the window. Anyway I started crying and sobbing and choking and hyperventilating and I got really scared because I couldn't breathe and I didn't know how to stop it. This went on for about an hour. I did not know what to do. I had a prescription for some anxiety medication but I didn't think I could leave the house to get it filled. Eventually I found an old Librium pill and took that and it calmed me down. What a scary event, though, what am I supposed to do if that happens again? Worse, in public? I mean I've had mini-attacks in public, but nothing a tenth as bad as this was.

So just thinking about that makes me sad, of course. It's been over 2 years since I went to Angelus, which is crazy (no pun intended). I really miss it there, even though so many times I was so angry and so miserable, there were a lot of times I was happy, too. Like many of the things I am sentimental about, it's another experience which was completely unique, the likes of which I will never experience again.
The other unfortunate thing about times that fall in that category is that I usually take it for granted.



Anyway. Continuing moving backward. I got a new job last week, as a Waitress at a pizza joint. I love it. I love it, I can't say how much I love it. I am a people person, however lame that is. It's funny because when I was a kid the adults all said I had social problems... but they also said I needed hooked on phonics to learn how to read (well, i guess I did). I guess the point is that people change.

So I love waitressing. I especially love that I'm starting to see repeat business. That always makes me happy. I just wish I could work customer service everywhere. Or maybe just teach people how to do customer service, because honestly it seems like not a whole lot of people who have that as their profession are very good at it.

Anyway, on the relationship front there's trouble as usual. I'm not going to get into it because it's the same old stuff and it's boring for the most part. Too much feeling sorry for myself.

Speaking of which, my poor jaw :( . whimper...
I'm going to go to sleep. Then wake up in 3 hours to take my amoxycilin. Yesss.

See you guys later.