I went to the doctor today. I do have a mild case of Marfan Syndrome (but don’t fret too soon…it’s highly unlikely that I will die from it) but I did test negative for RA and Lupus.

On the other hand, I do have fibromyalgia. Pretty much, my brain tells me to be in pain even though there’s nothing wrong with that particular body part. I may have it all my life or I may go into remission during certain periods of time. There is no treatment and there is no cure, so pretty much I’m screwed.

I don’t know what to feel about it honestly, but at least my trip to St. John’s School of Law got my mind off of it for a while.

The world’s gone mad.
As the last ember crashes down,
And the stars have begun to fade away.
And I am just a waste of youth,
Something that lost promise before it began.

And I sit like a flat tire,
waiting to rot.
And the world has begun to fade out.
And it is once again morning.

And who shall give me roses?
And what shall I wear?
Will I be remembered,
Or just sadly ignored?

Am I losing my grip on the world?
Or is the world spinning me off,
An ephemeral spinning like the wheels
of my childhood bicycle
As everything crashes
And the hill is too steep?

What shall I become?

Who shall I become?
Who shall I say hello to?
Should I be by her side?
This isn’t fair,
But than again what is today?

So, I have Marfan Syndrome. It isn’t dangerous at all, basically it means that my connective tissue is weak, thus causing me to be tall, thin, and flexible. My brother has it too. Ha, as a side note, my doctor is Dracula. He is old with slick black hair, pronounced canines, and an Eastern European accent. The weirdest part was being almost-naked, having all my bones poked and prodded at. I have to go back on Thursday to get my results. And that damn nurse from Quest in Rye Brook missed twice trying to draw out blood.

I got a B+ on my American Places I midterm. Hooray for me.

I wonder if I hurt my ovary again. Seriously, last night, I thought I was going to die. There was a period of time where I was in such absolute and utter pain that I actually couldn’t speak or move. If I have to go to the Emergency Room one more time, I will scream. Let’s see: I can hydrate myself and rest without paying $75 a pop and risking being labelled “uninsurable”. I think I may have popped a cyst because it was about two inches below and one inch to the right of my navel. That would be the approximate area, right? It’s not my kidneys (too high) or my bladder (too low), so what would it be?

I could really go for some wine right about now. Maybe with a Brie and Bacon sandiwch.

I hope Rich does well on Saturday and Thursday. He’s going to be such a good lawyer; I know it. Either way, I’ll be proud of him. I’m so happy to have him, and when I get to introduce him to others as “the f word”, I get so giddy. I’ll love him for ever, I swear it.

My dad is now a member of the Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Society. Like that doesn’t put me in a totally cultural crisis.

As a side note, please pray for Father Andy (my local pastor). He has prostate cancer.

This library is so depressing. At least two familar faces walked by, E and the Cute Girl. E was on a mission, and the Cute Girl is with a study group.

“And she slurs, ‘no no, just one more’, and one turns in to four. And the fourth drink instict is taking over and the gentleman is leading her towards the door…”

I finished my History of Mexico paper. Now it’s all smooth sailing for now.

Hope everything is well. I’ll write again when I actually get five minutes of space to breathe (I am sick and behind on work), which may not be until next week.

Let’s start with this simple sound: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH*headdesk*HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Yeah, that’s about how I feel right now. So lemme give you a rundown of my day thus far:

9:00 a.m. –> get up, get dressed, go to Prof. Bowling’s office to register for classes. Now you have to realize that almost ALL classes are closed by this point, including many of the 3000 level history classes. So now I go and register on paper and get signatures.

10:00 a.m. –> go to the Registrar. The Registrar’s mindfuck assistant (who in my opinion, can burn in Hell and be eaten by mutant dogs) is so nice as to inform me that I can’t register until TOMORROW AFTERNOON. Okay, why, you may ask? Oh, because that’s right: I’m a second-time ’round sophomore. Turns out that: a) the little French course I was FORCED to withdrawl from (and also in which Dean Lincoln promised me there would be no reprecussions whatsoever) gives me below 30 credits. b) Apparently Mville doesn’t give credits to those who get below a C (even if it’s not for major credit), so my D+ and $320 I spent in tuition for Art History was a waste. That’s nice.

