Retold

I’m going to tell you a little story about Matt and I.  There’s a point, so hang in there.

I had known Matt by way of the net for 8 months before I met him in person.  There are things people don’t share online, little things that seem irrelevant until you know them face to face.  In May 1999, I flew to TX to meet him.  I adored him instantly, but I’d known him for two days when I woke up late in the morning to find him beet red and sweating and clutching his head.  Right then and there, I thought he might be a junkie or something.  He’d spend the last two days with me, so he couldn’t have been getting a fix, maybe he was having withdrawals, I thought.  I sort of freaked out, I admit it.  I was 20 years old, I had no idea what to think.

Immediately I began trying to figure out what the heck was wrong with him.  He had eaten the night before, he wasn’t hung over as we hadn’t been drinking, I could not figure it out.  Maybe he was having a migraine?  Maybe he needed his crack?  I had no idea.  I knew he was a smoker, but otherwise, I was clueless.  I took a quick shower, got him talking, and made him a pot of coffee in the little coffee pot in my room.  He drank the whole pot and started to turn his normal olivey hue again.  His eyes opened, he stopped sweating, and was back to his normal ol’ self.

Turns out, he is a junkie.  He was suffering for extreme coffee withdrawals.  He hadn’t had a single cup of coffee in days and he needed it.  To this day, he’s the biggest coffee addict I know, and I know a lot of coffee addicts.  He drinks 5 pots a day, most of which I make, and while he’s at work he drinks coffee and water alternately.  Even still, if he goes too long without coffee, he starts to suffer migraines.  A few years ago he went to a neurologist who did a CT Scan and gave him migraine drugs, he also told him that he had to drink enough coffee to not suffer the withdrawal symptoms.  He’s a total coffee addict.

He knows his coffee and actually knows if someone tries to give him decaf.  He can taste it, he can feel it, he doesn’t like it at all.  Even half-calf makes him upset.  He just wants coffee, good ol’ black coffee.  Recently a doctor told him he needed to drink less of it and he flat out refused.  If he was told that coffee was going to kill him next week, he’d go on drinking it.   He loves his coffee.

Fast forward 10 years.  I woke up yesterday feeling horrible.  I mean horrible!!  I’ve been feeling really down lately, which you know if you read my pity party post.  This wasn’t that.  I was feeling physically horrible, rather than my usual mentally horrible.  I spent the day sleeping, trying to get rid of the terrible pain in my head, which didn’t work.  Around 7pm I dragged myself out of bed and tried to make a grocery list, I really needed to go to the grocery store.  I got the list half done and talked to my mom before the pain in my head got so bad that I couldn’t take it and laid down.  Allergy meds didn’t work, Advil didn’t work, nothing was making me feel better.  I clutched my head and willed it to stop hurting for three hours before Matt got off the computer, put on his shoes, and went to the convenience store.  I didn’t think anything of it, my head hurt too much.  When he came back, he had two bottles of Diet Coke.  He instructed me to drink it, but I was feeling nauseous from the radiating pain in my head.  I did what he said, I drank it and you know what?  It took the edge off my headache long enough for the Advil to work.  I drank the whole thing, plus another, and felt fine.  We had run out of Diet Coke two days before.

Turns out I’m a junkie too.  I used to be able to drink soda and not get like this.  I used to smoke and not get addicted, which I still do at a rate of half a pack a year.  I used to be able to drink without getting a hangover.   Apparently, I’m not as young as I used to be.  I need caffeine or my brain shuts down.  Diet Coke is my drug of choice.  Matt says we now have to keep Diet Coke around here to help me avoid the migraine monster!

For years I’ve been giving him a hard time about being so addicted to coffee (and cigarettes, but that’s a post for another time).  Last night, it was his turn to give me a hard time.  He pointed, he cackled, he didn’t feel sorry for me.  I feel sorry enough for myself for the both of us.  Well, my dinner’s ready and it’s time for another infusion of Diet Cracka-Cola.  I’m off to get my fix.

…(¨`·.·´¨)
…..`·.¸.·Kristyn

I took this picture of myself after I dyed my hair a few nights ago (as always, click the picture to make it bigger).  I thought I’d share it with you.  So how do I look as a redhead?  My sister has naturally coppery red hair, which is just beautiful; I’ve always been a little envious.  The funny, and sometimes sad, thing about her is that even though her hair is an awesome shade of red, she often dyes it red.  Silly girl.  I like my brown hair, but on occasion, I need a change.  So, here it is, my change.  Do you like it?  In the morning sun it’s very red.  Inside, at night, it’s much more reasonable.

