Here are some things:

Good things about hospital

1. Pre-med … This is what they inject you with before the actual anasthetic. It makes you feel all calm and floaty, like you’re  in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by tiny little seahorses.
2. Being pushed around … I mean by the wardies, when they have to wheel you from one place to the next on your trolley bed.
3. Having trained professionals take care of you … it’s not annoying that you get woken up every few hours for them to check your temperature, heart rate & blood pressure – it’s reassuring.

Bad things about hospital

1. The racist woman sitting next to me in the ward … she was there for her husband. She kept making comments about the cranky old c**ts whenever anyone who wasn’t caucasian walked past, and then proceeded to complain that the entire hospital was being run by foreigners. She worried over me, and opined that I was too young to be in hospital all on my own. She said, “You don’t look a day over 19!”. That explains a lot…
2. Boredom … I was in the 23 hour unit. There wasn’t anything to do. I couldn’t sleep because of the pain and had nothing to take my mind off it.
3. Mixed wards … This doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. The problem was that I was surrounded by old men who snored loudly all night. And also the fact that I was the only girl there, apart from the nurses. The next day in the recovery room, one of the old men said to me “Your dance card must be full eh?” and I’m not even sure of what that means.

Other things about hospital

1. The doctor has to sign the part of the body he is going to operate on … I think so he acknowledges he’s read the reports and knows what he’s doing. Firstly, a couple of the reports in my file said I was having surgery on my right arm, when it’s my left that has the breaks. You would not believe how long it takes to get something like that fixed up.
2. You would be surprised at who is afraid of blood … When the nurse disconnected the aline drip from the cannula in my hand, she forgot to put a plug screw into one of the tubes. Consequently, blood leaked out of the tube and dripped onto my blankets and clothes. The tuff looking guy in the bed next to mine went pale and had to look away.
3. Injuries come in twos … The tuff looking guy had a similar injury to me – except that he only fractured his radius (distal fracture though) whereas I fractured the radius and the ulna. Anyway, we both had to have metal plates etc. Also the husband of the racist woman had broken his eye socket and had a displaced jawbone, from falling face-first from a truck. There was another kid who had broken his eye socket and had a displaced jawbone from being hit in the face with a golf ball. I’m sure there were more, but I did’t hear about them.
Anyways, no rest for the wicked (see? that’s me admitting I’m wicked.) The drugs have worn off yet again and I’m trying to create a greater gap between the taking of them (I don’t want to become dependent on nurofen plus…). I have to go make dinner. kudos Ro for cutting up the chicken.

Here is a site that has been keeping me entertained…

http://www.nobodyhere.com/justme/me.here

Kudos Noe for the link

I used to have explanations for things just waiting in the wings, and I used to think that these were true: “Bad things happen in threes” “if something happens once, it will surely never happen again. But if it happens twice, it will most likely occur a third time”. But  now I think… that’s too simplistic. The world doesn’t revolve around individual people’s perception of how things happen, or why…. The world just is. Things happen neither bad nor good, they just are. It’s our perception that makes them positive or negative.

This might be an obvious conclusion to reach. I’m not going to apply abstract reasoning to an unconnected series of random events. It just makes life more complicated. I felt like I was being covered in layer upon layer of unfortunateness, like each thing that happened was a blanket being pulled over my head, slowly blinding and suffocating me. But I’m thinking like I should just let things happen, as they’re going to happen anyway. I’ll sit back, let the waves come in until they cover my head and I drown.

Wait… that was the opposite of what I was trying to say…

It reminds of that poem that I love by T.S. Eliot. I think it’s the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and other stories… My favourite part:

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
It’s so beautiful. So morose, so quietly melancholy. Also melodramatic if taken out of context. (out of context means out of the rest of the poem and inserted into a blog, like i just did. that makes me melodramatic).

So what. I’m sad. Poor DeeDee.

