commotiocordis: (Seven/B'Elanna)
Dog is worse today in that he won't shut up. When he's in the kitchen and I can hear him all the way from my room in the back of the house with the door closed, it's gotten to the point where it's intolerable. He finally ate something today, though, after a bunch of days of not. And then threw up. But none of the food seemed to come up in the puke (LOL, tmi), so hopefully he's getting some nutrition down. Unless, of course, it actually is one of my earlier theories from when I was just throwing stuff out there and is a gastrointestinal issue, in which case we're probably just compounding the problem. Ehh, though, in that he's a good 30 pounds over the upper weight limit (for labs, at least; the fact that his mutt side is even larger breed gives him a tad more leeway, but the failvets said 80lbs and he's at 113) means he's got a while to go before he starves to death, as horrible as that sounds.

Tis not good that the weather's starting to suck again (it was really nice for a few days) because that means we can't throw him outside much when he gets like he is right now (whining just to hear himself whine--it was bad when I was back in my room, now that I'm out by him it's 10x worse because he thinks I can do something about it).

Idk. I can't fathom how my mother is staying asleep through this, because he's making more noise than a woman in labor and her bedroom's the closest one. I would have woken up and thrown him bodily out the back door, pain in his hips/wherever or not, the amount of fuss he's making right now. (I notice that he calms down when I turn to look at him, LOL. Drama queen.)

And in other news. Before, I don't think I ever got around to mentioning, I was like "Oh, semi-good--school has offered me tons of money, I now don't have to agonize about where I'm going next year because the decision has been made by the cashygoodness." (I say semi-good because I was going to feel miserable either way--pressured to make the decision or confined that the decision was made for me--but at least this way, there's not agonizing about having made the wrong choice, at least at this stage, because choice was made by notme.) And then on Thursday, mail comes. Other school offers similar amounts of cashy money (not all of it, like the first one did, but enough that another scholarship that I've already got would cover all but a couple of hundred a year). Decision once again put on my shoulders. Made harder by the fact that I've visited neither of said schools. So I spent last night trying to compare programs and acceptance of test scores for advanced credit and such. Not nearly done doing so, however. *sigh*
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Okay. So the dog is back. But my entire faith in the Humane Society as a vet place has been killed. I don't believe they did anything. Well, I know they didn't do anything, but I also don't think they're right. They heard lameness in an overweight, 7.5 year old lab mix and immediately went to hip dysplasia or arthritis. They didn't do the spinal x-ray that they told my dad they would (or at least they didn't bill us for it, but what are the odds they threw something in for free, really?), just popped up the hip and knee x-rays up there, saw the arthritis (that we knew he had, that we've seen what he's like when he's in pain from, and which this is not) and said "Well, that's it, here's some pain killers, hopefully he'll be able to walk again in a few days."

After interrogatage on my part regarding how we knew he had arthritis and that this was a new, acute pain, the receptionist lady (who was really nice and totally up for bugging the doctors that were there to explain things) came back out with something about swollen lymph nodes and fluid buildup in the back legs that exacerbated the whole thing. (I didn't get the exacts on that one, this is what Dad reported; I was off looking at the cuteness of the pets up for adoption--funny story there, I was in the puppy room, and there were these triplet black dogs that I thought were the cutest in the whole room, breed/mix-wise. Just in terms of their face and body and such, that they were the best looking animals in there. Looked at their papers on the cage that told the breed and realized why--they were lab-chow mixes just like Rascal, LOL. From being around Rascal so much, I've become conditioned to find his body structure the most appealing.) By now, they're bringing him out on a dolly and heaving him into the backseat of my car (which I must now find air freshener for, because it vaguely smells of dog), so we had to leave so he'd still be partially doped up--he was so high he didn't recognize any of us when he got wheeled out--for the car ride (he gets carsick).

Did they give him anything to cut back on the fluid buildup? No diuretics of any kind? Nothing to combat the swollen (infected?) lymph nodes? Nope. Neither of the (at least) two vets that messed with him were there, nor would they be back until Monday. The receptionist lady said she'd ask them to call Dad on Monday and explain a bit more, but I'd really rather they called me, because he doesn't really know what's been going on as well as I do (nor does he report things well, since he doesn't have as much background knowledge on the medical stuff as I do).