I found three boxes of dye under the cabinet, all of them are expired but after looking it up online, I decided it was worth the risk.  It was this color or black, since I had two boxes of this color and one black.  The problem with black is, if you don’t get it 100% even, it looks like crap.  Since my hair doesn’t dye well, meaning it doesn’t dye evenly, since it has trouble holding onto dye, I knew black wouldn’t work.  Besides, while I have blue eyes, and a fair complexion,  I don’t know that I’d be happy with black.  I want to have it done professionally if I’m ever going to do it at all.  It’s just so… permanent.  This color will fade in a few months and I’ll be back to my regular hair color.  Black just doesn’t work that way, if you want to get rid of it you have to strip it out or let it grow out and cut it off.  So, it was auburn for me!!

Anyway, it’s 10 minutes until 3am, time to go to bed — It’s been a really rough day, I’m ready for it to be over.  Good night.

…(¨`·.·´¨)
…..`·.¸.·Kristyn

God, I’m in a bad mood.

That sentence get’s to be it’s own paragraph.  It needs to be bold, with italics and underline, but I’ll spare you.  I’m having one of those weeks where I feel like everyone I know is just completely ignoring me.  The bitch of it is, for the most part, it’s not my imagination.  Whatever, don’t want to talk to me, whatever.  Thank goodness for Twitter where there’s always someone to talk to, otherwise, I’d be one lonely bitch.  Pity party, yup, but it’s my blog so if you don’t like it, go somewhere else and not talk to me.  And yes, I know that’s not the way to win friends and influence people and I could give a fuck less. And yes, I know I broke my own (and many English) rules by starting sentences with a conjunction, fucking sue me, you’re lucky I’m using any sort of grammar at all, I could be typing this all lower case with no comma’s and periods.

I told you I was in a bad mood today.

Maybe it’s not just the fact that my friends have decided to give me the cold shoulder.  Maybe it’s also that hub’s financial aid is trying to be revoked, which will make it completely impossible for him to go to school, just because those fuckers have some sort of rule about not going over 192 attempted hours.  So he’s taken a lot of classes, so the fuck what?  I mean, who made Uncle fucking Sam his daddy?  So, we’ve I’ve had to write a bunch of letters and give them a bunch of stuff like his degree plan, expected graduation date, etc.  He’s never had a financial aid appeal before, so hopefully they’ll grant this one, we could really use the money.  Of course, the fucking committee who sees to these things are sitting around on their lazy asses and not meeting until June 12th, when school’s been in for four fucking days.  The problem with this is that in the summer, by day four of the semester, it’s not possible to drop a class and not owe them any money.  If they take away his financial aid, we’re going to have to find a way to pay for his summer one class.  Apparently meeting earlier would ruin their fucking summer break.  They’re the fuckers who waited until 3 fucking weeks after school’s out to notify students that they’re on financial aid suspension in the first fucking place.

Or, maybe it’s that my house is a disaster and I have no drive to clean it the fuck up (look at that, I started a whole damn paragraph with a conjunction this time).  I’m no domestic goddess.  I hate to clean, hate it with the fire of a million burning suns.  But, if I don’t do it, no one will.  The only upside is that with Matt working, he’s not here as much to make messes.  That doesn’t stop there form being a stack of plates on the floor next to his damn desk.  Newp, it doesn’t.  To make matters worse, I’ve been trying to do laundry, but only making half-hearted attempts which means clean clothes are all over the sofa and floor in front of the sofa getting wrinkled and dirty.  I’m going to have to wash them all again because I was too damn lazy to hang them up.  Lucky fucking me.

The only goddamn thing I have to feel good about right now is that hubs got a promotion.  He’s been working his job for a month and a half and they gave him a promotion.  He apparently does a very good job, which makes me really proud of him.  We need to get him some more work clothes and new shoes.  Oh, also my writing project is going well and if you give a shit about that you can read about it on my writing blog.  I made a video wherein I ramble and ramble for something close to 8 minutes.

Okay, ranting and self-pity aren’t helping me at all.  I’m still in a shitty mood.  Time to go.

…(¨`·.·´¨)
…..`·.¸.·Kristyn

I got this link by way of one of my twitter pals.  Read it, but not if you’re under 18 or are a total sexual prude.  Otherwise, click away!

http://www.womanist-musings.com/2009/05/oral-sex-and-reciprocity.html

Like I said, it’s about sex… oral sex to be more specific, so if that offends you, this is your warning.

…(¨`·.·´¨)
…..`·.¸.·Kristyn