The sick.

I've got the sick again.
It's a draining soreness that runs all the way down my body, and it kept me in bed all day yesterday. The taste of my myriad of medicine hasn't left my mouth yet, and it's keeping me from eating or drinking most things. I'm looking pretty skeletal today, and I'm worried that I'll be too sick to catch the plane that I'm supposed to be on tomorrow afternoon.

In other news, my baby's bandmate killed himself yesterday. He was something like seventeen years old, and I'd met him on a few occasions. I always thought that he was a nice kid, and I would never expect suicide out of someone so laid-back, but you can never tell.

I tried to talk to my baby about it yesterday and find out more details, but he preferred to drink away the reality of the situation rather than face it. I'll call him again today and possibly travel down there just to see him and make sure that he's handling it alright.

He's only eighteen, so I'm not sure if he has handled grief like this before.

It's time for new contact lenses.

I stayed up until about eight o' clock in the morning last night talking to a boy I know from high school. He moved to San Diego when we were fifteen or something, but we were never actually really friends when we went to the same school. He was friends with a more elite circle of people than I was, which is no surprise since I was such an outcast during those years of my life. He took notice that somehow over time I actually grew more attractive based on my Facebook profile, and we ended up having a wonderful extended conversation about human attraction and superficiality and sex. It felt kind of like connecting with an internet stranger because we really hardly know one another, and it eventually moved to a telephone conversation that eventually exhausted itself once both of our phones ran out of battery power.

Besides that, I didn't do much last night. I did visit the doctor's office yesterday just to assure myself that I had a clean slate before I headed out of town next week.

It's interesting that I feel really comfortable naked underneath a paper sheet on a sterilized medical bed, but the idea of sitting in a hairdresser's chair evokes nothing but squirming, intense fear in me.

Also.
I bought a belt yesterday with two giant ostentatious elephants on it. It makes me happy.

The condition my condition is in.

Well, I just woke up and had two sandwiches of bologna and watercress and honey-roasted almonds and mayonnaise on whole-grain bread. Last night was interesting. Some girl at work beat my record in the ice bucket game, so I did it again for an entire hour. Afterwards, my arm had strange white spots on it, but I was back to normal in no time at all.

I haven't done much today except for nag my friend to play the menu game with me and check my messages on an online dating website. The trouble that I find with the website is that it makes me answer questions on a regular basis about the way that I behave in relationships, and then it refers me to people who behave similarly. I am a mean girl in matters of the heart, so I don't really want to meet anyone like me. So perhaps I am one of the few people on the website that seeks out people with a low compatibility rating to mine. It's a nuisance to explain that to the people that message me with the excitement that we have a high match rating, however.

Evening at the office.

So last night, I finally went back to work.
It was pretty slow in the beginning of the night, so the girls decided to make their own fun. We keep a large cylinder cooler downstairs in the dressing room filled with Capri-Suns and ice, and our stylist proposed a contest to see who could hold their hand in the ice water for the longest.
Veronica went first and got something like thirty seconds, then Skye lasted for about twelve seconds. Then our stylist tried and did it for nearly two minutes, and then Kristen set the record at four minutes.
Shortly after she set this record, I walked in the dressing room and heard about this contest. I knew that I could this, so I took my jewelry off and stuck my hand in the water. I'd be lying if I said that it didn't hurt, but I set the new record at fifteen minutes.

It was probably the highlight of my week, honestly.

Then I returned home from work, and some boy that I hadn't spoken to in a few months had called my phone six times while I was gone. I did not call him back.

In today's news, I have commissioned a portrait of myself and gotten back in touch with an old internet friend. I have also finally admitted that all of this Michael Phelps hype is deserved and that I would, in fact, sleep with him.

Latest adventures in cyberspace productivity.

I haven't generated any sort of income for about two weeks now.
But it doesn't mean that I haven't been productive.

I've done a great deal of cleaning since I've come back to my apartment, including burying my fish Donny. It seems heartless, but I will probably go to the pet store in the next few days and buy another fish with similar coloring and just name that one Donny again.

I've gone to a few concerts in the past few days, met some boy who looks like a dead-ringer for Billy Zane in his prime, and also signed up with a few websites that will hopefully encourage some sort of organization in my life.

Exhibit A: http://www.dopointoh.com
It's just one of those to-do list websites with an aesthetically pleasing interface that always motivates me until I get bored of it.

Exhibit B: http://www.anobii.com
It's some online library/bibliophile-sharing community. I'm trying to add all of the books in my apartment onto the shelf feature, but I've got something close to two hundred and fifty books between my three shelves, so it might take a while.
Progress so far - http://www.anobii.com/zhao/books

That is all.

Forgive me my hiatus.

I left for a while to go see my mother, my family, and various doctors.
I underwent several tests to figure out what sort of trouble my kidneys are going through these days, and then for a while I was on so many prescriptions that doing anything other than lying in bed was out of the question.
During this period of time, I made no progress on the book that I am planning to write, but I did figure out some sort of five-year plan for myself.

I finally recovered enough to make the two hour drive back to my own apartment yesterday morning. I spent the majority of yesterday with a friend. She's one of the few that I really have left, since all of my other friends and I have fallen out over the years.
I'm not sad that I don't have more friends.
I think that it's good to have high standards for the people with which one chooses to associate. After all, a smaller pool of friends mathematically reduces the likelihood of unnecessary drama.

I'd like to live a simpler life altogether.

One.

The whole idea of confiding the details of my life and my questionable moral practices to a world of late-night electronic lurkers is probably not a good one.
But it is my choice to make, and I'm a goddamn grown-up so I'm going to do it.

As it stands now, I am sitting in the swivel chair that has stolen so many years of my life and trying desperately to just walk away and perhaps clean up the remains of the "dinner party" that I hosted last night. And by dinner, I mean white cheddar popcorn and gummy candy. And by party, I mean we watched Hocus Pocus and talked shit about people.

I am traveling to my mother's house soon, but I can't leave my own house like this.
Instead of cleaning, however, I am going to play backgammon on the internet.
I promise that I'm not always this unproductive.