I saved these postsecrets because this is how i feel and i like that people will say good things about life, that secrets can be good (not just embarrassing or sad or hurtful). but then why are they secrets? because you have to hide some of the good so that there is some left for your dark days and you remember…

i think i am an incurable dork.

i think i overuse the quixotic mood, but then again i’m feeling it so why shouldn’t i choose it?

ayup, im a dork.

Here are some things that are difficult to do with a broken arm:

Type at a reasonable speed
Sleep
sharpen a pencil
do up buttons
put on a necklace
wash your hair
unlock the computer
fend off zombie attacks from unsympathetic younger sisters
make your bed
hang out the washing
do the dishes
tie your shoelaces
rummage through your bag for something
prepare food / cook
open your wallet / purse
staple a bunch of papers together
give someone a hug
feed animals
hug animals
carry things

wahwahwah.

Mashed ants is the worst smell in the world. Worse still than wet dog, B.O., walking home past all the garbage bins night before garbage day, that smell in balmoral down near the river that lauren and i never figured out what it was, the grease trap in the valley near cash converters, the grates in berlin, the water in venice… eugh. the world is so dirty. tonight when rosie and i were walking home from the vet some car drove past and its exhaust smelled like the public toilets at southbank piazza after a xavier rudd concert (god if he didn’t shit the whole crowd to tears…)

anyway. i hate typing like this

Noe and I had a picnic today at Roma St Parklands. It was so beautiful. The wind was blowing a gale but the sun was so nice and warm. We sat on the grassy section just down from the cafe and watched things happen around us. There was a father and son and daughter playing frisbee, and the son kept throwing it near some other people who were sitting just a bit further away from them. We thought each time that the frisbee was going to hit the people, but it never did. We had a sleep in the sun and then headed back to civilisation.

The coloured train that snakes its way around the parkland on the pathways.

the sky

some ducks

One duck that I followed around near the fountains.

Dumb ibis. It understood Noelle’s threat when she picked up her shoe, and hurried off to annoy someone else. They always try to look so innocent, but they’re sneaky.

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On the way home I found two new notes from the Bus Stop Man, this time on green paper. They said “thonk you Jesus” (there was no way the ‘o’ could have possibly been an ‘a’), and “Are you saved?”. There’s some evangelical kid wandering around leaving these notes like they’re on a mission from god, I’m sure of it. The writing is too young not to be. Or else it’s just a really immature adult.. Someone who doesn’t fully understand the workings of the world. Not that anyone actually does, but you know, less so than most other people who manage to function well in the universe.Even though I had a nap today, and slept in later than I meant to this morning, I am still tired because I stayed up so late last night. I didn’t want to go to bed because I was cleaning and organising, and I was really enjoying it. But today, when I was trying to find something, I sliced my finger on the blade that’s in my drawer, because I put it away there last night and I forgot that I’d done that. So my finger wouldn’t stop bleeding (it has now) and I couldn’t do anything with it. It doesn’t hurt too much… not at all really. I’m having trouble typing, but that’s only because of the bandaid. I hate bandaids, they’re so grotty. Even when you first put them on they’re gross.I had spoken to mum previously about how sore my back has been lately (moreso than usual) and I thought that she told me not to worry about it, so I haven’t really been worried, I’ve more been just putting up with the pain or doing things to make sure I don’t make it worse than it already is. But tonight I asked her again and she said, “I’ve already spoken to you about this, and I told you to go to the doctor about it.” So now I’m confused. Did I just make up that whole conversation where she told me not to worry about it, just to ease my mind? I can’t afford to go to the doctor, but also this cough is annoying me too. So I could kill two birds with one stone by going this week. And maybe I could even kill three birds with one stone – if I can afford to get my second hepatitis immunisation that would be good also, because I’m supposed to have it a month after the first and I had the first on the 26 April. I also have to get tetanus, polio & MMR vaccines because we have no booster records for me. The only medical records I have from when I was younger are my x-rays. I have x-rays coming out of my ears, but none of that is of any use to me.

