dramaturgy: ([TWW] ???)
1. My students, by turns, are wonderful and know absolutely nothing and it shows.

2. This weekend was not fun. Want to know why? Because Saturday I got a cancellation notice from my insurance company. Admittedly, I called them on Wednesday to pay by card over the phone when payment was due THAT DAY, but I didn't think they'd get it done that fast. I don't get it, do they print out a new cancellation every month and then express mail it at 12:01 on the due date if you haven't paid yet?

Anyway, I paid over the phone and didn't think anything more of it, but I took this as a sign to change my car insurance, which I was going to do when my year with Eveready was up anyway. I matched my current policy best I could with the options Progressive gave me, and it's going to be like sixty bucks a month cheaper. So this morning I sent Eveready a letter telling them where they could shove their insurance. (Except nicer than that.) Of course, I checked and the money had already cleared. (So they cancelled my policy but had no trouble taking my money.) But I wrote they could either give me the full month they took the money for or let the cancellation hold and let me know so I can get the appropriate start date for my new insurance.

3. Friday I was referred to an endocrinologist by Dr. Tuckman and he gave me the form and said, "Call this number!" so this morning I did and they were like "Oh we need to have the form/your recent bloodwork/first born child faxed to us." And also that they're booking into December-January right now, which means February. Ugh.

Kill me now.
dramaturgy: ([HP] I hate you all.)
A cold may have just turned into a sinus infection. Fine.

Bee came and went last week. We managed to see both parts of Angels in America (amazing), John Gallagher Jr at Rockwood Music Hall (great show), Promises Promises (Molly Shannon's first night, amazing, and Kristin Chenoweth sang the opening to "O Canada" at the stage door), Next To Normal (we took [livejournal.com profile] memoryofroses with us. It was awesome, Jason Danieley and Marin Mazzie are THE FUCKING SHIT), and American Idiot. I dropped off my resume for Michael Mayer, so we'll see if anything comes of that.

Now I am trying to catch up with the things I ignored while she was here that I hadn't been able to do beforehand. Except I just feel like crap and like all I'm doing is disappointing people. People have been telling me all week, "Oh, you look miserable!" Well... YEAH. I'm sick. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem a little miserable and pathetic when they're sick?

I cancelled my 101 class on Wednesday. Because seriously. They did not want to be there and I did not want to teach, so I figured we could all just stay home and be happy.

Blech. I have a follow up appointment with Dr. Tuckman for my thyroid, I might see if he'll give me some antibiotics too. MY MOMMY DIAGNOSED ME OVER THE INTERNET, NOW GIVE ME SOME DRUGS.
dramaturgy: ([House] I'm proud of you.)
Universe, when I said "Someone is going to die today," I didn't mean me. Touche, well played.
dramaturgy: ([Fringe] I've got it Asterisk.)
My bad/weird/scary dream for today was that an opinion I posted on Twitter got posted to [livejournal.com profile] mock_the_stupid and I was like, seriously guys. And then I remembered I posted it to Twitter and not LJ, and the dream logicked itself out of existence.

I went to the dentist and he gave me novocaine. I'm still numb. I hate you, world.
dramaturgy: ([SPN] Not drunk enough.)
I wish the worst thing that had happened in the last 48 hours was missing Jonathan Groff at Promises, Promises, but no. Then I had to get rear-ended on 347 mere miles from Stony Brook. We're both (Bee and I) okay, a little sore but nothing that an ibuprofen cocktail won't cure, and the damage to my car is cosmetic (I think. My license plate is bent and the paint is scratched) but the damage to her car is kind of epic. The fender broke and the Ford symbol was like, in her engine instead of outside on the grill.

We called the cops and they got bitchy because I didn't have my registration card with me (the state of NY sends you SO MUCH CRAP when you register a car and I've been here a grand total of nine months, how the fuck was I supposed to know?) but the report was nice and straight forward. She admitted fault, so no one has to put up a fight for anything. I think I'm going to call tomorrow and see if I can take my car to the dealership in the afternoon (depending on how tired I am) or on Saturday, just to check it out. If it's cosmetic I won't bother fixing it, but I just want to make sure that nothing got damaged and is going to fall off somewhere on I-80.

