I haven't been here in forever! *Looks around* Woa!

I've had an...interesting time these past weeks. The musical I was in turned out freakin' great, which it should have considering the extra-long everyday rehearsals, and the enormous orange wig that had to be secured with a pack and a half of bobby pins. Now I have time to stretch and train like an Olympic medalist to have a shot at getting into the Advanced Ballet class next year...whoosh! This had better work!

My stomach's been okay-ish for the most part. It still protests, just to keep me on my toes, but I can function (knock on wood!). It seems the side effects to one of the meds I'm taking actually might make the problem worse...so we'll have to play with dosage for a while. Sigh. But really, there isn't anything too bad to complain about.

Oh yes, and sitting alone in the middle of three couples is extraordinarily awkward, even when  you're all watching Disney movies and have to belt out all the songs. But it was fun!

Mmff. Don't pay any attention to me. I'm...happy. Really. Not thrilled or anything, but I'm fine. Just feeling sorry for myself, in an eye-rollingly-cliched example of my age group. But I'll cheer up. It's kind of nice not to have to be rushing around everywhere, at least for a little while.

Now's the time to relax and read books and write and bake things that contain lots of sugar.

Sounds good to me. :)

I mean it.

Look. Okay. There's an "Open Mic" (you DO have to sign up ahead of time) in town for people my age. It's the first Friday of every month during the school year. And last year, I went to all but one and sang at half of them.

This year, however, has been a freaking series of unfortunate events book.

Why? Well, because of this absolutely positively hideous irritating irrational over-long self-destroying frustrating unfair inescapable inconvenient awful SICKNESS!

Three months ago, I had to cancel because I was sick. Two months ago, I didn't get to the sign-ups in time. Last month, the open mic was canceled for snow. And this month, this *exercises award-worthy self control to keep from swearing* month when I thought finally I'd be able to sing, when I'd be able to have ONE NIGHT when I got to show off and to be with my friends and to NOT THINK ABOUT ANYTHING BUT WHAT I WANT TO at the ONE PLACE where I was an important part of what was going on, not just background or support or sidekick, I DON'T EVEN GET TO *again with the self-control* GO!

BECAUSE I'M SICK AGAIN!

I had to miss half my classes, which sucked, but as it was the first day of the second semester I wasn't TOO worried about it. But NOOO. And when I attempted to sleep of the nausea- which sort of worked- I managed somehow in the hour and a half I spent resting to give myself a swollen, scratchy throat, which completely destroyed any vestige of musical ability I had left.

I ALREADY WAS GOING TO HAVE TO BACK OUT THANKS TO THE NAUSEA. WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME THIS TOO?

Hot water and honey did absolutely nothing for either issue. Nor did a shower or covering my head with a towel and inhaling steam.

This is so...freaking...unfair.

I know I sound like a spoiled child, and compared to many I suppose I am, but considering the past SIX MONTHS I do believe I have a right to my immaturity.

At the risk of being clichéd, FML.

Bonjour mes amis!

Ahhh. I see you there, surprised at me. "Who's this chick?" you think, and then: "Ohhhhhh. Her. I thought she'd fallen off a cliff and been trampled by stampeding wildebeest."

On that note, I've finally succeeded in teaching myself the beginning to "Circle of Life" from The Lion King, and sing it at the top of my lungs (because you HAVE to sing it at the top of your lungs) whenever I can find the opportunity.

Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba! 
Sithi uhm ingonyama          

Nants ingonyama bagithi baba!
Sithi uhhmm ingonyama
Ingonyama

Siyo Nqoba!                   
Ingonyama
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala 

As for my stomach? Well. I'd thought we were getting along pretty well, thanks to some take-on-the-spot-immediate-relief pills I'd been issued...that is, until we thought to ask WHY there were only half of the ordered pills in the bottle.

My insurance company has refused to pay for them.

Yep. Just when I'd found something that might make this manageable, those...freamblating...people...sent out a letter informing me that they'd no longer pay for that medication. Oh, unless I got cancer and had to go through chemotherapy. I'm just not sick enough for them.

I feel very much like marching up to them and shoving my problems in their face, especially after yesterday. Why yesterday? Because, my dear reader, yesterday was awful.

Not only did I get as sick as I'd been over the summer, when this whole mess solidified, but I managed to (1) do so during school, which is a bad, uncomfortable, embarrassing place to fall ill; (2), miss more than half of the day, which means that I now have no knowledge of important subjects, and a week before midterms, too; and (3) miss a Star Wars party, which I had been looking forward to for a while (c'mon, it's Star Wars AND a social life ALL IN ONE! WOW!).

So.