So he's here. Sleeping, right now, thankfully, but I can hear even in his sleep that his breathing is labored with the pain. (Edit: And now that the pain just woke him up, he's practically Lamazing it over here with panting.) He's still constantly crying when he's awake, and when forced to move does this odd frog-crawl where he pulls with his front feet and hobbles in an almost sitting position on his haunches with his back knees bent and hunched up around him. I'm more than a little pissed, because he's obviously unwell and they did nothing about that save throw some pain meds at us--nothing to fix the underlying condition or even really tell us what said underlying condition was. And when he's miserable, the rest of the house is miserable, because crying dog = not conducive to sleep. Nor is a $300 bill from a vet who did nothing.

And I really want to know what they did to him while he was there, because evidently he had a "Caution: I bite" sign on his cage. This dog has never bitten anyone. Ever. Even the whole two days he was in pain before we took him down there and today when we got him back, when plenty of strangers have been coming in and out (as Kaci and Tyler both have had multiple friends over in the past few days). I suppose unfamiliar place plus pain plus nobody he knows could theoretically do it, but I doubt it. One of the tech ladies that we talked to was similarly surprised, because she worked with him a bit and she got no indication that he was prone to such bitage and mused that perhaps the sign simply wasn't taken off the cage from the last dog that was in there (which I hope was the case).
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
So the fat dog of ferocious cuteness?

. . . really sick. And I don't know what's wrong and I can't figure out where he's hurting, but it's bad.

He was acting weird all day yesterday, but we all figured that it was because my brother keeps having friends over and hanging out in the backyard (which is Rascal's domain) while leaving him inside so he can't mess up whatever the chitlins are doing out there (it has to do with building something, though I've not been allowed to know what). Same situation, same response this afternoon. Whining/crying a lot. But, you know, dog wants to go play, he whines. This was a weird crying, though, more towards what you'd think of as sobbing, I guess, but dogified. Still, thought it was weird, but shrugged it off. I also noticed he was acting doofusy-er than normal (he had trouble figuring out that he needed to back out of this corner of obstacles he got himself into and kept just trying to push forward past the box), but sometimes you just don't know with him--he can be really, really smart or totally retarded depending on the day and what you're trying to get him to do.

Last night, though, I really should have realized something was up. He was crying outside really late--I got home from mock trial around 9:30 or 10, ate, went to bed for a few hours, got up at 2, and he was doing it fairly constantly/often from then until when I left the kitchen (room where the computer is right next to the door to the backyard) to get ready for school a bit before 7. There were obvious breaks where he'd be asleep, but the pain was obviously (well, not obviously then, but obviously now) waking him up. More of this sobbage stuff--it reminded me at one point of a woman in labor, because there was panting too (as there was during the afternoons, but it made more sense then because he was wound up due to all the people around). I figured he just wanted inside the house, but it was a beautiful night (as it is tonight--fail at us not having a screen door anymore since it broke, or I'd have the door open) and I had massive amounts of work to do and didn't want to mess with him, so he stayed outside.

But I come home from the gym tonight, and Mum's like "Don't mess with the dog. He's sick or something." Me: "Yeah, he's been crying a lot lately." Discussion about how we all thought that it was just him doing it because he wanted to play with all the stupid neighborhood kids Tyler keeps traipsing through our house. But yes. Now he's evidently having trouble walking--Mum thinks it's his back legs, but he will occasionally get up and use them (he did a few minutes ago--let out this loud, almost surprised barksob of pain and a few seconds later, scrambled to his feet to come whine closer to me. It was horrible because he was trembling all over just trying to sit up but still managing to wag his tail when I talked to him, but all I could say to him was that I was sorry that I couldn't really do anything about it, and it was heartbreaking), so I think it's a systemic thing. And he's not got the sniffles or a cough or sneezes or anything, he's not throwing up or having diarrhea, so I've got no ideas. No good ones. I'm afraid it's a heart attack or some such--it wouldn't really be surprising, considering he is really overweight and though he's not ancient, he isn't exactly a spry young pup anymore (he's 8 or so, which should give him a good 5 more years if it weren't for the weight).