I also think I should call my insurance and see if I need to switch my address to Iowa. 'Cause I don't want to (call them or switch) but even less do I want my insurance to get cancelled.

I could just switch my insurance company but I'm too fucking exhausted to think about it right now. Maybe in the fall.

There's also this fascinating kerfuffle happening amongst people in the TV/film/theatre business, talking about this Newsweek article wherein the guy (I can't be arsed to remember his name) basically said, "gay actors cannot play straight" and his first victims were Sean Hayes (currently in Promises, Promises) and my honey Jonathan Groff (now on Glee, macking it up with Lea Michele again), who honestly had me fooled until he came out of the close this fall for a number of reasons. It's just been a wanksplosion. Since I have no more schoolwork I think I might collect articles and comments and the like and write a wank report. Because this is seriously fucking epic.

Also, speaking of gay, [livejournal.com profile] roseanna and I are going to see The Temperamentals tonight. We're going to download and watch Supernatural when we get home. And then she is leaving me in the morning. :(
dramaturgy: ([SA] Spring + Summer)
Ugh, my glands are huge and I wish that were a euphemism for something, but it isn't. It would be nice to not be sick, especially since I used up all my sick excuses last week when I was mentally not fit for human company. I'm not much better this week and I don't know why.

But tomorrow I GET MY CAR. Val will take me to Herbee Dodge one last time, I will take care of the insurance mumbo jumbo, and I will drive away with my cute little Neon. And we will live happily ever after.

And then I have to start looking for a summer job. Damnit.
dramaturgy: ([Buffy] Working hard.)
Eugh cramps. */tmi*

So, any New York people, or people who will be in the city on April 14 and would like to see American Idiot cheaply ($27) should tell me before tomorrow. We have only ten people in our class and we need at least fifteen to get the group rate, so we're trying to scrape the people together.

Even if it's not necessarily your sort of thing but you think it could be fun to see, $27 is not that much to toss in the direction of a Broadway show. I'm excited to see John Gallagher Jr on stage with a bunch of other people (Gerard Canonico, Tony Vincent, and Mary Faber come to mind).

I'm bummed because we don't get to see The Pride for class, but I still need to go. Come onnnnnn TDF!

ETA: Another person I knew in high school got married to another person whose existence I was somewhat aware of in high school. Is it too early to break out Jose?
dramaturgy: ([SPN] One of those days.)
I feel like poor Cas looks in this icon.

I fell off a ladder in the theatre today. Luckily, it was just when I was coming down and I missed the bottom rung (or slipped, it happened too fast for me to really remember clearly). I went down on my ass and then started to fall backwards into the scaffold that was behind me. Cracked my head. It wasn't bleeding, and I didn't go unconscious at any time. I could feel everything and move fingers and toes, all that. They kept me immobile, called paramedics, and at the hospital they gave me a CAT scan. Everything looked clear, and I could walk in a straight line, so they released me. I'm sore, right now it's no worse than if I'd exercised real hard or slept at a weird angle, but it'll probably be bad tomorrow. I have Ibuprofen, so barring unforeseen circumstances, this is just another stupid accident and another story to tell about silly Liz. More than anything, I was stunned and then embarrassed.

This week sucked. I'm going to work on picspam now.

This today and Wednesday the SATD shot a staple through her thumb. I think someone said the name of the Scottish Play.
dramaturgy: ([Celebs] *fistpump!*)
Damn, what a week.

Tuesday, V took me down to the dealership in West Islip where I looked at a cute little Neon. I liked it, we haggled (well, V haggled for me, I'm just not that awesome) and I was supposed to have a test drive today, but when we got down there, he wasn't in because of the snow. I was a little bummed because there wasn't a call or anything to reschedule, so now I have to call first thing tomorrow.

Wednesday I went and saw Fuerza Bruta for class, and I hope to be able to put my thoughts about it on paper for class. It was... pure, amazing, beautiful spectacle. It was an environmental piece, so there were no seats. We moved around in the space as set pieces moved around us, there was dance, they came into the audience, we got wet, there was no plot, IT WAS AMAZING. Though the New York incarnation is not exactly like this, it's a pretty good montage of what was going on:



It was amazing. If it weren't seventy bucks a head (our class had a group deal for $35) then I would go back in a heartbeat.

