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  1.  (10248.61)
    @Rachael - It's crazy how happy the docs are to hand out narcotics like candy if you have a demonstrable medical problem. When my back was at its worst, I was tempted to start walking with a cane just to have a visible clue that I was suffering. Half the time I was limping anyway. Having people who've suffered through chronic illness was a huge help for me while I was dealing with mine.

    @Flecky - Narco detox is not any fun. I've gone through it twice. Nowhere near as bad as you since I'm so terrified of addiction that I would take less than half of what the docs were telling me to take. Still, I hope to never have to get back on Percocet to the point where my body rebels when I stop taking it.

    @GovSpy - Awww. I may need you to ghostwrite love letters for me (assuming I start dating somebody and want to send her love letters).

    @bob - That's rough man. Have you guys considered adopting? The idea of little Chinese Icelandic Viking Scots lasses running around sewing chaos makes me happy. I know that's not for everyone. My sister spent the last several years going through treatments to have a second kid. I don't really know the details, but I know my brother-in-law suggested adoption and she was having none of it. She had a little girl a few weeks ago, so there still might be hope. It's amazing what medical science can do these days.

    My spleen is actually fairly bile free at the moment. I took my daughter in to visit a friend of mine who's in the hospital recovering from getting her hip replaced (at 36). Speaking of pain, she's got some. She was really there for me and I feel horrible that I can't be more there for her (says the guy who held her hand as her catheter was removed after her last hip surgery) but she lives two hours away and that's just too much of a road trip to make with my daughter on any sort of regular basis. We then went to my sister's and my kid met her new cousin for the first time. Last night, I managed to grind out several pages of my comic, finishing the first draft of issue three. Five more issues to go. They're outlined so no problem, right? Then a few more days being a single dad before I spend the weekend on call (so no drinking).

    @everyone - I hope things look up (even if they're good right now, they could be better, right?). Cheers!
  2.  (10248.62)
    So. I went to the ER on Sunday night / Monday morning because of the Lyme Disease resurgence which, in me, already having borderline cerebral herniation at the back of my skull, manifests is TERRIBLE headaches from the infection-borne encephalitis. It feels like my skull is being choked, and I cannot sit upright without pain for more than 45-15 minutes (the painfree-upright time continues to decrease throughout the day, till I sleep again). I explained that I'd had Lyme, that it'd been creeping back, and that I kicked it all into high gear by over-extending myself helping a freind move. They wrote it down as me having muscular-skeletal pain, blamed the moving, gave me a shot of toradol (bullshit) and a prescription for fucking naproxen (more bullshit). I was in tears as they sent me off, explaining that these pain killers wouldn't do a thing, that I didn't even WANT painkillers if they'd just give me antibiotics. The nurse told me that they couldn't give me antibiotics unless they KNEW I had Lyme, and that the test results would be back Tuesday. Why they couldn't treat me for non-specific brain swelling, I don't know.

    Today I called the hospital for my results, got transferred 6 times in as many minutes, and finally was told that the tests weren't back, and they'd no idea when they would be ready. I tried then making appointments with four different Infectious Disease doctors who were written up as Lyme Disease specialists. Nobody will take me as a patient because I'm now "chronic" and not "acute".

    Meanwhile, I had what I thought was a good interaction with my roommate last night about being fair to each other in our living spaces, to then find that he'd gone to bed without cleaning up the beer bottles that have sat in the livingroom since Sunday, with socks and shoes and personal belongings about, too. During email conversation today it seems that he cannot accept that it is not cool to leave garbage, recycling, food-stuff, and laundry in the common areas, and feels that I am not compromising enough. To me it is a respect issue, and pretty unacceptable. So, since he's got the lease, I guess I'll have to move this winter. I don't want to, and everything I read keeps telling me how Lyme Disease needs a lot of rest and free of stress, which is the opposite of apartment hunting and moving in NYC, but I fear that staying here long term will be even more stressful?

    However, on a positive note, I went to the pet store and bought $4 worth of crickets and deposited them on my street, and the inside of the block. Now I have cricket-song! This improves the quality of my existence in ways I cannot possibly explain. I think I might do this every week, spreading out the perimeter, and see if I can inspire a vast and permanent cricket population! Aaaaaahh.... so calming. NEED MORE CRICKETS!

