All About G

I didn’t do much at all the five days I had off. I mainly stayed at my house and rested, which was what I wanted to do. I went to Oneonta on Friday to get a plastic rod stuck into my arm. It’s called Implanon; the new implant birth control. It’s supposed to last three years, which is good, because I’m ridiculously inconsistent with taking my pill. The actual procedure was painless as well, if not a little humorous. They injected a numbing agent into my arm, which started working immediately. Then, they shoved a FAT ASS needle into my arm. the size of it… it’s about the size of a…. yea, whatever. I’ll just take a pic and post it somewhere for you to see. I got to watch it all take place with detached fascination. Other than my skin being “extra tough,” it was quick and easy and I was out of there in about half an hour.

I got to put my new credit card to use, going food shopping with Mom. I don’t plan on using it often, by the way. I’m not happy with actually having the thing in the first place, but if I’m going to get student loans, I’m gonna need a good credit score, and in order for me to have that, I’m gonna need a credit card. So, once the foods stuffs gets paid off, I only plan on using it a little here and there, like buying a pair of jeans, or maybe a notebook. Little things that are easy to pay off.

Let’s see, anything else… Trip back was really uneventful and SILENT, except for the music we were playing. It was kind of boring, but I guess when your dad doesn’t really have a life beyond his office, you don’t really have much to talk about.

I get to go home in a couple of weeks to help the DCDC with the Obama rally we’re sponsoring in Delhi… you should TOTALLY GO. And I’ll be kept there for a few extra days, because my mom and I figured it’d be much cheaper to keep me till election day and then drove me back instead of driving me back and then coming to get me two days later.

In other news… I think I did something to my back. It hurts in a specific spot when I extend my lower back, and its tender to touch. I think it’s about time i go see Dr. Bonnie. She’ll probably be able to help. Good thing I’m going back in like, what, two weeks?

Comments (1) Oct 20 2008

So last night (and ridiculously early this morning) I did “some” drinking with a friend of mine.

It didn’t end up well. I puked three times, and have felt nauseous since.

In actuality, on the rare occasions that I drink, I drink in moderation, meaning I pace myself. I try not to down as many as quickly as I can. It gets ugly real fast that way. I had that happen to me once a couple of years back. I puked on and off for hours and passed out and came back to. I woke up still drunk. It was very miserable, and I promised I’d never do that again.

Yea, so much for that.

Anyway, the group of folks I was hanging out with are self-proclaimed “rugged” folks. Rugged, in their lingo, defines, apparently, being able to down a hell of a lot of alcohol, especially the strong stuff. I’ve known this since I first met them, so maybe for me it would have been better if I had declined the offer to drink with them. Or should have been more stubborn about the way I drink, I don’t know.

As the story goes, I did start out pacing myself, like usual. But everyone kept telling me “oh come on, chug it! be rugged!’ and things of that nature. They didn’t seem to listen to me when I told them, or tried to, that I like to pace myself. See, I don’t drink to get drunk and shitfaced. That’s no fun at all. I like to drink to get just a small buzz. Just enough to be cheerful. Is that a bad thing? In some people’s eyes, I guess so.

After a while of their nagging me, I finally gave it and sped up my intake of alcohol. Eventually, I was to the point where I was half-passed out. And I didn’t black out, luckily, but I can only barely remember what happen. I definitely remember stumbling to the bathroom, twice, to heave up the contents of my stomach, before finally passing out at around 3am, if I recall.

I woke up later this morning, feeing nauseous, and I actually puked again. I was dropped off of my dorm, and I went back to bed, sleeping for the rest of the afternoon. After I woke up this evening, I finally had the courage to try eating (ginger ale and crackers – the ultimate in stomach bugs). I still feel nauseous, actually, but it’s not to the point where I feel like I’m actually gonna puke.

Now, on to the point of my post. Usually, I’m very good at resisting peer pressure to do stupid things. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of not doing so when being stubborn was probably most needed. I think, if I ever decide to party here at Ithaca again, that I’m not gonna listen to people implying that I’m wimpy just because I don’t get myself shitfaced. I think it’d probably be even better if I just saved any kind of drinking for at home, where I can drink at my own pace without have everyone get on my case about it, and where I’m around my family and best friends, whom I trust the most.

In all honesty, I really have yet to see what exactly is so great about drinking till you puke in the toilet (or all over yourself, or all over the floor, etc). I’ve only done it twice, counting this episode in my life, and there wasn’t anything “fun” about leaning on the toilet, puking while half-conscious and unable to actually say a coherent sentence. I actually hate it. So to those of you who actually like to do that kind of thing; you go ahead and keep doing that, but let me stick to my drinking till I’m cheerful policy.

Comments (1) Oct 13 2008

I just feel nauseous because idiots are idiots and won’t let me do things the way I want to do them.

I don’t particularly feel like relaying the whole story right now because it’s late, but I’ll make a new post tomorrow telling you what happened.

Comments (0) Oct 12 2008

And I want EVERYONE’S opinion on this. You can be reading this blog and hate my guts for all I care, but I want EVERYONE’S opinion, no questions asked, because this is one of those things where once I’ve made up my mind, I can’t go back to change it.

So, backstory: I definitely want my name (not my full name, Regina, but my more commonly used nickname, Gina) as a tattoo. I’m getting it in Japanese katakana writing. So, here’s my question;

Vertical? Or…

Horizontal?

I want anyone who reads this to leave a comment, giving me their opinion on which way I should get it. So far, the score is Vertical – 2; Horizontal – 0. Maybe I’ll go with majority rules in the end or maybe I won’t, but I wanted to see what you all think. I’m leaning towards vertical, because it is the traditional writing style in Japan, after all.

Oh, before I forget; this tattoo (my name in katakana) will be on my lower back, the right side. So keep that in mind when making your choice.

If you all want, I can post up the image of the other tattoo I want to get. It’s the kanji for strength (methinks it’s known as ‘ryoku’ in Japan, but I’m not sure, because there are several different ways to write strength, not mention several different meanings, in Japan). [EDIT] the length of it will be approximately the length of my point finger, and it’s width will be approximately the length of my thumb’s proximal phalanx.

Thanks!

Comments (4) Sep 07 2008

This is what I grew up around:

I couldn’t find the ones I really wanted to find, like Gloria Estefan’s and En Vouge’s appearances, but this one is still a classic.

Comments (2) Aug 18 2008