Thursday I woke up and had the beginnings of a cold -- I still have it, but you know how it just hits you on that first day and you don't even want to move? Yeah. I didn't go to class and I called in to work and stayed here in the apartment. I got up this morning and figured I may as well go in whether there were classes or not because of the snow (there weren't), and so I worked a few hours to keep myself on track.
dramaturgy: ([SA] MBN.)
Moving 1000 miles from home is hard. There's a reason the only people who've done it are pioneers, criminals, and Super-Man.

Seriously. Getting the doctor who has known me since I was seven to give me an antidepressant was hard enough.

I woke up late this morning. Why do I do this to myself? I'm only shooting myself in the foot.
dramaturgy: ([HP] Rise above our anguish.)
(Did I forget to mention my suddenly painful mole-growth-thing on my underarm that looks suspiciously like number ten on the list of What Skin Cancer Melanoma Looks Like?)

FML.

Yeah, I know, it's probably nothing and that's probably what the dermatologist will say if I go, but seriously. I am good at finding things to worry about and I'm going to go anyway.

(ETA: Okay, now that [livejournal.com profile] roseanna mentions it they really look like skin tags too, but you know how it goes. The one time you don't check, it's cancer.)
dramaturgy: (Default)
Well, we have a plan now, at least. Whether it pans out or not remains to be seen but I don't feel like having a nervous breakdown anymore which is always a good place to start. Maybe best of all, it doesn't involve [livejournal.com profile] strangerface's couch. (Not that your couch doesn't sound lovely, it's more the two hour commute that makes me want to cry. I'm sure I will make couchsurfing into an Olympic sport because omg Manhattan.)

On the other hand, two days in a car with my parents kind of makes me want to cry. But I will survive.

This would all be better if I didn't feel exactly like I did when I had my sinus infection in February. :(
dramaturgy: ([Heroes] Paramedic.)
So an ER visit is not how I like to start my day (unless I could get Peter Petrelli to be my paramedic, in which case I would probably have more "accidents"). Not to alarm everyone, there weren't any paramedics involved this time around, just me. I woke up a few different times during the night with a tight chest -- as in, HOLY FUCK CAN'T BREATHE -- and did my best to remedy it. When I woke at 3, the inhaler kind of worked but not enough to where I was comfortable enough to go back to sleep. So I sat in the bathroom while I ran the shower on hot and the steam helped a lot. So I went back to sleep and woke up about a quarter of five, same story. Except this time inhaler didn't work and neither did the shower (and YES I was starting to panic but I was trying NOT to panic because I know that wouldn't help). I even got dressed and sat outside for a bit just in case it was something in the house. But I panicked anyway and since my mom is at my grandmother's and I would have felt guilty calling and waking her up (because trust me, my mom is not awake right now), I drove myself to the ER.

It only took about 30 minutes all in all (DeWitt's ER is not exactly County General or Seattle Grace, here), and the doctor gave me a script for prednisone to open up my bronchial tubes. They gave me a dose there too and it seems to be working. I just hate that this indicates that I am now clearly an adult because all I can see is the dollar sign attached to everything. I hate money, and I hate not being clear on what my insurance is since that's been a pain in my ass ever since I turned 23. One of the ladies at the eye doctor yesterday when we discovered I'm not insured for eye care said, "Isn't being a college graduate fun?" and I was forced to answer, "No, so far, it blows." And then fill out the blank check my dad had given me for $339.40.

In happier news, Jonathan Groff is playing Dionysus in The Bacchae at the Public Theatre in August, and I am moving to New York in August. Fate? Possibly. Coincidence? Considerably more likely. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and swing it before school starts. Yes, I am a crazy fangirl, but a) you wouldn't have me any other way, and b) ...



... if loving him and what he can do on stage is wrong, then I don't want to be right.
dramaturgy: (Default)
I am either tired, hungry, or nauseous. It's like my body can't decide. :(
dramaturgy: ([SA] Everything we touch is dust.)
So I went to work even though I felt a little blaaargh because I figured I'd be in back doing freight anyway, and I was, but I still didn't feel great. And then I started to feel nauseous. And then I felt even worse, and to make the long story short, I threw up. My projectile vomiting aim needs work. They sent me home, just in case. I think it's more likely that I ate something bad than it being the flu or anything. I do feel like crap but it's allergies crap and not viral crap.