    @sellmeyoursoul - yeah, I keep thinking i should get myself a new cane. I do limp on occasion, but more often it's a matter of being dizzy, or my spine hurting, or my shoulder and hip joints screaming from the Lyme. At least a cane is a sign to the world. Your friend with the hip issue, does she have Perthes? My mom is on her second hip replacement at age 53 due to Perthes.
    • CommentTimeOct 4th 2011
    @Rachæl You know where rent is cheap and there's tons of crickets? Utah. But really, you should do yourself a favor and never live here. I really don't know why I feel compelled to say this to so many of the things you post.

    @Bob I hope things work out for you guys. Don't know what to say other than that, but I really do.

    @GovSpy Even with everything your girlfriend is currently going through, hearing that letter, she's got to feel like the luckiest girl in the world. You're pretty much amazing.
  3.  (10248.64)
    Woah, hey, don't feed my ego too much now.

    I'm obviously a romantic. Telling me too many nice things can go to my head.

    This stuff is tough, gang. Make no bones about it. Having a loved one in rehab is hard work. You have to go to group therapy and stuff, and some of it is without your patient. I'm going to my first one tomorrow evening. And it's a tough schedule.

    Well, I'm at work tonight, til about 7am, then I get to go home, put in an order for some flowers (she likes Orchids) at the neighborhood shop, and then go to bed. I'll sleep for a little bit, pick up the flowers and then my buddy's dropping me off at the rehab place around 5, so we can visit for a couple hours, I can do at least one class with her and maybe one class without her, and then I get to get a taxi back to work again.

    She's worth it, but tonight I'm really feeling the beginnings of wear & tear. Physically too. Last night had to do stairwell rounds up and down like 16 flights of stairs in the jail, and my calves are killing me! Remember to stretch first, folks! The combination of graveyard shift, the empty bed, my sleep apnea machine is spitting water at me, switching sleep schedules almost daily to make lunch appointments with friends, recover from a (small) drinking binge the other night, and adjusting to visit schedules, rehab meetings & work means I'm delerious almost every day.

    Wow. Didn't mean to make bitch session.

    Regardless, this has become my number one place to vent, and have a bit of freedom to not worry about what I'm saying. Don't have to self-edit for friends/family sake. Thank you. A million times thank you.

    Also, remember I'm no saint. I've been an enabler for the past few years, and my hands are not clean.
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeOct 4th 2011 edited
    @ all:the flecky hopes the kids are all peachy keen. I will read your stuff after tapin in my mindshite.
    @Rachael: hope you are ok.I've actually been worried about you as i conduct my experiment in coming back to the nightmare of reality.

    And a nightmare it is.If not physically withdrawing then i feel like i've taken a tab of really dodgy LSD..everything is bright as trees in the street look like something out of Swamp Thing..small birds look like vultures ready to peck my eyes out..there is a lack of dimension if i's like i'm looking at a cabbage green oil painting..the sky looks like the north sea..all deep black and dark blue and slowly moving in time with my breathing..
    It's nearly 6 30 a.m in the Bush,west's still dark. i keep having micro sleep and when i wake i don't know if it's the a.m or the p.m.My legs are playing up from all the damage i did to them with the needle.Coming to terms with it is fooking scary as shit sometimes.I can't even get a simple blood test taken without having to be sedated as they have to use my neck or groin.
    I nearly died once from shooting up crack..ended up on the slab of Chelsea and Westminster casualty with a centre line needle from my neck to my heart so they could drip drip drip me antibiotics.When i tried to reach for a cup of water the bastard fell out!Had to take handfulls of yeast stink pills that made me gag from the taste.

    All real good fun! All character building drugs are cool stuff! feels fooking lovely when shite tourists look at me cripple my way about.They look at me as if i just asked them for a skull fook.Children run to women look like i've just said "Bitch..i'm gonna flip you and do you from behind..Game of Thrones style"

    Yeah my life is fookin' fantastic.Top notch.Beautiful.Really Chelsea posh.

    Gonna post this as i reckon my server is playing up again..intersite existential dread.

    Flame on unt die shite vurld!!!
  4.  (10248.66)
    Thanks to you, Flecky! And you too, Fishelle!

    I probably shouldn't be bothering with my roommate stuff. It's frustrating, but not a terrible situation. I've lived in terrible situations. This is just a bit annoying, but it's OH so much easier to focus on the annoying than think about the deep dark terrible things that I have no control over and/or that reach out and throttle me with slimy hands from the distant past, ancient rotting moments in time that will follow my scent for eternity. Zombie memories of the then, chaotic fire daemons of the now, and the teeth gnashing harpies swooping down from the future.

