Oh My God I'm dying for a piece or three of cake. I love cake. Cake, Vicodin and Valium, that'd make a nice mind and soul numbing combination, one, both, or all three, but I'm not going to have them. As shitty as I've been feeling lately I have been sorely tempted though. I almost picked up the phone and called some of the people who's numbers I took from the meeting. Oh Lordy I want these cakes.
I'm watching a repeat of the season premiere of Six Feet Under that I missed. I so love this show. David and Keith are snuggling while his Mom is having sex with her new husband and Brenda and Nate are fucking again, right on! I don't know how actors do this without getting romantically involved. I has such a hard time keeping my boundaries straight when I had to do scene work with partners where the scenes we were working on involved passionate physical contact. I hate to say this because it seems sexist but I think it's easier for guys, maybe not.
Would someone kindly wave a feel better magic wand around the areas of my head, throat, neck and shoulders? Pretty please with fairy dust, magic sparkles, sugar and butter cream frosting?
I think I'm getting the hang of which entries feel safe to post publicly and the ones that don't. Basically anything where I'm leaving myself vulnerable and open to attack.
In the last post I was yakking about my ex-gynecologist, how I wasn't surprised to see her on TV again. She's always on TV, or in some magazine promoting her line of underwear or spa products. She has a spa, isn't that a laugh, a spa in a gynecologist's office? How Hollywood is that? I wonder what they do there, probably bikini waxes and vaginal massages.
I dropped her after she canceled another appointment. She never had time for us/me anymore, too busy promoting herself. I should have left after my miscarriage. I was hemorrhaging so I made an appointment to go in and it turned out I was having a miscarriage. Silly me, timing things like that. I should have known you can't fit a D&C into a fifteen minute appointment. She was so pointedly inconvenienced by me, so unsympathetic, rushed and hurtful, she probably had to reschedule a manicure or something. I know I'm sounding mean but if you'd been in my place you might feel like I do.
Ouch earache. Back to one; images of cake.