Food allergies came back. Here's the list:
Cow's milk
Cottage cheese
Kidney bean
Pinto bean
Navy bean
Brewer's yeast
Psyllium seed
Brown rice
White pepper
Poppy seed
PLUS, I am very nearly allergic to the following:
Ricotta cheese
Safflower seed

My doctor, who I just saw (I'm assuming "who" is correct, but to be honest I don't care all that much at the moment), told me that it would really be best for my system to avoid not only the allergy foods as much as possible, but the near-allergy foods, too, in case too much exposure sends it over the edge into a full-blown allergy. I refuse, however, to cut out gluten. Sorry, but I like my wheat products and additives.


Of Governments and Cows

"Of Governments and Cows"

Biblical Capitalism: You have two cows. You take care of them and sell the extra milk.

Feudalism: Your lord lends you two cows. He takes most of the milk and leaves you some.

Pure Socialism: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them into a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.

Bureaucratic Socialism: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs as the regulations say you need.

Fascism: You have two cows. The government takes them both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.

Pure Communism: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you to take care of them, and you all share the milk.

Russian Communism: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk.

Cambodian Communism: You have two cows. The government takes them both and shoots you.

Dictatorship: You have two cows. The government takes them both and drafts you.

Pure Democracy: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

Representative Democracy: You have two cows. Your neighbors vote for someone to tell you who gets the milk.

American Democracy: The government promises to give you two cows if you vote for it. After the election, the President is impeached for speculating in cow futures. The press dubs the affair "Cowgate."

British Democracy: You have two cows. You feed them sheep brains and they go mad. The government doesn't do anything.

Bureaucracy: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.

Environmentalism: You have two cows. The government bans you from milking or killing them.

Pure Anarchy: You have two cows. Your neighbors riot and kill you for trying to sell the milk.

Capitalism: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.

Clintonomics: You have two cows. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

Totalitarianism: You have two cows. The government takes them and denies they ever existed. Milk is banned.

Counter-Culture: Wow, dude, there's like... These two cows, man. You got to have some of this milk.

Feminism: You have two cows. They get married and adopt a veal calf.

Political Correctness: You are associated with (the concept of "ownership" is a symbol of the phallo-centric, war-mongering, intolerant past) two differently aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of non-specified gender.


And you're laying on the ground/All messy and dead

Soooo....yesterday Andrew and I went out to eat and we ran into this girl who's been after Andrew since the dawn of time--no, not the Slut from New Year's, this is a different girl. Long complicated backstory which NO I will not share, even if you ask. Thellie knows, but I doubt she'd tell you either. Anyway, the girl in question was giving me death glares every time she looked at me; it was all I could do not to snuggle up to Andrew even more. She picked up this weird-ass "musician" type on Tuesday, I think solely to try to make Andrew jealous...trust me, people, it's not working. If the guy will have her, more power to them both. She's called him twice since yesterday, asking him what he "thinks of Guy." I'm actually rather proud of Andrew for not pointing out the fact that he's kind of a greasy unwashed (redundancy alert, I know) creepyish (just creepyish, not full-blown creepy) OLD guy. Who apparently still lives with his mother, but he's ALMOST 50. *shudder* He reminds me of Jarvis, just less icky. Granted, that's not saying a whole lot, but still...
All right, I'm off to work in a little bit. Just wanted to update you on the pseudodrama that my life has become.


All I know is/You give me something to dream to

I've been spending a whole lot of time with The Boy lately, and I've yet to grow sick of his presence. This is a fairly good indicator that I won't, in fact, grow sick of him. I do rather hope that to be the case.
With each day that goes by I hate my job more and more, but I haven't exactly had much opportunity to look for a new one, considering that I'm always at work. Grr. Andrew's holding my sanity together. I'm starting to feel a bit bad for asking so much of him, not just time and energy, but support in all forms, as well. I know he gives it willingly, that I don't really even need to ask, but...I've always been so independent that relying on someone, anyone, is hard.
Friday morning I got a phone call from the Mankato Clinic, calling to confirm an appointment with Dr. So-and-So for Monday. I was like, uh, what? I've never heard of this doctor, let alone made an appointment with them. Turns out my primary care guy had made an appointment for me...at a time while I'd be at work, so I rescheduled. Not even knowing what kind of doctor it was for. Turns out, it's for a neurologist. For my headaches. Which are getting worse again. Don't tell Andrew, he doesn't know. He won't be happy, either, but...I suppose I ought to tell him before I start collapsing again. Which, at the rate things are going, should be in a month or two. Which is bad, because my now-rescheduled appointment with the neurologist isn't until mid-March. Grr.
I need to clean out the fridge today, and do dishes. Icky. I'm not particularly looking forward to doing either of them, but my family has been gone since last Tuesday and I haven't really done much housework since then except run a load of dishes through the wash. There are lots of leftovers that need to be dealt with, and all the pots and pans. Hm. Maybe I can enlist Andrew to help...

And now I'm off to work. Again. Grr.