Blah. *die*
dramaturgy: ([SA] Hymns upon your lips.)
I feel SO much better with the antibiotics. I swear, I literally FELT myself getting better. Of course that might have been suddenly being able to breathe through my nose again. \o/

Tonight after I got off work I didn't really feel like going home, so I went to the movie theater in Davenport to see a late show of whatever. I ended up going to see Taken, because a) Liam Neeson kicks my ass, your ass, and everybody else's ass too, and b) there were no more Inkheart showings and Frost/Nixon didn't start until 10:25 which would have made me stay out a little later than I wanted to.

So I saw Taken. Was it over the top, maybe? Absolutely. Was it awesome? Fuck yes. The fact that Liam Neeson basically dwarfs EVERYONE ELSE IN THE FRAME makes him about twenty times more awesome. I could continue my list of why Liam Neeson is awesome but honestly, it would probably start to look a lot like Chuck Norris facts and it's late. It was a fun movie.

ETA: Okay, I should go to bed since I'm going to Iowa City with my mom tomorrow to meet my grandparents \o/ but I had to share this YouTube video of Christian Bale's freakout... remixed.

dramaturgy: ([Buffy] Puppet!Angel is unhappy.)
Sooooo I walked into the doctor's office today and basically he said, "You have Ifeellikecrapitis, here's some antibiotics." And I went WOO because if they work, I will be so happy. He also said to keep pushing fluids, which... I have been drinking orange juice like it's going out of style. And I am getting tired of OJ but it feels nice on my throat.

He also said that I should get more exercise. Which I agree with, but when my throat is raw from coughing and I've only slept a couple hours at a time, that is not the best time to suggest it to me.

I am watching Dr. Phil again and he has Nancy Grace on. I AM SO TIRED OF HER. I'm over her. And she brings up every opportunity to bring up her ~*kids. Which my mom and I call Giffordism after Kathy Lee, and. Okay, I can see where it has a place on a morning talk show where it's a mellow environment with banter back and forth, but a show on CNN? Seriously. Time and place.

I also finished the second season of SPN before I left. ;_;
dramaturgy: ([DW/T] Harveywallbanger.)
I'm not feeling well today. And I'm hungryish but a) I can't get up from the couch to find anything and b) if I eat a big something I'll ruin dinner. If there is dinner. It's usually a 50-50 shot during the week in this house.

I'm almost finshed with the first season of Supernatural, and I love it. I love all of the Winchester boys together, all three of them. I kind of know what happens because I've been very casual about avoiding spoilers. I figured I'd see the show eventually, but I didn't know when. So yes, I love the three Winchesters, and how even though they haven't had too much screen time together, the relationship between the three of them is crystal clear -- I mean, details and all are somewhat more fuzzy. Cutting because I'm starting to ramble. )

Currently I'm breaking from watching Supernatural to watch Dr. Phil, and they are talking about ~*teen trends. Currently it's text messaging. This one girl sent 14,000ish text messages in a month and the parents are at a loss. HERE'S A CLUE, SHE'S THIRTEEN AND YOU'RE HER PARENTS. TAKE THE CELL PHONE AWAY. God, even I can tell you that. Honestly, I think if parents took a little responsibility for the things their kids had access to, half of the problems we have would solve themselves. Like take these questions from the mom of a teenaged boy who texted 120,000 times in three months.

"Is texting the teenage form of alcoholism?"
No. Alcoholism is the teenage form of alcoholism.

"Is this an obsessive-compulsive behavior that I should worry about?"
Seriously?

And now here's this one twelve-year-old girl who's sending nearly naked photos of herself and sending them to her boyfriend and inappropriate text messages, etc. They're worried! Of course they are.

TAKE. THE. CELL. PHONE. AWAY. Does she keep finding the phone and take it back? DESTROY IT. TERMINATE YOUR CONTRACT WITH THE COMPANY. WHATEVER IT TAKES.

Maybe this is just me speaking, but if that were me in my teenaged years -- hell, if that were me NOW -- my phone would be gone before I could even start explaining myself, and I would probably also lose other privileges. I mean, really.
dramaturgy: ([Misc] Godot)
Ugh. So this is what hungover feels like.

Bee, that Jack really fucked with my head.

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