He's finally asleep now (methinks, or at least quiet), which is good. The pain was keeping him awake/waking him up earlier, which was sad, because he was just lying there on this big foamy cushiony sheet thing we pulled out of somewhere for him tonight with pitiful eyes and the occasional exhausted whine of pain. And it's worse, because it's not like either of my parents can just run off and take him to the vet first thing in the morning--the earliest we can get him anywhere is in the late afternoon, and that's after leaving him outside by himself all day.

Gah. Methinks we're going to continue giving him bits of asprin, because I gave him the first dose a few hours ago and he definitely doesn't appear to be as bad as he was when I got home, which is win. I just wish I knew what was wrong--even if I still couldn't do anything about it for the time being, at least I wouldn't be so preoccupied by the sheer mystery of it.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
So the teacher from my school with whom we go to this Saturday Scholars/stupid people!minimed? I hate that I can't decide what to think about him.

I've never been a student of his, but he used to be the person who sort of watched over the people waiting for the late bus, and he learned my name and we'd talked several times. A nice guy. Always said hello in the hallway, etc. I liked him.

Come to this fakey!minimed thing. First day of it (two weeks ago yesterday), we're in the hallway outside the anatomy lab dumping our stuff so we can get gowned and gloved and in there, and he mentions having forgotten to bring the smelling salts (or something; I didn't quite catch exactly what he called it, but that's what it was). He then turns to me (and only me): "You don't get nauseous, do you?" Me: "No. I mean, in cars when I'm trying to read, and when I'm sick, and. . . no?" I didn't get it at first, because I was trying to reconcile smelling salts with nausea, until it clicked--he was afraid I, being of the weaker sex, was going to get dizzy, sick, and pass out at the sight of preserved cadavers. I wouldn't have had a problem if he'd asked the whole group of people from our school, but he singled out me, as the only female.

Yeah. So miffed about that. To the point that I suffered through a migraine this Saturday (though oddly, one with no headache, just nausea--that's a new thing, though I definitely prefer it to getting the whole shebang, but it took me a while to figure out that that's what it was and not the salmon from the night before) while at the program even though I was pretty sure (turned out I was wrong, but still) I had a migraine pill in my bag right outside the lab, simply because I couldn't admit that I was feeling sick whilst in the presence of the cadavers for fear of justifying his earlier comments.

And then today. One of the med school presenters was asking some anatomy questions all quiz-style as a recap during part of the lecture. I knew all the answers, no surprise, because they weren't hard. (Though evidently I'm the only one who's heard of the hepatic portal vein? Or, you know, knew any of them?) But said teacher decided to hiss the answers in my ear even though my hand was already up to give the answer (though not very high, so I doubt he saw). I ended up just putting my hand down and not bothering for the rest, because by saying anything, I would be giving the answer he fed me and not the one I was planning to give, even though they were identical. Does that make any sense? I've been trying to figure out how to phrase that to bring the feeling across for a while now, and it's not quite happening. Anywho. offended, I was. I don't know why he chose me to feed the answers to and not the other three people there with our group--perhaps because he felt I'd be more receptive to actually raising my hand and giving them, idk--but I didn't like it.

So I've been getting this really patronizing vibe off of him lately, which is sad, because I liked him. And I don't think he realizes he's doing it--it's not out of any kind of chauvinistic intent, methinks, but maybe some twisted form of chivalry? Or not any of these things and I'm reading too far into stuff, permaybehaps.

I started updating this about the last few mock trials on Friday, but I wrote the beginnings out in a Word file and then left it on the computers at school, so that'll have to wait. Tuesday's regionals round 2, though (and the day I said I'd meet to work on this f!mmed presentation we have to do, which I'm going to have to reneg on, as I'd forgotten about mock trial when I said the date was okay), which should be interesting, as we're hitting (I think I've mentioned, but maybe not) one of the teams that we shouldn't, by all rights, be hitting until the state rounds. They changed the rules of ranking and matching again, so according to the results going into Regionals, we were ranked either 3rd or 2nd (depending on if you calculated rankings by the new rules: point differential between you and who you beat, or the old rules: number of points) and due to the ending of the power matching stuff (to stop the best teams from knocking each other out too early in the competition, the group that went on was split in half by ranking and #1 hit the top person from the bottom half, etc.), we're hitting the number 1 team on Tuesday. Gah. So expecting to move to State this year we are not. Especially with all the casting mixups going on lately--a good half of our people are doing something different/additional during Regionals than they did in Prelims.