    However! Even though my head is exploding, I still managed to cram in a month's worth of Developmental Psychology in the past four days. Three quizzes (one of which I took while waiting for delivery food to arrive before I went to the hospital), four messageboard essays, lots of kinda-sorta-reading, and I have gotten A's on all of them. It's really not a testament to my intelligence, my university is depressingly remedial. Twenty multiple choice questions for an online (therefore, open book) quiz, and we are allotted TWO FUCKING HOURS. I'm ashamed I've gotten anything less than 100%, honestly.

    And my professor is impressed with my ability.


    Granted, I've got three other classes I've not even STARTED to try and catch up with yet, and they might be actually challenging. (doubt it, though)
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    Pushed out of being cool, brain unhooked makes compassion impossible; got pushed out of comfort to one of the worst places I know and I reacted with spite and fury. Blah. Phobia not a little discomfort, it's not a little "eek," it's complete discombobulation, it's complete uncoupling of access to rational thought. It's solid, primal, and implacable. So I fucking hate running into it. I hate it when it's triggered. I can't be me, I can't think, I can't demand better of myself.

    I'm very sorry about that.

    I'm trying to right myself after an odd month of slouching my way through shit-I'm-supposed-to-be-doing and throwing myself on a lot of fun stuff that might indirectly help me, but not in any immediate way. A week ago I wrapped up some introductory classes to Viewpoints and Suzuki style acting. It's had fireworks going off in my actor/director/creative brain for quite a while, making it hard to focus on my tasks at hand. I'm starting to come out of it - well I did a few days ago, but then other things intervened - but I really need to get up a solid blog post or two on it soon.

    I haven't been blogging. In fact the last post of any kind was for 9/11 commemoration (sort of) and the last real blog post was in August, nearly two months ago. Ack. I haven't been writing long form in a while, but I have several notes of stuff I want to expound on, at least in theory.

    I'm not at all sure what I've been doing, really. Videos, reading, hanging with friends... ok all of that maybe more than I should when there's plenty I have to do. But huh? where'd the time go?

    In the last week I've gotten up to some really fun excursions that have pushed me to think about where I want to go in life. I hate making choices that exclude other options, but if I want any of them to be a strong possibility instead of a vague maybe that's what's necessary. Thursday evening I went to a performance of Trojan Women, as interpreted by SITI company (whose members were teaching the Viewpoints/Suzuki training; those styles were developed by the founders of SITI). My GOD it was brilliant. I mean just fucking glorious. Hah my mom (the only person I could convince to go with me on the short notice I had) called it "dramatic." Hehe, understatement of the century, but you know what, I choose to think that means it took dramatic to a whole new level. Another great blog entry there, going on and on about seeing the concepts of Viewpoints on stage, and noting the extraordinary strength and presence the actors cultivated through their Suzuki training. Shhh...don't tell my parents but sometimes going to see great theatre feels better for my soul than going to church. };>

    Saturday I headed up to my friend's haus bright and early to work on DecomLA, aka the Burning Man after party. I'm now even more prone to thinking I like civilization more than I like the chance to be as a crazy and free as the burn supposedly allows, but it doesn't fucking matter because I got to help put this together and then have a blast there:

    Art Car Bus Stop

    Took a while to recover on Sunday, though. And then I tried but mostly failed to help my friend move. I'll skip the boring details of truck technical issues and get to the punch line: it a macho manly man to diagnose the problem accurately and instruct me on how to be gentle. }:P

    And now it's home again and the "work" week again, only getting moving is still eluding me. }:/
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    @oldhat:"toxic people". I know what that means.I'm real careful who i give e-mail to.Infact just my old man and step mom who live in Oz.Supposed best friends from past have sent me some right nasty tx garbage.I find it the ultimate form of cowardice.They wouldn't say it to my face as they know i can give back as good..or better..than them.Dreams..mad stuff.I had a full on using drug shit tother nite.Was so real..yet just woke a little weary.
    Bollox..dyslexia setting in..i cringe when unable to spell simple words.

    @razrangel:thanks for support.

    I'd like to thank everone infact.This site has really helped me get through some dark shit.I'm proud to get to know the lot of you.You are mental and cool!

    Got to pick up a little certificate in a few hours from this Intuitive Recovery course i did.It's recognised as good shit so will use it to access college when better.I also started voluntary work at the clinic i've been hating for years..gonna change the rules..dictate the tempo..hulk smash puny N.H.S!!

    @govspy: you seem to be on track.I hope your partner is putting the work in too.