Managed to extract another medication from the briar patch, but it makes me terribly sleepy- one dose and I'm out for the next eight hours. NOT what I need on my schedule. And I'd have to take it three times a day, a half-hour before meals. Hm. Right. I'll eat while I'm sleeping.

Groan.

Read any good books lately?

Flaming Chestnuts!

I have just, in the interest of finding other Felicity/Ben captioned comics and pictures, googled "Felicity Ben American Girl Captions."

The first link is to Fanfiction.net.

The summary to my Benicity fanfic, "Inevitable Predictability," is quoted beneath the link.

Let me repeat that.

MY FANFIC is QUOTED on the FIRST RESULT on GOOGLE!

I am in the happiest state of shock I've known since I got an 100 on my first Physics exam.

I can't even articulate properly.

HOLY CARP!

Well, well, well.

What have we here.

I wish I could tell you that everything was fine, but unfortunately...okay, I can still TELL you that, but I'd be lying. And that would kind of be a jerky thing to do.

Beef jerky.

Anyway.

I'm trying out a couple of different things, now, to help me. Emotionally, not physically, because while the nausea and cramping is still there, I've got a month left to go on the trial run of the main med I'm currently on. Oh, and I'm switching doctors and GI specialists, because my current ones are, respectively, useless and disorganized. So that should delay everything for a while. Yay.

No, this is different. I've gone in for two rounds of biofeedback, with a very nice woman and a very comfortable chair, and it has calmed me down, but only for the duration of the time that I'm actually thinking about it. And it's 45 minutes away, so not practical for my schedule. That's gone, then.

I'm looking for someone to talk to. Someone uninvolved, someone whose reactions I won't have to worry about. I'm horrible at opening up to the friends I see every day; for one thing, I've never had something awful enough to need opening up before, and for another, it's always been my preference to deal with my problems on my own. Emotional problems, especially. They're a bit of a new experience for me these past months, especially as things get darker and colder (I HATE being cold, and I always seem to be so, no matter how many shirts I wear- even if I wear long underwear!) and this whole issue continues to be unsolved.

I'm looking for a nutritionist, because I want to know exactly what I can eat, when.  I'm gaining weight around my middle, but more than that I'm seriously concerned about the food that I am eating; I know it's not healthy. White bread, mostly, and sometimes apples or a bit of vegetable. Before all this I had a pretty healthful diet; not to say that I denied myself popcorn or chocolate or cake, but for the main meals I would lean towards whole grains, fruits, things like broccoli. I know, I'm a freak, but I really like raw broccoli and raw spinach.

Now everything I eat becomes a war between it and my stomach, leaving me feeling bloated and awful. I don't have time for this. I need this to get better NOW. For my health, both kinds.

I'm so much more...fragile. I cry far more than I'm used to, and more than I should be. I look at everything that I can't do or eat and, while I know this is poisonous thinking, it discourages me. I should be looking ahead, realizing what I CAN do and be happy, but that's becoming increasingly difficult as time wears on.

The holidays are coming up soon. That will be a real challenge. All that lovely, warm, delicious comfort food that I can't eat. If I were losing the bit of weight that I've gained (oh yeah, that is another thing- I've never, ever, ever worried about my weight before) by this denial, I'd feel a smidgen better, but the opposite is true. Doesn't seem fair.

Doesn't seem right.

AAAANNNDDD SHEEEEEEE’SSS ALLLIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

My fanfiction is still embarrassingly un-updated, but I shall try to get past that. For I have NEWS!

About COSTUMES!

Which, as we all know, are the best things in the world beside chocolate cake. Chocolate lava cake, piping hot with vanilla ice cream on the side. Mmmmm.

Ahem.

A friend of mine had the idea to do (wait for it) PRINCESS BRIDE for Halloween!*

Okay, okay, not THAT novel. But still. It's epic. He's the Dread Pirate Roberts (/Westley/Farm Boy/The Man In Black), and he found someone to be Inigo (Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die), and I'm Buttercup. (Buttercup doesn't really have an awesome quote or defining characteristic. But she's part of Princess Bride, and she's funny when she gets all dramatic. So there.)

Now, the problem is that I don't have a costume. And this isn't a matter of finding a random reddish dress and strutting around for a while. No. Because I cannot do any costume (if you'll pardon my French) half-assed. Really. I can't. That part of my brain was surgically removed at birth for a top-secret government project. It's a challenge to cope with sometimes, but I manage.

THAT means, then that when searches of Goodwill, Party City, and various other stores did not turn up either (a) the perfect dress (which I hadn't expected to find) or (b) a dress that could be reasonably modified to work, I needs must CREATE IT ALL FROM SCRATCH!

Wait.

Let me repeat that.

CREATE IT ALL FROM SCRATCH!

