mnvnjnsn's Diary

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drinking and whoring

Oh, I have had so many ideas of what to say since yesterday. But work has been so busy, I've forgotten all of them. Of course.

I finally have a banner up. It's nothing special (no surprise there), but we'll see what happens. It's just text, and it's probably not all that clever, but it will pacify my attention-whoring for the moment. I had a hard time coming up with anything that worked in conjunction with my diary name, which doesn't really apply to my diary anyway, so we'll see what kind of readers I get with it. And I guess I'll try to talk more medicine in hopes the name will make any sense.

Speaking of attention-whoring, I applied to have my site reviewed by Diary Reviews, and I think anyone who does that automatically gets invited to be a reviewer. What a mistake! Surely they must realize I would rip any diary apart for no good reason, right? I have no patience at all for almost everything. I can't imagine giving me the power to rate the jr. high school poetry of some poor schmuck with a computer.

Yahoo's daily picks has a link today from the CBC about a show they had about pain called A Look at Pain. I haven't seen the show, since dammit, I'm not Canadian, but the site is interesting. It's mostly an interview with a woman with Fibromyalgia (which I was at one time thought to have, though I don't), and it's nice to hear someone else talking about dealing with doctors who think you're a hypochondriac, or having a hard time committing to future events because you're not sure if you'll be feeling well enough to deal with people. There's something about her voice that bugs me, but maybe that's the pain talking.

So, I have a confession to make. I went to a party this weekend while I was in California and hung out with my ex-boyfriend from college and his very nice girlfriend. We broke up 10 years ago, and we still keep in touch. We keep each other posted on the status of the cats we each got in the break up. He's even in a band with my rock star sister. Our moms exchange christmas cards. He and his gf have been dating for as long as Trevor Dunnigan and I have (that's over 7 years for anyone who's counting), and I like her very much. She is kind, funny, good with animals and probably much better for him than I ever was. We seem to get along great.

That is, until I drank too much and threw up in her car.

How sad is that?!? I'm not in high school. I'm supposed to know how to hold my liquor. I know "Beer before liquor, never sicker." What the fuck was I thinking? But there it is. I threw up in my ex-boyfriend's girlfriend's car. At 10pm on a Sunday. I am such a fucking loser.

11:13 a.m. - 2003-04-03


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