AND MY DOG IS ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE ROOM BUT IS PASSING SO MUCH GAS THAT I THINK I'M GOING TO HAVE TO LEAVE OR DIE FROM THE STENCH. FAIL.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
I so wish I had a video camera.

There are ambulances going down the highway by my house. They pass. The sound continues to a lesser degree. I look out the back window. Tis the dog, howling at the exact pitch and . . . idk, doppler effect tone change as the ambulances were. For pure on-keyage, he's pretty damn impressive. I wonder why he does it?
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
My dog is the biggest idiot ever. Or, you know, hungry. Because he's actually quite a smart dog, but I've been worried about him lately because he's become all. . . me ravenous for food all the time. I've already fed him this morning (because he started whining), and I just caught him licking the cheese remnants off of the cheese grater that had somehow fallen to the floor. Not something I'd be all interested in licking, because of, you know, sharp. When I grabbed it from him, he was only sticking his tongue up the inside (it's sorta pyramidal) and going for the non-sharp bit, but still. He had to have licked the outside at least once to figure out that he needed to lick the inside.
commotiocordis: (Seven/B'Elanna)
Because I am a failure, a good half or so of the paragraph that I'm on for this paper that was due yesterday has been left on my computer at school. So rather than write it again, I think I'm going to bed now to hopefully be able to pull together that plus a conclusion into a page or so during the 70ish minutes I'll have free before economics. Shouldn't be too hard, but then again, until my dog shut up (he thought he didn't get enough to eat tonight before we ran out of dog food, the baby, and so cried for hours until I finally tossed him a couple of pieces of bread just to shut him up before I was forced to open the front door and let him out into the neighborhood so he'd bother somebody else) I only managed to scrape together about half a page in some two hours.

Ehh. This is life. I do not want to get bitched at for not taking the trash out (in 4 hours or so). Like always.

Reminds self. You made up a couple of page numbers for the second book citation. If you ever want to do anything with this paper beyond turn it in to econ, fix that.

Edit: Oh, and I found that Star Trek book, Before Dishonor, that everybody's been talking about. It was Peter David, what can I say? Perhaps talk to come on that. It confused me, because I'm pretty sure there was supposed to be a book before that, but nothing in this book said so, so idk.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
So I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop, and I hear my dog licking at something fairly close to me. I figure somebody spilled something on the floor earlier and didn't clean it up well, so he's licking at that. Nope. It was my water glass that I had set down on the floor next to me a few minutes before, lol. It's sort of short and wide, so he had no problem getting his tongue in there to drink more than half of it before I even noticed. *headdesk* (Hopefully, OMG) He's never done that before. Though I suppose I deserved it, as before that he was whining at me for something (I assumed more food) and I was ignoring him.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
I had a dream last night. The part that I can remember most vividly went something like this:

I was in a meadow/park thing with my dog. And there were some goats. And one goat decided to headbutt my dog. Dog's reaction was adorable (all confused like, which is totally what Rascal'd do, because he'd be all Labrador and "I want to be your friend!"), so I lol'd. Goat then sees me. Decides to go after me instead. I'm trying to fend it off, because getting headbutted hurts (though not completely successfully) and I hear this snort behind me. It's a big ram thing. With humongous pointy horns. And it looks angry. And so then I was thinking: do I try to be nonthreatening and hope it won't attack me, but almost definitely get gored if it decides to, or grab the horns (which is def. threatening and it would most def. try to attack me then) in hopes that I can steer the horns away from my body? I ended up grabbing them and was trying to keep it back when the dream ended.

But the overarching theme of the dream and what I was thinking the entire time was "Oh shit. I'm gonna get gored."

I think it's prophetic.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
OOH MY HAIR SMELLS GOOD.

I just noticed.

That's my story.

And now I'm going to go do the dishes so I can eat vegetarian hot dogs and lots of junk food and listen to the fireworks (because quite often we can hear somebody's from our house) and/or watch them on TV (which isn't as cool, but still pretty) and prevent the dog from gnawing off his leg (because morons threw firecrackers at him when he was little, so he's terrified of fireworks/thunder/other similar stuff).