Now, it's not as if I've never picked up a needle. I like to refashion clothing, costumes, T-shirts. But most of that is a simple job that can be carried out with a pair of scissors, a couple of safety pins, and maybe one or two small stitches here and there. The dress that Buttercup wears for the longest time and for her most important scenes, however, is a whole 'nother category.

Oh, it was fairly simple to begin with, and I've managed to simplify it further. You see, this Sunday I took an old bridesmaid dress I'd gotten from a thrift store, some extensive research, and two full-size bedsheets and basted together a "rough draft" of what the gown should look like. I'm quite proud of it, actually. I still have to figure out how to do the collar, but the rest of it turned out very nice.

Today, then, it's (hopefully) to the fabric store, and then a rather more careful measuring and sketching job than went into the first copy. This has to be finished by Friday- Thursday night, really. I also have to decide whether or not to buy a blonde wig, because my hair is short-ish and somewhere between brown and blonde, so it won't look awful, but on the other hand a large portion of the book is spent describing Buttercup so I figure I'd better get that right. But the only wigs that I can afford are cheap and fake-looking.

It's a perfectionist thing.

Anyway, I'm incredibly psyched and incredibly holy-iocane-powder-I've-only-got-four-days-to-do-this-in.  It's going to be epic. I will MAKE it epic. If it isn't epic, then y'all had better get far away, because I am going to punch something.

*Until about a week ago, I was going to be a 1920's/1930's newspaper boy. That was an awesome costume, also, and luckily my brother thought it was cool and decided to agree to tolerate my prodding and over-enthusiasm let me help him with it.

<whine>

I do not have an ulcer.

I do not have acid reflux.

I do not have a virus, a peanut allergy, or celiac disease. I do not have a heart problem, fluid in my lungs, or a perforation in my esophagus. I do not have a hole in my stomach. I am not trying to avoid school. I am not depressed. I do not have a bacterial infection. I do not have a sinus infection. I am not pregnant. My Tanner Stages are right where they should be. I do not have appendicitis. I do not have an injured skull or central nervous system. I do not have a brain tumor, concussion, or other neurotic problem. I am not vastly overworked. I do not have a sensitive throat. I do not have a kidney stone or a bezoar. I do not have gastrointestinal inflammation. I do not have cancer.

I have not been tested for lactose intolerance, but most signs point to me not having that, either.

I possibly have mild hypothyroidism. This is unconfirmed.

What I DO have is:

A slow-moving stomach

Tension headaches (sometimes possible migraines)

Nausea

Chest pain

and frustration.

You see, I'm not getting better.

The headaches are probably because I hold my tension in my body. Okay. Fine. Give me a technique to fix that. I've already given up two plays, a dance camp, and a musical to reduce stress. I still have headaches.

The chest pain is apparently an inflammation of my ribs, that "just happens" in people my age. "All the time." And no, "no one knows why." For that I have the 12-hour equivalent of Motrin. It works, mostly.

The slow-emptying stomach means that I have to eat small meals frequently, and I should try to avoid fiber: raw fruits, vegetables, whole grains, bran, beans. Also chocolate. And fat. And grease. And spices.

Fram. I like those things. ALL of them.

The hypothyroidism, if confirmed (which would require taking more blood. Did I mention that I'm possibly anemic or low-blood-sugared? Unconfirmed, of course.), means that I should eat lots of fiber. See above. I'm screwed.

The nausea can be graphed in a piece-wise function. Constant when I wake up. Increasing when I drink water. Increasing at a sharper angle when I eat breakfast. Constant up to and including the time I eat small-meal-number-two. Decreasing up to and including the time I eat small-meal-number-three. Increasing immediately afterwards. Decreasing. Constant. Past 3 steps repeat for every other small meal. Increasing or decreasing, depending upon the day, after the last small meal. Constant. Bed.

It is not getting better. I'm managing it. I have to. But it's not getting better. I've ordered some med from Canada (it's no longer available in the US) that won't arrive until October, and even then is supposed to take 2-3 months to begin working. If it does. Until that point, I'll have to continue taking the three other drugs I've got for nausea, one of which makes me hungry and sleepy.

I'm living on white bread and occasional, tentative sips of vegetable soup. I am tired. I am hungry. I am not healthy, and I can feel it. I cannot exercise more than a short, light walk; not always that.

I am happy when I am doing lots of activities, lots of things that I love. That is how I’ve lived for all my life, up until six weeks ago. Right now I have an insurmountable pile of schoolwork. I have no activity other then dance, which as mentioned above, nausea has/may require me to miss. I am not flexible. I cannot stretch, because I cannot bend over without the bile rising.

I am in no danger. I am far luckier than far too many people. All serious causes for my affliction have been ruled out; whatever it is now, it seems a cure will be found. I am merely uncomfortable and temporarily disabled.

And it sucks.

</whine>