Broken... Something New This Time

My mom has some flowers outside in our backyard. Personally, I think they're kind of weird, but she really likes them. The technical name is Canna Lily but they're not really lilies. Sort of like how Rhode Island is neither a road nor an island. *Discuss* (If you don't know what I'm talking about go rent the Best of Mike Myers on SNL.)
Anyways...
She has 5 or 6 of them blooming at the moment so she asked me to go take some pictures of them. I like to take pictures of flowers, see. I have a lot of them. I take far more pictures of flowers and bushes and things than I do of people. This is because a flower will not stick it's tongue out at you the moment you press the camera button. Neither will it attempt to moon you.
Anyways again...
So I went out and took several pictures of the cannas with her camera and with mine. Her camera is extraordinarily expensive and does lots of amazing things. Mine I bought myself and just does a few neat things. But I love it. Because I worked and saved for it and it was the absolute best I could afford at the time.
It's a Kodak EasyShare Z885 and when I bought it for my birthday (and I had a coupon!) it cost me a little more than 200 dollars. It takes 8.1 megapixel pictures and can do, as I said, some neat things. It perfect and I've taken some incredible pictures with it. Visit my webshots account if you don't believe me.
My mom's camera has a neck strap. Mine doesn't. So I put her camera around my neck and my camera in her camera bag that I was carrying over my shoulder. Then I got a trifle spooked by a demon in the shape of a wasp.
So I was on my way inside, and was kicking off my shoes and my camera fell out of the camera bag and straight onto the concrete patio, where it bounced twice and came to rest face down. (The shoes were not mine, really. They were my dad's. The same ones that caused me to trip the other day. I've decided they must be unlucky.)
I just about had a heart attack.
As you have probably guessed, my beautiful little camera is no longer functional.
When you turn it on the viewer shows a pink screen with lines across it. If you take a picture, it comes out pink with lines across it. I've never seen anything like it. The pink looks like Pepto-Bismol. It's absolutely revolting.
I'm devastated.
You can't have a job during nursing school, you know. And mine (hopefully) will begin in January. And I have been so sick that I haven't been able to work. So here I sit, at TWENTY EIGHT, completely dependent on the charity of my parents, completely penniless, and now completely devoid of my beautiful, perfect, splendidly gorgeous and fantastic camera!!
I'd cry but I'm afraid that might send Barney into a fit of hysteria. He's very sensitive.
Well I hope the start of the weekend is better for the rest of you. Here's a picture of one of the damned flowers to get you going:


My Webshots: http://community.webshots.com/user/sunnyag04?vhost=community"

Barney

I just drenched the right arm of my shirt. How?
Well it's pouring down rain. Thank you, Tropical Storm Hermine. And my dog, Barney, needed to go out and potty.
But the rain drips really heavily in front of the door and he doesn't like that. He refuses to walk through them. So he required that I hold the door open with my hip and hold the umbrella just outside it so the heavy drips wouldn't get on him.
He's fine with the rain, see, just not the big drops.
And he's also scared of the umbrella.
So holding the door open with my hip, my arm sticking outside with the umbrella, I had to coax him out the door while firmly encouraging him not to drink the rainwater that was puddling just outside.
Then he likes to "mosey" back inside.
So I'm wet, he's wet, the umbrellas stuck to the screen door and I'm wearing my Dad's old tennis shoes like when I was a toddler and proceed to trip over the nonexistent laces.
I felt like I was in a Marx Brothers movie.
And then my puppy wags his tail at me and would very much like a cookie.
*sigh*
Who can resist that?

By myself

Last night I dreamed that my sister and I had mistakenly driven to Trenton, New Jersey. We were both quite scared and lost so I suggested that we pull over into a Wendy's so I could get my GPS out and get us back home. My sister (Jennifer) got out to go get herself a drink and then came running back to the car and pounded on the window telling me to let her in. So I reached over to unlock the doors...
... and proceeded to spill an entire glass of water all over my nightstand. I wish my dreams were not quite so vivid.