And I only have one more day to finish reading all the FSAC: DD07 fics so I can vote before the deadline! It's so hard, because it's a ranking system this year, so you can't just pick the best, but rather have to order all of them, which is pretty impossible.
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
My dog is whining loudly. And it's too late for him to do that, because I can't let him outside, because the door opening/closing at 2:30 in the morning is loud enough (and a distinctive enough sound) to freak people out. And then he'd bark, and I'd open the door to let him in, and he wouldn't come in and would instead want to play, so I'd close the door, and then he'd bark again. Grr. So he's staying inside. Methinks he prolly just wanted either food or to play anyway.

Ah ha. It was indeed food that he wanted. He got all twitchy and tail-waggly when I moved near the food bucket. I realized that I didn't remember seeing anyone feed him tonight (though I was out shopping with dad for an hour or so, so I may have just missed it), so I figured it wouldn't hurt to give him a bit of food more to shut him up.

And now he's asleep. Annoying animal. Cute, but not conducive to discreetly staying up late.

*uses Richard Dean Anderson icon because he is rather puppy reminiscent in this picture*
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Hee, Valentine's Day presents! Umm, sort of.

It snowed today, which was yay. When I looked outside last night/this morning/at like 3 or whenever and thought it was just raining? Yeah, well evidently it was cold enough to stick to the ground. Yay, icy roads. Because they mean no school. Which was greatgreatgreat. Here's how my morning went after my dad heard that I was still up at 3:30 or so and turned the internet off:

3:40ish--Finishes playing around with stuff on computer. Reading fics that I still had open and such.
3:55--Puts the finishing touches on english paper (read: writes last two paragraphs) that was my original reason for being on.
4:15--Goes to bedroom. Starts Spanish homework. Does two pages of spanish homework in about 5 minutes (out of 20 someodd pages--gah!) and decides to finish it in morning/during other classes.
4:20--Puts homework down, turns off light, sets alarm for 5:30 to get up and work on more spanish, tries to sleep.
4:40--Watch alarm goes off. Had been set Sunday night for my mid-paper writing nap, forgot to unset it. Was almost asleep. Became completely awake.
5:30--Still hasn't fallen asleep. Alarm goes off, gets up, thinks about working on homework. Looks out window. No snow. Realizes no chance of reprieve by means of snow day. Re-sets alarm for 6am and actually goes to sleep.
6:00--Wakes up. Considers getting up, decides it's too cold and stays in bed. Doesn't fall back asleep, however. Nor works on Spanish homework. Hears mother's bedroom door open, figures it's a bathroom trip, ignores it.
6:20--Gets up, gets dressed, crawls back in bed (because the call of the electric heating blanket is just too strong for a mere mortal like me to resist).
6:40--Gets up again, puts on shoes, packs stuff in backpack. Finds brush, brushes hair.
6:46--Leaves bedroom. Whole house is dark. Is confused. Thinks that maybe there's no school. Dismisses thought--the universe is not that kind.
6:48--Opens mother's bedroom door. Asks why nobody is up. Mother looks at watch, I (mis)interpret facial expression as "Oh, shit. We're all late." Mother speaks: "There's no school." Me=flabbergasted. "Somebody could have told me that." Mum: "I didn't want to wake you up to tell you that you didn't have to wake up." Me (mumbled as walking away): "But I've been up for an hour trying to stop myself from falling back asleep."
6:49--Turns on TV in front room. Must see for self.
6:52--School's name flashed with the word "closed" next to it. Does silent victory dance. Gets drink, returns to bedroom. Puts pajamas back on.
6:55--Due to reaction to the words "Snow Day" embedded in every person on their first day of kindergarten, is too excited to go back to sleep. Looks out window, sees snow actually beginning.
7:00--Fact that I had been up all night wins out over snow day adrenaline phenomenon. Passes out. Is awakened several times by siblings, but even when awake, refuses to leave bed until 13:00.

So, yeah. All times are approximate, but still. And I think I changed tense/subject conjugation in that like three times. Oops.

And then I went outside. And took pictures. Thus being my possession of random Valentine's Day presents of joy. In a way.