    Gonna read some comics..or try.I have the attention span of a special class viking berserker at moment.Heads for breakfast..
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    O hi I'm cranky and sniffly. Yesterday I had a single non-drowsy Advil Cold & Sinus and I swear I got a buzz off the pseudoephedrine. I was jaw-grindy and everything. I haven't heard of anyone else being this sensitive to stimulants yet, but I'm sure they're out there. (You should've seen me on a single Ritalin.)

    So I'm in bed, typing up class notes, uploading pictures to Flickr, listening to various WCers' 8trackses (Alan Tyson, at the moment). I'm working the election tomorrow, 15 delicious hours of pleasantries and honour-system-with-sworn-oaths and the oppressive fluorescent lighting of a public school gymnasium. I had better get healthy, fast. Currently trying to secure a plug-in kettle so I can have tea throughout the day, at least. I'm definitely baking scones to take tomorrow (though I won't be bringing clotted cream, which is a bummer); the only tasty-additive I have on hand is strawberries, which I'm sure will turn out okay. Also taking a knitting project. Can you tell I'm trying to make friends with old people?

    Yesterday I rampaged through the apartment, sorted stuff to give away, cleaned all the clothes out of the sauna (long story), finished a half-dozen sewing projects, canned some pears, and otherwise puttered hardcore. I can't find a battery charger for my Black & Decker drill, so the shelves remain sitting on the floor, gaaaaaah. And I don't have proper canning supplies, so it's possible one or two of the jars didn't seal properly. I'm getting better (shorter) jars today, if I can make it as far as putting on pants.

    Man, I'm positively boring.
    • CommentAuthorArgos
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    @flecky glad whitechapel is helping ya out!!! A lot of us feel the same way about this place, it really is quite special, and we're glad to have ya as part of the mental and cool crowd here :)
    • CommentAuthorArgos
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    gah, Wells Fargo wants to start charging me a $10 monthly fee because I'm poor. Nickel and dimed....
      CommentAuthorAlan Tyson
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    @flecky: Stick around, mate. This place will change your life.

    @Allana: Hey, cool! Which one are you listening to?

    @Argos: That is a heaping helping of fucked up. I've got no other words for that.

    So, the family I've been adopted into tried an experiment recently. When I first moved in, they had a cat, which after a short period of "who the fuck are you?" grew to like me pretty well. I want to say eight months after I moved in, we decided to get a dog, and ended up with a goshedly cute German Shepherd-Collie mix. The experiment was to see how we would do with two dogs.

    We decided, via online ads basically, on an older Shepherd named Odin, who we were hoping would make a good playmate for Ares (our current dog). We had a lot of fun with the idea that we'd have two gods of violence packed into our house.

    Long story short, Odin ain't doing so well. We brought him him, and he's got arthritis so bad that he's confined to the main level, as he can't go up or down the stairs, and the main level is all hardwood floor, which is just murder on his joints. To make matters worse, he's apparently never seen a cat before, and decided instantly that she was prey. To make matters EVEN worse, Ares decided that Odin raised an interesting point, and now he thinks of the cat as prey.

    Surrogate Mom and her daughter (my college friend) are taking him back to his foster parents now, but it already feels kind of odd and empty around here. There's no telling if Ares will chill out with the cat, and I think in his doggie brain he's convinced that Surrogate Mom is leaving with this other dog and is never coming back, because he is SADDEST PUPPY right now. I keep telling him he's such a princess, but I know that to him, this isn't a joke. Poor guy.

    Surrogate Mom really wanted to be the kind of person who'd take care of an old guy like Odin too, I think, and things just didn't work out, through no-one's fault, but she's feeling guilty over it, and this is a woman who shouldn't feel guilty about anything.

    Sigh. It's just sort of a sad, draggy day, here in Alanistan.
    • CommentAuthorArgos
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    That story story just gave me a big, genuine :( look on my face, at the part where Ares is the saddest puppy. Poor thing, though luckily Surrogate Mom will be back and then he'll be happy pups again.
      CommentAuthorAlan Tyson
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    Argos, I actually just too him for a good long walk/jog, and he's doing a LOT better now, actually. I think he was still a little disappointed that Surrogate Mom wasn't home yet when we got back, but he plopped right down on his bed and thumped his tail for a while. I shall convey your concern to him!
    • CommentAuthorArgos
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    awww, thanks :)
  5.  (10248.76)
    So, for those of us self-publishers on the low end, CreateSpace seems to be a tempting POD solution. Instant access to without the hassle of shipping tiny orders to them every month, access to wider distribution without the hassle of returns. They really sucked me in.