Noelle said that if drastic action isn’t taken, we’re going to run out of water by 2008. Dams are already at less than 5 percent capacity. That seems crazy. The dried out, barren look of everything makes me feel a little forlorn.

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Something from overseas…

Me in a black cab in London on Australia Day 2006. I was pretty drunk, and psyched to be there, but slightly surprised when Lauren confronted me with the camera and reacted by retreating into my coat 6_6. It was an awesome night. We went to a walkabout and everyone was wearing straw fosters hats and thongs. We didn’t look very Australian compared to the locals

I cleaned out my cupboard tonight, and amongst my old bank statements I had filed away I found an acrostic poem that Lauren wrote for me…

C is for Cassie, that is your name
A is for angry man, your eternal flame (not)*
S is for social club, the discounts you get
S is for Sally, whom we’ll never forget
I is for Inuit Throat Song, that beautiful sound
E is for every animal you’ve brought home from the pound.

*That won’t make sense unless you know who angry man is. And I’m not saying. It might have been relevant last year but no longer means anything.

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I found what I have been looking for for ages. It’s not the same as I remember it. Leslie Nielsen is so matter-of-fact in the delivery of his lines that it seemed funnier. Now it just looks incendiary.President Harris: [to the U.N] So, an Indian, a Frenchman, and the Pope are all on a plane. The pilot says “Hey, are any of you not circumcised?” So the Pope lifts up his robe and says “Shut up, stupid! You don’t even speak english!” The Israeli asks the Japanese guy to open his eyes, but the Japanese man says “I’m not squinting you crazy Jew, you’re the one who sold me these cheap glasses!” What’s the difference between a Belgian and a lump of dog shit? The Belgian drinks wine, but the dog shit smells good.

I called tech support tonight. I said, “my internet is slow. I just upgraded to a faster plan and it’s going really slow. It’s only 254.4kbps.” He said “That sounds fine to me.”
Me: Are you kidding?
Him: No… (he sounds annoyed that I asked him if he was kidding.)
Me: Because my internet was going faster before I changed the plan. It should be going at like… at least 1mbps. At least.
Him: Well, it can depend on how many people are using the line, how you connect…
Me: It’s only me using it. I connect directly to the modem via network cable.
Him: Restart your modem and your computer (I was waiting for him to say this).
Me: Ok.

I turn around and mum is standing in my doorway and she’s talking to me. She says,
“You’re still wearing that top. You said I could wear it, but I can’t now because you’ve been wearing it all day.”
Me: (I cover the phone mouthpiece with my hand) What top? That wasn’t the top I was talking about.
Mum: Yeah, you said this morning.
Me: Yeah, it’s a different top.
Mum: Where is it?

Tech support guy butts in and says “Has your computer restarted yet?” I say, “Uh… yeah, I’m just logging in.”

I hold my hand up to mum to indicate 5 minutes, she sighs and walks off.

Tech guy: Does your internet automatically log in?
Me: Yeah. It’s logged in now.
Him: Ok. Check your bandwidth again. Oh wait… I can’t find your modem. Are you sure it’s connected?
Me: Yeeeeeesssss… Do you want me to do a ping?
Him: No…
Me: I’ll just open IE. It’s loading. I have to be connected.
Him: Oh yeah… there you are.
Me: Ok. now it’s 1.3mbps. That’s good.
Him: That’s good.
Me: Yeah.
Him: If this happens again, try restarting your modem and your computer. And (I could predict what he was going to say next) delete your cookies and internet files.
Me: Deleting cookies.
Him: And if that doesn’t help, give us a call.
Me: Ok. Thanks. Bye.

That’s how eager to procrastinate I am. I relayed an entire conversation with a tech support guy just so I don’t have to sort out my bills. And that took enough time for Medium to start, and I feel like watching it tonight so I will. That will please mum no end I’m sure.

It’s good to have a fever when it’s cold, because if you just wear summer pjs then you don’t feel hot at all. I felt better today when I got out of work and into the cold air. When I was sitting at my computer I felt like I was suffocating.

I’ma go watch Medium.