(Edit: They're bigger than I thought--I trimmed them down, but evidently not enough--so watch out.)
Las PhotografĂ­as )
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
The girl that plays Lucy Diamond on D.E.B.S is crazy hot. I'd hit that so fast you wouldn't even know I'd ever been anywhere but her bed. /randomuptoolatecomment. Looks rather like Danica Patrick, IMO. I didn't think it was going to be an amazing movie; it started out a little weak, but I ended up thinking that it wasn't bad. Mostly because of the Jordana Brewster hotness. (Did I really just find a picture of her with her arm around Eliza Dushku? That much hot in one picture should be illegal.)

"If You Hadn't But You Did" is a funny song. Especially when done by the Cheno. I want to be a backup violist for her. For anybody, really. T'would be cool. Get to reherse with good singing type people.

That Chinese girl on Studio 60 played the viola, and I was like "Yay." Though I understand all the "Why viola and not violin" stuff. The viola'd need to be 21 inches to be right for the wavelength of the sound that comes out to resonate right for its specific (lower) range, and "full-size" (though there isn't really a full size, it's considered more or less such) is 16 inches. So it's harder (read: more expensive) to get a good sounding viola (because you can get a really nice sounding one without it being 21", seeing as how nobody could play that, but it'd have to be a high end thing, while good violins are comparably really cheap). But she's totally right about there being a shortage of good viola players. That's why all these violin players end up playing viola, because they can't get a seat in whatever orchestra on violin because there are 600 people auditioning on violin, but there are only say 150 for viola (though the section is smaller) so you've got a better chance. I did the opposite, though. Got fed up with the crappyness that is the viola part in almost everything and taught myself to play the violin, cello, and string bass.


Enterprise episode "Stigma" doesn't suck as badly as I thought. I knew the story but missed the episode when it aired, and I figured it was going to be bad because it was the requisite AIDS episode, but it isn't horrible. I'm only about half way through, though. I do understand where the people that thought it was a cop-out are coming from, but it hasn't seemed horrible. Better than nothing, IMO. The fact that they didn't then mention that T'Pol had this progressively fatal disease for 3 more years then was pretty bad, though. (But when they did resolve it? There was much Vulcan gay in that. T'Pau was such a lesbian.)

It is making me giggle how mind melding is a metaphor for gay sex (and was treated as such back then). Because if you think about how many Vulcan mind melds there have been over the course of the many years of Star Trek and replace each instance with gay sex, it's rather entertaining. Makes a couple of my pairings explicit canon.

Line. (Paraphrased)
(random chick) Feezal: I'm a woman; that's all that matters, right?
Trip: Urm, I've got to go. (Like "Well, it does sort of matter in the fact that I dig the guys, but I'm not going to tell you this so to defuse a potentially awkward and outing situation, bye.")
Trip then goes and talks with Malcolm. Some random talk, and then:
Malcolm: You haven't given her any reason to believe . . .
Believe what? That Trip is interested in her, or that Trip is straight? It is the homosexuality/AIDS allegory episode.

Yay Trip/Malcolm. I only really started picking up on all of the Trip/Malcolm recently, as the first time through I was a bit Trip/Archer and majorly zooming in on anything Hoshi/T'Pol. 'Tis loads of gay in that there show if you know where to look.


Man, I missed Hugh on that late night show (I always get them all mixed up, Jay Leno I think it was). I thought it started 30 minutes later than it actually did, so I missed the first half. Curses.

I'm working at the voting thing (not the real voting, unfortunately, but volunteering at the fake voting for kids) tomorrow, so I'm missing all my classes. Bad, however, in that I got nothing done tonight and if I'm going to be working all day tomorrow, I'm not going to have time to get stuff done during classes like I would normally do (as we do nothing in any of them) and I've got to leave for minimed at 5 after (unless I can bum a ride home) only getting home at about 4:50 after liberal union, so no time there. Going to be up pretty late Tuesday night, it's looking, if I want to get anything done. Probably will be up late and still get nothing done, though.

My joints have been giving me hell today because it's all rainy. Bad.