    And now I'm in a panic. I've put together Volume 2 of ESCAPE FROM TERRA, the art for which was drawn to a fairly specific format: 6"x9" trim, .25" margins at outside, top and bottom, .325" margin on the inside. Pretty much the way I've done all my books.

    But after spending considerable time with Adobe InDesign carefully assembling the book, CS refuses it. The reason? Since it has more than 150 pages (214 to be exact), they demand the inside margin be increased to .75 inches. Which would not be so much of an issue with a prose novel but I'm sure folks here understand what that means for a comic-book -- the bleeds won't work right, and the art would have to be shrunk so as to leave huge margins at top and bottom of page, and the lettering so small as to be almost unreadable.

    And here I am with two weeks to go before I need to have advance copies for a convention I'm attending later this month.


    Ka-Blam can't get the books to me in time without charging a prohibitive "expedited delivery" fee. My only choice now is Lulu.

    I know this story pales in comparison with some of the other drama going on here (especially poor Rachel's) but I have high blood pressure and I don't need this.
  6.  (10248.77)
    Egad, am I the current record-holder of woe around here? Well, have a new hefty heaping...

    Dammit, I'm on the bus on my way home from school. The fellow with many bags offered to let me on ahead of him, and I declined. He then went straight to the back of the bus and took the long soft bench that spans the whole width of the vehicle. I always grab that spot, so that I can lay flat and survive the head pounding I invariably have from a day of activity.

    Today has been frustrating. I set my alarm for 11 so I can get my body moving, to then get my OCD self dressed, and get my agoraphobic self prepared to leave the house by 2 so I can subway to the bus station and get a 3 o clock bus (it only runs every 2 hours), so I can arrive on campus by around 4, so I can finish and print my paper for my pathetic English class (which uses a book recommended for 10-12th graders) that starts at 6. On Monday, I'd been emailed by Disability Services that my digital texts (so I can actually READ) had finally arrived, so I headed to their office when I arrived on campus. When I got there, (during their office hours) the secretary told me curtly that nobody was in, couldn't tell me when they WOULD definitely be in, and blamed me for not making an appointment. A seriously frustrating interaction followed with me on the verge of tears, explaining to her that it's a month in to the semester, that I sent my special book request within days of getting the form, and I might have to withdraw from most of my classes. Hopefully my advisor will get them to mail me the CDs.

    With an hour before class, I wrote and printed a three page paper, suffered through English with throbbing skull, then waited an hour and a half for the hour long bus ride to Manhattan, where I am now.

    Last night had me in hysterics, and I feel sobs constantly hovering right beneath the surface. I can't tell how much of it is the Lyme Disease effecting the functions of my brain and emotions, or how much of it is legitimate woe in response to having more illness on top of illness, more brain damage on top of brain damage, more struggle on top of struggle, more rare disorders that doctors won't treat on top of rare disorders doctors won't treat, more loneliness on top of loneliness. Another year my favorite season has been stolen from me from sickness. More time slipping away while I'm still trying to make up for all that I'd lost.

    There's this fellow who was the shining center of my life for a long while. The best way to explain it is that there's a million and two reasons just like this one. He's the ONLY person who didn't fade away or awkwardly shift in the face of my health issues and psychological wierdnesses. Things between us got really weird 2 years ago. We tried, on two different occasions, to reconnect, but the moment he'd leave i'd just break into sobs from a confused and broken heart. We'd been chatting again recently, and it was nice.... but then... well, after my roommate lying, my family dicking me with the beach house, a friend asking me for a free website, I started to feel... solitary. The beach house idea was largely inspired so that this fellow and I could spend a weekend together where we used to, and hopefully reset ourselves. I thought we just needed a few days of stress free escape to learn how to be with each other again, but that fell apart. So, after all of that, and feeling like I just don't have anyone in the world, I randomly asked him if we could promise to not lie to each other or conceal things, not ever, even if we hate each other. The conversation that followed went badly. I got upset and hung up.

    And then I realised that every time things between us go badly, my Lyme Disease is flaring. When we first fell apart, when we tried to rekindle, when the following autumn when I thought I could be friends, each time I started bursting into sobs. Each time, my Lyme Disease was eating my brain. Each time, I sobbed myself sick and was emotionally unable to find a way out of the frenzied woe. I wrote and apologized for hanging up. He'd emailed me that he needed time to think and respond, but that he'd reads everything I write. So I wrote him about the Lyme, that it coincided with everything. I started researching, and sent him these two links I found about Lyme and depression: The Psychological Effects of Lyme and Lyme, Depression, and Suicide

    I hoped that maybe it would help explain my distraught states of the past. I apologized for being crazy, and that maybe I should stay away. But then the next day, found an event in Texas this weekend and asked if he wanted to drive down with me and my crazy self.

