I have decided what I want for Christmas: a "delete" button on my uterus.
I've been so torpid the past couple days, it feels as though my entire body is formed of warm lead. I sleep ten to twelve hours a night, regularly. And the oddest thing of all is that I've actually LOST weight. 1.6 pounds, to be precise. I was amazed. I don't feel like eating lately, mainly because I have this teetering feeling that I'll throw up anything I manage to put in my mouth.
I'm back online, for the next month, anyway. My father signed us up with MSN....bad move. I hate this service, and, of course, he's the only one who has an account with them. We even had to get rid of Netscape, and use their lame-ass Microsoft Internet Explorer. I'm already pissed.
Derek's been incredibly supportive about this whole pregnancy thing. Yesterday, he gave up sleep so I could lie on his couch when I visited, and made me tea, too! He's willing to go along with any decision I make, and has offered to pay for the abortion, if it comes to that. It may not. I found a site on herbal abortions, and I'm trying one out....it involves vitamin C and parsley. If you've never had parsley tea, I don't reccommend it. And you have to take 500 mg of Vitamin C every hour, even at night. This required setting an alarm to wake me up every hour. God. I'm not sure if it's working, and if it does, I'll give you the URL to the site. Only if it works, though. If it doesn't, though, it guarantees that I have to get rid of the pregnancy, because this herbal stuff makes for some pretty bad birth defects if it doesn't take.
Luckily, I'm only 3-5 weeks pregnant, at most, which gives me a bit of time to play with before I have to bite the bullet and go to the clinic. I don't want to sound cheap, but abortions are expensive, and they're also painful and draining as hell, so forgive me if I want to bypass that if possible. Not that this herbal thing is painless. My last dose of vitamin C before I woke up this morning was at 4:30. At about 5:00, I woke up with this throbbing burn in my stomach, because I hadn't eaten anything since dinner. Word to the wise: don't take vitamins on an empty stomach. It can do awful things to your stomach lining, and can make you vomit.
I've gotten a lot of supportive e-mail (and guestbook signatures), especially from people I know (either on-line or in real life). If I didn't thank you via a little e-mail message, I'd like to do so now. It meant a lot to me to know that not everyone was just horribly disgusted by the fact that I'm not having this baby. If I didn't e-mail back, it's probably because I'm just too tired lately to do much online, especially think of original responses to heartfelt e-mails. Lately 12 hours of sleep doesn't even feel like it's enough.
I'm just so distracted lately.
Surprisingly, I got an e-mail from C--, asking me how long I planned to be pregnant (his semi-tactful way of asking if I planned to keep it), and asking me if I felt like I didn't know him anymore. I honestly didn't know how to answer that.
Well, you know, I'd promised a continuation of that story about Roachboy...it did have a meaningful ending, after all. As a recap, he found out I was dating Dirk, and proceeded to alienate the only girl who'd possibly sleep with him. My story picks up on the Zenta New Year, Halloween, when I went down to check on Roachboy, who was living in my father's work room (rent-free).
I walked in, and Roachboy immediately perked up to see me. He had a desperate gleam in his eye, but that wasn't too unusual, lately. After all, he'd been cozying up to this girl at work, to see if she'd sleep with him on the Zenta New Year, and he'd been rejected, finally. At least the girl had some sense.
"Agent Skatter, I just came up with an idea that could save this situation. You could date both Dirk and I, simultaneously, so I can sleep with you tonight."
To say the least, I was taken aback. I was also disgusted and slightly nervous. I hadn't known Roachboy was this far gone into the realm of delusions. "Roachboy, even if I agreed, which I'm NOT, do you honestly think Dirk would go for this?"
Roachboy handed me the phone. "Call him, go ahead. I think he'll see the merit in this plan."
"But, I don't want--"
"Just call him, Agent Skatter."