Anyway. The biopsy came back normal. So I do not have duodenal cancer. Yippie, right?
Well in a way I guess you could say I'm relieved and rather glad.
But in another I was actually rather discouraged and even... disappointed.
You're probably thinking, "You crazy idiot. No one WANTS cancer. What kind of a psycho are you??"
Well I don't WANT cancer. I WANT for whatever this sickness is to have a NAME. Because when it is named it can be cured. Unless you know what something is you can't go about treating it.
At the moment I am adrift on a boat of sickness in a sea of exhaustion and pain without a sail. I don't have any oars and my crewmen all jumped overboard because, let's face it, intestinal distress is nobody's friend.
Sometimes I get the feeling that people think I should just jump into the water and swim for it. Like I'm in the boat because I want to be. And I could leave if I really tried hard enough. I don't think they see these invisible 80 pound weights the Gremlins tied to my ankles.
No land in sight.
No breeze for the non-existent sail.
Just me in a boat. And I'm sure the toilet is going to stop working any day now.

I know what you're thinking. I'm feeling sorry for myself, right? And that's pathetic and I shouldn't do it.
Well I'm not feeling sorry for myself. Even sick and tired I'm far better off than most people.
But I sure do wish I had some answers.
And I wish I didn't feel so...
Alone.

Because I love you

I was informed last night that my cherished blog is all but dead.
Shocked and sickened as I was, I had to admit it was quite true. I haven't posted anything in 3 weeks for heaven's sake!
Being sick certainly does take a lot out of you. I'm not sad, as some people might surmise, I'm just not well.
At the moment I'm waiting for some biopsy results. Waiting is an altogether unpleasant affair. I've decided that I dislike it intensely. I've always considered myself to be a rather patient person but I've about had it. Soon I shall storm the doors of the nearest medical facility and demand immediate ANSWERS! (Right....)
So anyway... Not much energy today so I thought I'd just post you a poem that I wrote a few months back. It will show you that my state of mind is as good as ever, though my physical body might be slowly trying to do away with me.
Much, much love to you all, my faithful friends, followers and beloved minions.

I’ve giggled and giggled
And giggled some more
I’ve rolled across carpets
And over bare floor
I’ve laughed till my face hurts
And my abs were sore
And even howled wildly
When called a great whore.
I love to grin wildly
It’s mirth I adore.

And so now to laughter
This ode I must write
To all things quite silly
And ne’er things contrite
They make me feel happy
And high as a kite (or weed, but I digress)
So I raise now my glass,
As this poem I recite,
“Merry Christmas to all
“And to all a good night!”
(wait, I think that was the weed talking…)

Bewildered

Good morning loyal readers!
Did you think I died?
Well close, but no cigar. In my rather feeble state of health I have all but forsaken this cherished blog of mine.
When I had mono I could lie in bed and type. But in this house I have to sit bolt upright in a supremely uncomfortable chair in the computer room. Once I'm in here I don't really feel like discoursing.
But I'm truly sorry to have left you all hanging. And for once, I'm not being sarcastic.
My doctors don't know what's wrong with me but they know it's NOT my gallbladder, adrenal glands, liver, etc. I'm having some more embarrassing tests done in about two weeks to see what else it might or might not be.
I've really been doing you all a favor by keeping you out of the loop, see. The last month would have read like this:
Pain, sleep, pain, sleep, oh look at my dog isn't he cute, pain, sleep, sleep (ah, fooled you didn't I?) bath, pain, sleep.
Are you tired of all of this sick talk of mine? Tired of always reading about how I'm falling apart in some way?
I appreciate your sympathy.
Believe me, I'm quite tired of it myself.
I look forward to the day when I'm back to my normal, acerbic self and can continue this blog as I used to.
Won't that be fun?
Until then... You'll have to find an Uncle John's Bathroom Reader or something.

Happy Friday!!

Babbling 14

Happy Friday!!