    Yeah. A bit random and erratic.

    But he's going through shit, and I actually have money to treat HIM for a change, help him escape for a while, and I wanted to help him and he'll never just ASK for help or even ACCEPT it easily. I've got the means to do all this stuff all of a sudden and I just want everything to be ok with the person I want to do things with so we can do things and have fun together, dammit.

    So last night he wrote to me, frustrated at my emails, having wanted me to leave him be until he responded, which I totally misunderstood. He's got stuff in his own life, and his life and his problems are his own, and mine are mine. My take on things of coming together and being a refuge for each other when bad things are happening, being a team, well.... it doesn't seem to fly with him. At least, not anymore, and not with me being so fucking crazy, I suppose. I thought... if I explained that it's the sickness... But no.

    He doesn't want me to contact him.

    I can't really blame him.

    So. I've got a drivers license for the first time in ten years, an apartment in NYC, enough money to adventure, but the one person I desperately want to take out to dinner or help in some way has finally had enough of me. He was the only person who didn't go away, and now he has. He was the most important a person has ever been to me. i don't really have any friends left.

    So last night there was lots of sobbing and hysterics.

    And I can feel it right under my skin. Like I'm nothing but skin filled with the wetness of tears and snot, and the sounds of sobbing.

    Sorry people. Sorry for my very long ramble. I'll probably edit it away later when I have a wave of proper sanity inbetween the waves of hysterics. It's actually worrying me, my mental state, and it's very sudden and rapid decline. If not for desperately trying to stay in school, and losing my insurance if I don't stay a student, I'd consider checking msyelf in somewhere.

    Oh god my head hurts.

    I'm too crazy and sick for anyone to deal with.
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011
    I'm so sorry, Rachael. Losing the one person that you really want to be with is just the absolute worst. Internet hugs and good vibes are being sent your way.
  7.  (10248.79)
    @sellmeyoursoul & flecky - yeah, I've been dope sick once, and that was just from overdoing it for a week or two. Quitting months of the morphine pills in the midst of the Lyme Disease was one of the most physically and emotionally awful things I've ever been through. I had vibrating massage things all over my back, and one on my crotch, just for some sort of pain releif and endorphin release. i can't fucking imagine what real true addiction withdrawl would possibly feel like.

    @allana - hey, you might be positively boring, but at least you are POSITIVE! yay!

    @Scott Beiser - Is there some kind of graphic element you could add to the top and bottom margin space to balance it? i mean, that doesn't help the font readibility, but some kind of decorative seriph on top and bottom could solve the layout balance issues. It could even change slightly on each page, like a flipbook animation! (or not, being that it'd probably be waaaaay more work that you want to add to your plate at the moment)

    @Fishelle - thank you. I'm a mess over the boy, and I have been missing him for two years, but this is... worse. i'll never be able to truly make him friend if i don't see him. Instead my romantic wonderings will return, and I'll end up with a fake and squishy what-if romance frozen in my amber heart, instead of having a fabulous human being in my life (with or without romance).
    • CommentTimeOct 5th 2011 edited
    @rachael, that's terrible and I'm sorry you're going through it. But maybe he just needs a break from things in general? I've had falling outs with people before and one of them was actually almost the same. Things were crashing around me and they were the one person I wanted to be with and it turns out in the desperation of my own situation I ended up being just one more element in the chaos that was going around in her life and she just wasn't used to it. She said some horrible things and that was that...for a while. Now we're back to being friends. So I think, with the history you two have, it may just be possible that the shit he's going through is too stressful and he just needs a break from other things so he can focus on dealing with it. This may not be permanent. Hell, in a couple of months or enough time until the both of you may be in a better place, send an e-mail his way. His tone may change.

    @Raz, "But it does move further and further back into the rearview, so long as you keep driving forward. That's a major fucking relief." that's the best description of it I've heard. And yeah...even a year ago I used to say "I've moved on, but I haven't gotten over it" if that makes sense. But it's so great when you reach the point that you cease to care about news about that person.

    @flecky Yeah, took a while, but I've learned that I'd rather have a small group of friends who would take a bullet for me (and I for them) rather than a large group of wankers who would sell me out for half a Kit Kat if given the chance.