So anyways, this bitch of a secretary tells me to come back tomorrow afternoon. Yeah, nice. I have a very important meeting with a rheumatologist tomorrow who’s an hour away from Mville. That doesn’t work for me. So, I very politely ask her if I can come in before 3:00 to register since there is no possible way for me to be there at said time. Her response was something along the line of “the world is not based on need”. Oh really? So welfare is doled out on a first-come, first-served basis? Well, actually at Mville it is. If you do not know, I could not get aid because I was “not poor enough” (although tuition would have been half of my family’s salary) yet males and International Students practically go here for free. And I thought we promoted social awarness? Turns out we promote discrimination.

Anyway, the majority of these classes are full already, especially since they cut the lecture system (history classes can only now have 20 students at most). I’m sorry, but I need to take a million history courses. I’m a major. It should be who NEEDS said courses. Oh wait, society isn’t based on need.

I mean, I tolerate the bad foodservice, the cold showers, the no heat, the poor faculty, and whatnot. But this is the last straw. Berman had two almost unanimous votes of no confidence by the faculty in two months, yet he told The Journal News that he is not he is not going to resign. Maybe it’s time the students overthrow the college again.

Okay, so WebMd has rattled my brain again in unspeakable ways. This woman wrote an article called “8 Things No One Tells You About Marriage”. And I agree with some of them: You Can Only Change Yourself, You May Go to Bed Angry, etc. But really, now I have some pet peeves with this.

#4 – You Will Go Without Sex, Sometimes for a Long Time…

Alright, now fine, I’ve heard that sex totally dies during marriage, but a lot of me believes that it’s not true. Sure, sex may die for a short period of time (i.e. the first six months after childbirth) but I doubt it dies completely. And in my heart of hearts, I don’t think it has to die. Usually here’s what happens: man and woman first start dating, marriage  happens, explosive honeymoon, woman finds herself pregnant (and yes, that means no vaginal sex for about five months, boys!), baby comes home and sucks up all of mumsie’s attention, man craves sex, woman says “no”, man says “what about doing this that I found out of unnamed men’s book/magazine/television show?”, woman replies with “no, that’s gross”, man rolls over unhappy (poor man). Eighteen years later, here’s how the scenario plays out: woman tackles man, man tries to get it up, man fails, woman looks on with dissapointment, man says “can I do Item X that I found under the ‘How to Please a Woman’ section of my unamed men’s book/magazine/television show?”, woman replies “whatever”, both roll over unhappy.

I don’t think there really needs to be a lack of sex in a relationship. In a recent WebMd poll, 36% of women have sex with their signifigant others less than twice a month, 22% of women have it weekly, and 42% of women have it more than twice a week. That’s a large amount of time for the 36% to be abstinent. And we wonder why infidelity is so high.

Americans (and most Westerners) tend to have very Victorian outlooks on sex. Most circumsiscions in the United States are unnessecary. There is no proof that circumscision prevents infection whatsoever (unless the area between the glans and the foreskin has been unwashed), and actually that was not the main reason for circumscision. The main reason was to prevent masturbation in boys. And we still follow that method? Guys, these were the same people that hosed women down to prevent them from becoming hysterical, yet banned the speculum due to its phallic nature. Really. Anywho, back to the point. Try new stuff. Talk about sex. So you won’t be a #4.

#1 – You will look at the person next to you and wonder: is this it? Forever?

Now, you might think that this section was about insecurities. Ha, I did too. No it’s about how you may find that you are not entirely happy with the one you’re with. His penis is too small. He never takes out the trash. He is a good for nothing, sonofabitch mindfuck who watches ESPN 20 hours a day. Now I doubt that any of that is true. But Ylonda Gault Caviness (whom I believe is a totally made-up author) believes so, although she later notes that “a lifetime of experience has taught me that I am right about most things”. I’ve dated a lawyer for the past eight months, and even he doesn’t have the nerve (or stupidity) to publish a statement like that.

And yeah, maybe your marriage isn’t perfect. Maybe he does work too much. Maybe he does spend too much time on eBay buying fire truck parts (sorry dad, I had to call you out for that). But I highly doubt that you’re perfect either. Everyone has their few flaws, but compromising about them is part of marriage. A large part of marriage.

That’s the problem with people these days: they expect perfect. I come from a family where marriage isn’t something perfect. Both my grandmothers eloped, but they are still in love with the men they married. Yeah, my parents have seen the roughest of roughest times, but they are still happy (although guys: really, we don’t have walls. Remember that). There have been few divorces in my family, and those that happened were for reasons far beyond “irreconcilable differences”. Maybe if we stopped expecting perfect, we would be richer for the experience.