i’m seriously allergic to bees. i know i’ve mentioned that. i just opened the balcony door a bit for Zap (who was sick a little while ago. hairball) to go out (still just a little too cold for me to open it all the way or maybe i just feel so shitty i can’t tell if it is warm, but everyone i see walking past has long trousers on and either light jackets or elbow length sleeves so maybe it isn’t just me) and a bee flew in here. normally that’d be a signal for me to do something acrobatic that’d leave me sore for days (its interesting to note, i CAN still move. i’ve worked VERY hard to keep my flexibility. i can go from standing upright to PALMS flat on the floor without bending my knees and THEN bend my elbows at a 40 degree angle. can YOU? most people can’t. don’t feel bad about not being able to do things like that. my joints all hyper-extend. i’m not quite on a contortionist level, but from what i’ve read heard and seen, if i’d GONE down that avenue of training instead of going horse crazy as a kid, i COULD have been trained to be one. interesting thought huh? i joke i was a pretzel in a past life. i’m also even as broken as i am superfast on reaction time and THAT gets me into trouble a LOT. i tossed a lit cig in the air a few weeks ago because i had what i call an RSD flail and all that training and those superfast reflexes made me clamp my wrist to my shoulder to catch it. i caught it alright and now have 2 matching scars from where the damn thing burned me LOL) like vaulting over the bookcase to get to the other side of the room (going to HAVE to get someone with an iphone or some such to come up here and get photos. my place is pretty cool if i do say so myself and i do. the entire flat is sanctified. sacred space. i have alters in every room sometimes in the case of art room and living room there’s 2, but it’s little ‘roomlets’ with the rooms subdivided by bookcases and that sort of thing and the whole place is collaged) but THIS time, i looked at it incredulously and said out loud ‘you call yourself a BEE? puhLEEZ queen, i’ve seen scarier. now do us both a favour and get the fuck out. no flowers in here. go on. scram. i have no desire to kill you. go on. get out.’ it flew around looking confused above my desk and i pushed the door open a few more inches. ‘there you go, buddy. go on. get out!’ and it flew out. LOLOL just a few days ago pre-ZomBEE i’d have been freaked out. now? not even phased.
oh hey! here ya go! these are OLD pictures (as you can see from the bottom right pic with my friend Emily pretending to be drunk. that’s her little boy holding up the drawing bottom left. i miss them, but it was 1 of those cases where they moved out and got a house and she talked about how cool it was going to be and that they’d come over and get me often so we could all hang out. she’s 1/2 lebanese and they’re a very social group of folks and nice as all get out. after the move we spoke on the phone about 1/2 a dozen times the 1st couple weeks, and they did pop by 2ce to see me, but i never did get to see the new place with various scheduling conflicts and the phone calls petered out. haven’t seen them in months. if you read this, Em? give the boys a kiss from me and keep a big hug for yourself. i miss you guys. i’m still here too.) but the middle pic in the collage page shows you JUST how old these are since the mural was a mere sketch at the time. this was also when i was dealing with the pill pusher pain specialist where the ungodsly cocktail of meds he had me on made me sick as a fucking dog and i gained 80 pounds in under 2 months. this pic (upper left) when i was at my WORST, but hey, the hair looks great, doesn’t it? manic panic deadly nightshade.
i don’t think i’m going to feel up to working today after shoving furniture around yesterday, so probably no old pain journal entries today. we’ll see. that may change.