Reluctantly, I dialed the number, and told Dirk about Roachboy's psychotic new plan. However, Dirk somehow got the impression that I wanted to do this, so he wanted to "talk about it". I waited until Roachboy left the room to have a ciggie, then informed Dirk of what was really up. I also spelled out to him, in case there was a doubt, what answer I expected of him. Having procured my resounding "No!", and an expression of Dirk's disgust that Roachboy would even suggest such a thing, I hung up and tried not to look too smug when I told Roachboy Dirk's answer.
Life in my house rapidly became a nightmare after this. Roachboy became interested in the Black Panther movement, since he'd failed to meet the requirements of his previous obsession with the MC5 and the White Panthers (the requirement was getting laid on the Zenta New Year, for those not paying attention). As a side note, Roachboy was the one who came up with this requirement, no-one else.....it was all part of his mental disorder.
He'd lie in the workroom, which was, unfortunately, located directly under my bedroom, and listen to me walk in my room at night. I know, because he told me. He referred to himself as my Mongoloid, and talked about how he wanted me to abuse him. I quickly learned to avoid him. He quit his job and spent most of his time sympathizing with Krisco and making my life as uncomfortable as possible.
Then, he moved away, and I was happy.
So, for all of his little cohorts that read this site to keep him updated on my life so he can gloat, this is the loser you respect and idolize. This is the martyr that deserves to be pitied because of all the horrible things I've done to him. And, if Roachboy is still reading this (because I know how dull his sad little life is right now), I fucking dare you to say I'm making this shit up. In fact, I volunteer to dedicate an entry to whatever response you decide to give.
Well, that took my mind off my problems for a while.
(1:25 p.m.) You know, that seemed such a brutal note to close the entry on. Deep down, in my heart of hearts, I'm really not a bad person, and I don't think bad thoughts about people (much). I make huge exceptions in the case of Roachboy and Krisco, however, because I think they're slime and I will not be completely satisfied with my role in life until they are wiped off the face of the planet, leaving only big greasy smears to show where they once stood. Some of the more tenderhearted might say that I have this reaction because of guilt, because I wronged them and I know it. Bullshit.
What brought this up? I was passing by Krisco's house yesterday, and, unfortunately, she and her boyfriend, Billy, were sitting on her front porch. I hate it when that happens, because it makes me feel like I'm spying on her. I'm not, because I can't afford the surveillance equipment that would let me listen to her whining 24 hours a day (I'm kidding, if you're that slow). Actually, her house happens to be on a road that cuts through to our Parkway, without having to fight traffic. So, I pass more often than I like. Anyway, her hair was a fading shade of green, which I'm sure is punk as hell.
I wouldn't know, because I have too much sense (these days) to dye my hair a damn silly shade like that. I did it once, and regretted it the entire time my hair was green.
Oh, I'm heartened by the fact that the Republicans lost a seat in Congress, and two major places, California and New York are now Democratic. I knew those jerks would get a lot of backlash for this whole Lewinsky-sucks-Mr. President's-PeePee Joke. As if anyone cares where the presidential member's been.......although we'd like to think it hasn't been anywhere he could pick up rabies.
And, I'd like everyone to know that I'm planning on moving out of my house, and away from That Cunt, As Soon As Possible. That's why I have money saved, that I would hate to waste on getting rid of Agent Skatter Jr.
Okay, I had written a cheap shot at another journalist whose guestbook I signed. In the name of good taste, I deleted it. My hormones are going bonkers. Anyone want to trade?
And the creepy Ichabod Crane guy is back to look at his personnel file. His eyes light up when he sees me.....is it wrong to have an urge to say, "I'm pregnant with another man's child! Back the fuck off!"? I wish there was a diplomatic way to make him go away. But I don't think anything short of bluntness would deter him. Even if I, say, casually mentioned, "You know.....one of my favorite pastimes is picking my nose and eating whatever I dig out," Ichabod wouldn't be impacted in any way.
So, it would be easier on us both if he'd just die.
Besides, I think he's being a bit pushy for a grade increase. If he's still a level 3 at the age of 33, I think he should give up. That's his home now.
No-one's come forward with the words to the song "Dear Mr. Jesus" as yet.....when I get the words I will be one happy booger.