...mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain.

Memories fade as time passes. Things change; they're no longer recorded as how they were, but as we wish they had been. Bitterness, longing, joy, betrayal--every possible emotion colours our memories until they bear only the slightest similarities to the actual event.
That in itself is sad, I think. Even the past is mutable; nothing is set in stone. While that should be relieving, knowing that even mistakes of the worst sort can be forgotten or glossed over, instead it makes me worry a bit. If our memories change the way we see things, how will we ever know what really happened? What was true, what's delusion or wishful thinking?

Sorry, I didn't mean to start on such a downspirited note, but today my friends graduated from university, and I was supposed to be with them. Through a series of events, though, I wasn't even able to finish out the year. While a portion was my fault, and I acknowledge that, an equal portion--though unrelated--was not. Various tests are still being run; they're hoping an endoscopy will show some explanation for the weird weight loss thing that happened back in January and February.

My allergy test results came back. I'm allergic to some simple things; unfortunately, it's not like a gluten allergy that you can actively avoid. Turns out, apart from my happy food allergies, I'm also allergic to dust, pollen, and mold.
Which are kind of everywhere. Fortunately, allergy shots should help. I'm both nervous and excited about this; after all, it will reduce the severity of my allergies a great deal. But at the same time, I don't like injections. I don't scream or cry or anything; I just don't like them. I'm not sure if anyone truly enjoys having an inch-long (or longer) needle inserted into their flesh and having a viscous liquid pushed through said needle into said flesh.
Or it could just be me.

On a completely different note, I got into a blazing row with my parents. I was reminded that I'm a failure and a disappointment, and lectured on being so. I didn't respond well--I don't think that, in a situation like that, it's possible to respond well--, but I didn't yell, cry, or say anything I regret. I thanked them for pointing out my shortcomings; told them that since clearly their opinion of me was so low that they didn't really want my input; and walked out. On the same day, the computer firewall was somehow turned off and the computer was infested with viruses, trojans, and spyware up the wazoo. I'm using my brother's computer right now, since the other one's still not working. I've spent about 3 hours on it at this point, trying to fix the bloody thing. I'm getting there, but it's slow and it makes me want to scream. Or cry. Or kick it.

I'm conflicted right now. I'm not sure how to respond to some things that are going on; well, that was poorly worded. Let me try again. I know how people are expecting me to respond to certain things that are going on, but I don't know if those responses would be best for me. They make sense, they're reasonable and understandable, but not necessarily the best idea. Granted, I'm not exactly the type to sit down and ponder the appropriate answer for hours on end, debating pros and cons with myself until I've reached the inevitable conclusion that Option X is better than Option Y. At best, I go with my gut instinct. At worst, I flip a coin. It's probably a bad thing, my not thinking about my decisions, but my "gut" has rarely told me wrong. It's when I haven't listened to it that I've had problems.

I miss my Seattle guys. And my Taylor and Muskegon friends. Oh, well. I'm here. They're not. We're all sucky correspondents. I guess that's all there is to it, really.

On that note, good night.

oh, P.S. Blizzard, the company that made the highly addictive World of Warcraft, announced last night the release of a new (kind of) game: StarCraft 2. If you're not sure what, if any, significance this has, ask a gamer. They'll tell you all about it, possibly for hours upon hours, forever and ever amen.

P.P.S. I'm a huge fan of Robin McKinley, and in exploring her site recently I read a paragraph she wrote about LotR, and I thought I'd paste it here (from here) to maybe try to explain to some of you people some of the reasons why I don't like Tolkien. At all. So here it is.
"I'm aware, at least some of the time, of his defects: there are no women at all in LOTR, although Galadriel at least has a few lines and Eowyn almost gets to do something (although Merry does it first); everybody speaks Old High Forsoothly, except the hobbits, who incline to Early Public Schoolboy; and there are an awful lot of things that seem to be tall and fair, or as clear as clear water, or that shine like silver, or that are silver and shine like the stars, or that are dusk-silver as water under the stars, or . . . well, if you've read Tolkien, you know what I mean."
If course, I have other reasons, but this is a well-expressed paragraph stating some of why I dislike his writing. So there you are.

1 comment:

Leela said...

Instead of puncturing your epidermis with miniature metal pipes, you could get sublingual drops that do essentially the same thing in an easier format.
I just started taking BioAllers Grass Allergy Relief drops, and consequently googled sublingual allergy therapy. Basically, it's the same thing as the shot - a much diluted solution of the allergen which allows your immune system to slowly build immunity. They work over time, so I can't tell really make out much difference right now. But I'm also allergic to tree pollens, dust mites, mold, cats, and dogs so that could be it too.
If you talk to your allergist he can probably get drops tailored to your allergies. I'm just going to skip the middleman and get the other applicable types of drops for 10 bucks a bottle.