Dare me to leave you/Tell me I'd never forget

Sorry it's been so long, but things have been crazy-busy here. Since the weather got crappy, I've been having to stay at work longer, which means less sleep and less time to do other things. The day program the clients go to was two hours late again today, for what would be like the fourth day in a row except that Monday was cancelled altogether and they had the weekend. But my boss went around asking people to stay and I told her I'd be staying and she said no, you can go home on time because you've been helping out so much, blah blah blah. I didn't argue, I wanted to go home.
Things are getting serious with The Boy. Normally I'd be scared out of my wits (what few I have) at the prospect of things going, you know, there, but in this case, for whatever reason, it doesn't scare me. He's the first relationship I've had no doubts about, ever. Things fit in a way I never thought they could, or would. It's bizarre and wonderful and should be terrifying but isn't. My mind is going places....yeah, I'll stop there. All I can say is on the off chance this ends, it's going to be the gold standard to which I will hold any and all other relationships from here on out. I've never been treated so well so consistently before, or....ok, now I'm going off and rambling about things you probably don't want to hear about.
Not much else to say, though, so I might as well get going. Later, all!


This can't be love/Because I feel so well

So before I move on to the main substance of the post, I have a story to tell. I was in a car accident today, kind of. Don't panic, I'm fine, the Joj is fine, the car is fine (mostly). No worries at this point. I think. Basically when I was trying to turn the car decided it would neither slow down nor turn, so I went straight into a traffic island thingy in the road. I went up over the snow and ice, but I got back off just fine, no worries at that point either. I get into the parking lot I was originally aiming for, and check the car over for damages. I see no dents, no scrapes, and nothing hanging down from underneath the car. Again, no worries. Until I get back in the car, and smell gas. Lots of it. But I made it home just fine, and told Dad, and he wasn't too terribly worried about it either. So, no biggie. He'll get whatever's wrong with it (if there's anything actually wrong with it) fixed and all will be well. Hopefully before Monday because I work and Mom works and the kids go back to school and I think that's the day when Sam goes back to TX. Speaking of Sam, we haven't fought once yet, which surprises me. Granted, we haven't exchanged more than about seven words at a time, either. Can I have a boo-yah for the uneasy truce?

On to the substance of the post. This one will actually be a bit tricky, because the Blogger format vs. the LJ format is slightly different and therefore requires more maneuvering of HTML and links and whatnot, but here's a brave effort presented by yours truly, of me and Andrew from New Years. And yes, I had tarted myself up a bit there, but I figure I dress like a convent teacher the rest of the year, why not have a little fun one night a year? So, here's me and Andrew #1. Quick aside: my hair has grown long again, so I'm getting another two inches hacked off the back and an inch off the front when I get round to it.
Yes, that's a tattoo on his arm. He has 3 of them.

All right, on to Me and Andrew #2:

I thought the above was a sweet picture. And the mark on his cheek? Not from me, actually. It's a scar from his childhood. Cooler thing yet? He's got another scar on the other side of his face, going down from his eyebrow past the corner of his eye onto his cheek, just like you read about it books. My only complaint is that it's not terribly prominent.

All right, Me and Andrew #3:

He's such a dork sometimes...but his obvious pride in being with me just...I don't know, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Last one, #4:

Aaaaand I think this one speaks for itsel


What I've felt, what I've known/Never shined through in what I've shown

So apparently I have this bad habit-slash-problem of not actually showing my emotions on my face or through my body language unless they're on the intense side. This is, in fact, a problem because my default stance is once of "F*** with me and I'll rip your face off." More or less, anyway, according to various friends. The whole visibly conveying emotions thing is rather more of a struggle than I thought it would be, but I'm getting there. Apparently on New Year's Eve I successfully conveyed "I am approachable and friendly", though Lord only knows how hard it was to do, to constantly monitor my body language and facial expressions and control even the subtlest movements therein in an effort to avoid the scary-Winter bit. Oh, and I just totally avoided the one chick who was all about Andrew, because if I'd ever looked her square in the eye she would have seen the challenge in it. It's funny...everybody there was convinced the girl could take me in a fight because she used to ride bulls or some such; everybody except Andrew, that is. I outweigh the girl by about ten pounds and have a good four-inch reach on her, plus I know how to hit people so they don't get back up. But as I was a guest in her home, I felt it best not to set anybody off in that direction.
Oh! And Thellie, next time I talk to you online or on the phone or whatever, ask me about Stacy. You'll love this, trust me. It's funnier than bunny grenades.


Even the man in the moon disappears/Somewhere in the stratosphere

So New Years with friends was good. Very interesting. This one girl was shooting daggers at me the whole time, because apparently she had designs on Andrew and he conveyed to her in no uncertain terms that he wasn't interested, and never really was--especially since not only is the girl in question married, but her husband was there. *does the awkward turtle* Apparently that's just what she's like, and that really just kinda sorta appalls me to no end. Ugh.
There's a really nifty poster up on the Coraline movie website--didn't I tell you? Neil Gaiman's Coraline has been made into a movie by Henry Selick, who's the guy who did Nightmare Before Christmas. It's just an old-fashioned advert, featuring buttons. If you've read the book, you'll understand why it's so freaking cool.
I've got some pictures from New Year's, of me and Andrew. They're really adorable and I actually look good. OK, technically they're on Andrew's camera and computer, but once I get my hands on them they will be transferred over to the public domain, i.e. my Facebook and my blog. Actually, there's one that he took of just me that turned out marvelously well, and I think I'll post that as my profile photo on my Facebook.
That's all for now, toodles!
p.s. I love Hock! He's amazing.