Today was off.

I had at least one full panic attack in the middle of my class. And many half ass "hey, you're getting close" moments. I was behind on sleep for at least the first half of my day. The second half, post-nap, wasn't too bad until I tried to see The Boy.

I have no clue if I've mentioned here, but he has to move. The family he's staying with is moving, and they can't take him. Not that he could go anyway, because of work. But it's been stressful for him. He's too short on the money, his current room mate (a complete partier with terrible priorities and no concept of clean) has invited himself to come along and not pay a down payment, his soon-to-be room mate (I love David. David > Dumbass) is having trouble finding work, and now something else happened today and he was so stressed he seemed to barely get through a conversation with me, let alone really want to see me. My ego's a tad bruised.

Is it stupid? Yes. Am I still hurt anyway? Yeah.

And then Stacy is coming back tomorrow, and everyone's miserable here because of it.

Okay, dinner. Sorry that you guys finally get an update and I'm being emo.

So I guess the term "Internet Blog Project" might be a little bit more applicable to what I'm doing now.

To explain, I have expanded myself over several sites, and will probably end up on more by the time I'm back in school (June 11th). So this is my site for talking about my life; my Tumblr is for quotes, conversations, and websites; my Vox is for QotDs, Vox Hunts, and discussions of books, movies, shows, and CDs; my finetune is my attempt to both expand my musical taste and share it with others; and my twitter is for all those little updates in between.

Then, I'm hoping to get back to 43things which would be for my eternal quest to improve on myself (or just try a couple kinky sex acts). In other words ... NOW is the time to throw your latest internet trend at me to see if I'm interested! I also feel a little behind because I just jumped on the Technorati boat.

To quote my Tumblr (like Katili did), "[Melony Louise: more determined to be a world-famous internet whore than j00.] "

Okay, so back to life.

I went to the doctor today for my panic attacks (finally). I had a small scare because he asked at random, "does your family have a history of heart disease?" I was like, "oh my God, I'm the start of a history of heart disease in my family, aren't I!?" But then he went back to normal discussion of panic attacks. I'm supposed to get a phone call from The Mind Institution in Downtown Sacramento, and if I don't by Monday, I'm to call them.

And I realized at the doctor that I am far too optimistic. To the point that yes, I realized that there have been problems, but it never clicked how much is happening to me at once. Coming up in less than six months is my 18th birthday. Here in a couple weeks I go to summer school. My dad's coping with alcoholism. My mom fights with him a lot for it. The Boy has heart problems, and depression related to it. And I'm sure that if you didn't see my rant about Stacy, you will soon.

It's uncharacteristic of me, almost. I can think back to previous points in my life where, when things got just a little rough, I was ready to freak and bitch and moan. But you know what it is? I've always had a good, tight knit, happy family, even with the problems. But now I have friends [and a boy] that make me feel the same way. Where it used to bother me that I didn't have many people in my life, it doesn't any more, because the relationships are of quality so I don't need the quantity.

This is all nice, until you realize that it's allowing me to not deal with problems and let them manifest into ... attacks. It's very strange, how not even being happy makes me truly happy.

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!
EDIT END

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

How does yours truly deal with the sudden arrival of anxiety attacks? Oh, it's quite easy. I put off all my schoolwork to the last minute, even the stuff that's late, and then I panic about how none of it is done and try to get it done even though I'm so tired and freaked out my mind is a dry well. Yes, it's as fun as it sounds.

That audition I was going to do got canceled. Didn't know until I got there either, which was real annoying. Hey, let's drive a half hour in the real hot weather, get there, find it's been canceled, and drive home! Doesn't that sound exciting!?

Me + Mr. Fab = Pointless Drivel Live on May 13th at Seven Pacific Standard Time! You should listen! Live, even! And interact! Because you're awesome like that! The exclamation points draw you in and you know it!

Okay, back to my overly put off homework. Fuck.

I'm learning that it's hard to keep up with updating this blog without just doing vague one-liner entries. Not to say that my life is boring or anything ... just that it's solely entertaining to me.

Today, I was made to watch Star Wars: The Phantom Menace by The Boy. Followed by ... a pop quiz about Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. Yeah, he's a loser, but it makes him lovable.

Always weirds me out a little when I find out that people I have classes with at ARC live in Rancho Cordova. Mostly cos the general reaction of people who find out I live in Rancho is:

"Oh ... Rancho ... Interesting ... [People there go to college? Huh.]"

Rancho. Is Not. A Ghetto. There is like a block of ghetto, and even then, it's not like I'm afraid to step foot in it ever. I mean, I prefer not to, but it's not like there's some "I'll die if I do" mentality to it. It's more like a "my father has convinced me that I'll be sold into prostitution if I do" mentality.

Finally, May 13th. 7est. Pointless Drivel Live and MLIBP combine for one hour of radness! Listen, for the sake of your Grandchildren!

Oddly, I nearly forgot about one of the biggest things for me as of late (probably because I'm not really talking about it that much in real life): I need information on anxiety attacks and/or disorders revolving around them. Within the last week I've had seven at complete random, three being in one day. The attacks are very weird, almost like dejavue meets a hard punch to the chest. My best guess is that they're panic attacks, but if they sound like something else, please do provide me with information.