Panic attacks are a son-of-a-bitch. I was just thinking to myself the other day, "I think mine are gone. It must have been a week at least since my last one!" But of course, as punishment, one kicked me in my invisible testicles today. So tomorrow, I'm going to call the doctor's office again and make an appointment.

Which leads me into how much I HATE UC Davis. Best doctors in the United States, the worst fucking desk bitches. "Leave a message for Dr. [Radio Edit]. I want information on my recurring bladder infection, or maybe just have it re-looked at or something, and I'm having panic attacks." "Okay, someone who isn't your doctor is going to call you back in five minutes and demand you go to a Med 7 for a urine test, and I think that since you've only been having attacks for a week they aren't that important." Two weeks later, I've learned that bladder infections, the recurring kind, are really not curable by medication ... it's all about using natural things to keep it bearable (cranberry juice, lots of water, and avoiding added sugars) and being hygienic about the things that cause it to flare (in my case, sex). But the panic attacks, I have no idea what the cause is, if there are dietary changes I should make, if maybe I need a shrink type person, just that the feeling of going insane is a NORMAL SIDE EFFECT. What the fuck, right?

You know it's bad when they have to actually put a sign up: "if you've been waiting for twenty five minutes or longer, please let us know [my handwriting in sharpie under it: BECAUSE WE ARE DIPSHITS WHO HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THE FUCK WE'RE DOING. KTHNXBYE.]"

Okay, enough bitching. Tomorrow will be the first day since I started last semester that I'll be sticking to a schedule. It's pretty sad that I have to program myself like an obsessive compulsive robot in order to get shit done, but hey, such is life. I just lost the game.

Also, my mom's been giving me shit since Sunday about the whole Don Imus being fired thing. It's kind of funny but annoying. Funny in that ... I don't really give a shit anymore. Annoying in that ... Jesus Christ, I don't give a shit anymore, woman!

EDIT START
I got the host site for my blogtalkradio show today! Now it's just a matter of getting the chick who wanted to be the first guest to talk to me and commit to a day and time. So, keep one's eyes peeled for when I run around nearly naked going WOOHOO!
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On a final note, I have the song from the Loituma Girl flash loop. My friend Elizabeth sent it to me, who I add is Canadian and thinks that my American accent is very cute. It's a shame that bit is all just Finnish gibberish cos I was gonna find the lyrics for that bit, learn it, and sing it on the lightrail for a couple hours while spinning a leek sprig. Ah well

Yesterday I broke my phone. Don't know how, but it went from fine and perfect to five to seven huge cracks in the screen. I can still make and receive calls, but any other function on the phone is null and void.

I also had my first peer review on a story I wrote. Positive, negative, and constructive feedback, along with indirectly being told that I'm wise and act older than my age. I've also been given the inspiration to write a novel around it, which I'm gonna do after I rewrite a novella I wrote a few years back. It'll probably be awhile, but it's still cool.

This morning I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Between pain, nerves, the attempts to break olllld habits, and just generally icky girlness, I've been crying a lot, much to my mom's confusion. I also think I might have had an abscess under one of them, a theory backed up by the fact that drinking water results in great pain in the spot where that tooth once was.

Novacaine is wearing off and I hate that taste. Also, the teeth were long. The longest was half an inch. And it was in my top row. So, um, yeah, no wonder I've been in pain.

I'm gonna eat, take some more meds, and maybe sleep. Hopefully the Boy will show up tonight, it would make me happy.

Bladder infections suck.

That's kind of jumping the gun a little in discussing my weekend thus far. Um, Friday I went down to Lambda with my friend Jonelle. It was gonna be a large group of us, but then some of us got sick and my boyfriend decided to play D&D like the nerd he is and meh. But it worked out anyway, cos she tends to be crazy and so we both get crazy and they'd all be like "OMG BEHAVE YOU LOSERS!"

We had fun: we snuck into a fenced off playground park thing, made asses of ourselves on the train, and some gay guys tried to get us to stay downtown and get drunk with them, but I had to be the voice of responsibility and go "we have to leave now or else we're stranded. And being stranded is no fun."

Once we got back in Rancho, she went home and I went over to the boy's for D&D. Stayed until about halfway through yesterday, when suddenly I was peeing out shards of glass. Metaphorically, anyway. So I went home and cried like a baby over my painful and gnarly infected vag. God do I love that term. But I am feeling a hundred times better today, so yay!

Now today, there's some sort of chance I'm gonna drag the boy out to Chai Poodle [Chipotle] to meet my friend Sam before she moves away to Okiehoma like a loser. I think it's gonna be her, her sister and her fiancee, and possibly our friend Robin. There's one problem with this plan though ... and that is, I don't know which Chai Poodle we're going to. Whoops.

And now I go to bathe.