There's a major eyefucking bit in the Enterprise episode "Vanishing Point" between Hoshi and T'Pol that made me happy. Okay, so T'Pol can't so much see Hoshi, but Hoshi can see her and is still staring her in the eyes for a long time. Like 30 seconds. I've got to figure out how to rip that from the DVD to make it into an icon. My brother has to return the DVD tomorrow, though, so I'll have to figure it out and then remember to get the episode again so I can do it.

My dog is moaning. This stupid whine-moan. It's annoying. It's because he wants me to play with him, and I would except for it's 12:20 am and he's big and therefore loud when he stomps around the floor right above where my father is sleeping. But I feel bad for not playing with him. If he just wanted me to pet him, that would be okay, but when I tried to he started jumping around and thrashing his tail and it took a really long time for him to calm down.

*goes back to finish watching "Stigma"*
commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
So. That math test that I predicted I could get no more than a C- on? 71%. C- exactly. I'm so pissed. Because not only did she not let me study after springing the test on me with no warning (and I get these things really fast, it would have taken me two minutes and I would have remembered the formulas for 15 points worth of questions, bringing me up to an 86%) but I realized that I had one of the formulas wrong completely in my head; like I thought I had it right (though I realized that it didn't make sense, I was almost positive that was what was in my notes) but I didn't.

I took two quizzes and a test with these formulas wrong, and since I didn't get the first quiz back before I took the test or either of those back before I took the second quiz, I had no idea I was doing it wrong. Got the test back today right after I finished the second quiz (which was actually from a while ago that I didn't know I and several other people had missed) and realized that I majorly fucked them all up. I had copied all the formulas onto a different sheet of paper to get them all from different pages in my notes onto the same place, and copied that one (which was needed on somewhere from 3 to 6 different problems on each of the test and two quizzes) down wrong. And pretty much majorly wrong, as I substituted an 'X' for the 'U' and the 'U' for a '1', so I had two variables, which didn't make sense at all, but that was all I could come up with. I knew the U was the variable, but I couldn't figure out where I got the X from. That, and I hadn't studied the formulas that I knew I didn't know for the quiz because I figured she already screwed me over on the test and there was no point, as I had no idea there was going to be a quiz.

Don't you think that the point of quizzes is to figure out what you're doing wrong before the test?

So pretty much I'm now stuck with a C for semester no matter what I do.

And it's stupid stuff. I'm good at math. She docks points for stupid shit. Like missing all the points of a problem for things that other teachers would take off one or one-half for. I can figure out ways to do things when I can't remember the way we were taught to do them (or, in this teacher's case, not taught). Did that on this test, got the answer for the problem completely right, but got no credit because evidently she wanted it done a different way. I have no idea what that different way was. You know, sometimes you remember something being talked about, know you should know it, but don't remember? I didn't recognize this at all.

So yeah. I was really angry. I've got no idea what I've got in there right now, but it's probably close to a D+ because the test and quizzes are pretty much all we've got on there and the quizzes were almost completely based on those formulas.

Got an 83% on the last bio test because we were doing the same unit in chemistry and they sort of contradict each other and evidently I went too in depth with my answers. How do you go too in depth? And I didn't know we had to do anything in our lab manuals and so when he told us to put them on the table so we didn't have to carry them around, I figured that that was the reason we were putting them there, not to be graded. Got a zero on that. Still haven't handed in that history thing because I keep forgetting and even when I don't forget, I've got this craziness that I'd rather never remind the teacher that I haven't yet turned it in/made it up/whatever and take a zero than remind them for points, but have to face them when I hand it in late. Which is bad. Haven't done my math homework in a while, got a Bio test tomorrow that I've not studied for (and don't really plan to), English test tomorrow over two short stories that I don't even have copies of because I wasn't there when they handed them out, and nowhere to go at lunch because the teacher that I usually hang out with isn't going to be there. I'm getting farther and farther behind while I'm waiting for this random wave of really bad depression to pass, which is making me even more depressed.

And then I was telling this to Katie and she gave me a hug and I managed to start sobbing my arse off in her arms in the middle of theatre class because everything has just been so fucked up for me in the past months and I'm pretty much to the point where I can't take it anymore.

Yeah. That's my story.

Edit: And I think my dog is outside playing with a rat. Eww. Lovely.

December 2014

S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
212223242526 27
28293031   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 18th, 2017 06:46 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios