The weekend of champions!

What’ll it be: the requisite Valentine’s Day post, a review of the Friday the 13th remake, a review of the pilot episode of Dollhouse, or more drama than is healthy for anyone?

Michael and I stopped bickering long enough to go see the Friday the 13th remake on, well, Friday the 13th. Instead of being mean to each other, we strolled around the mall arm in arm (he even bought me clothes)! Instead of picking at each other over every stupid little thing, we watched people get slaughtered and listened to fifteen-year-old gangstas yell out stupid things at regular intervals. I didn’t want to see it at first (Mike can tell you all about our debate on remakes and sequels), but eventually my curiosity won. Besides, it was Friday the 13th! (And I figured I should be a good girlfriend and go see the damn movie with my boyfriend.)

Of course, nothing is ever perfect. We sat in the truck letting it warm up when the movie was over. The parking lot was nearly empty and it was kind of creepy. Mike chainsmoked his way through our post-movie banter. All of a sudden, I got a sharp, stabbing pain in my left shoulder — much like what happened after my cousin’s birthday party two months ago. This time, the pain was on the backside of my shoulder and the backside of my upper arm. Just like last time, it brought me to tears and hysterics. I sat there screaming like a two-year-old while Mike tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.

Just like last time, it was over relatively quickly. The weirdest part, though, was that it happened exactly two months after the first time.

Valentine’s Day was pretty low-key, luckily. Mike came over for cake for Lauren’s birthday, and fried dough for dinner. We went to Walmart for a few things and then went to his house. On top of the three shirts he bought me (see above), there’s also a mystery present he got on eBay that is en route to his house as I type this. I gave him his card, which apparently was not gay (I wrote him a long, sappy letter inside; everything I usually do like that is “gay,” according to him). We watched random TV and cuddled and stuff, and then he dropped me off. Naturally I forgot my Walmart bags in his truck, but I got them the next morning after I took him out to breakfast at our favorite diner.

Breakfast was nice but he had to go to work after, so we didn’t get to linger or hang out afterward (which was probably a good thing; I didn’t want to push our luck and have us start bickering again). I went to a birthday party for Kaylene, my goddaughter, where there was all kinds of drama that I don’t have any ambition to write about.

Last night I watched the pilot episode of Dollhouse, since I couldn’t watch it Friday night when it aired. It was an awesome episode, and I hope it’s just the beginning of how awesome this series is going to be. It seems that Joss Whedon’s writing has gotten even better, which I didn’t think possible. It was really cool to see him do something so different, and of course it’s even better to see him working with Eliza Dushku and Amy Ackers again. I can’t wait until next Friday.

All in all, it was a pretty good weekend. It could have been worse, right?

I don't want anymore, thanks

I feel like I’m at the mercy of some unseen force right now. I swear someone is using a voodoo doll on me.

Saturday night as I got home from my little cousin’s birthday party, I got some super sharp and stabbing pains in my left shoulder. They were in the same spot and only lasted a second or two, but were enough to make me scream, cry, and made my knees buckle. I went to see my new GP on Friday and the nurse practitioner there said she would set me up an appointment with a neurologist. I assumed they’d call me with an appointment later on Friday, but they didn’t. Hopefully they’ll call me Monday, because I can’t take much more of this. I want answers and treatment and relief, and I want it NOW. I am going out of my mind. I’m afraid to do anything or go out in public; can you imagine collapsing on the street or screaming in the middle of the mall? I mean, this is just getting ridiculous. Something is wrong and someone needs to help me before it gets any worse.

I’m also waiting on my college to get back to me. The math/science director still hasn’t responded to my second email, and I won’t get anything until at least Monday. I think my next step should be the Dean; I mean, it was not my mistake and I refuse to pay for the mistake of someone who gets paid to advise students. He obviously gave me the wrong advice, so why do I have to put everything on hold?

Worst of all, Mike is still working third shift. We were supposed to hang out Thursday night (because he was actually off!), but he ended up sleeping through the alarm he’d set and didn’t wake up until one in the morning. He felt bad and I felt bad, but now he won’t be off again until next Thursday. I miss him like crazy and all I want to do right now is drive down there and bang on the doors until they let me in. Then I’d kidnap him and steal him away so that I can be selfish and snuggle in his arms until we wake up. I know he misses me too but somewhere along the line I became sentimental and now I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t get to see him soon. What happened to the hardass version of me, the one who spat at the very mention of love? Oh. Right. She was one bitter bitch.

On top of everything else, “Jude” invited me to hang out tonight — uh, Saturday night, technically. She was going to have “Zeppelin” come get me, and since I was feeling sorry for myself (because of the Chronic Arm Pains 4.0) I said maybe I shouldn’t. She said she really wanted me to come, and then when said she’d call me back in a few minutes. I assumed she was going to ask “Zeppelin” if she minded picking me up, and that since she wanted me to come over and hang out so bad she’d call me back and make sure I hadn’t changed my mind, but she never called me back. I know I can’t make her give a fuck but really. She knew I wasn’t feeling good — I burst into tears the second she said “hello” when I called her — and yet she still couldn’t be bothered to call me back. This is the shit that makes me want to tell her to have a nice life. When I need her, she never comes through. And yet, when she needs me I am always there.

I love her kids to death and even though I know she’ll pull the You Can’t See the Kids card if I try to stop being friends with her again, I don’t know what else to do. Every time we go through this, she promises to try harder and blahblahblah, but it never happens. We always end up at the same place. She claims that she cares but when it comes down to showing me she cares, she just can’t do it. There’s always something more important.

Anyway, it’s almost 3 am and my arms are killing me. I knew I’d pay for this but I needed to get shit off my chest.