Doesn't make a lot of sense, does it?

Dear Asshole Drivers:

I wasn't a teenager that long ago. I know how exciting getting your license is. You can cruise around with your friends, you don't need a ride to the mall, hell, you can make out in the privacy of your own car. How exciting.

I also understand that it's very exciting being Away! At college! No more Mum or Dad telling you when to come home, to do your homework, to not drink so much that your stomach need to be pumped out... You're free!

So, really, it's very tempting to drive like complete douches while on your want back to your own little dorm and really, I know I'm a miserable adult who's just going tell you what to do and leave you alone, but listen...

Cars? Still huge and deadly. I can live with tailgating while you guys bounce in your car like epileptic chihuahuas (psst, people can see you and no matter how cool the song is, you look stupid). Yes, you need a car length to stop and no, the speed limit isn't the same as how fast the drums are in your song. It's 20mpg. 2-0. No, I am not going to speed up; I like my clean driving record.

But what really pissed me off was you trying to pass me on the left WHILE I WAS TURNING LEFT WITH MY BLINKER ON. I'm sorry it's a one way and there are cars parked on the other side so you couldn't get to your wretched little dorm party even faster. And no, it wasn't worth laughing when your car missed my (turning) car by mere inches. Let me clue you, those words I was saying? They weren't "Cheerio, chaps, mighty good show!"

Nor was it cute when you decided to wait, like I was going to drive up after you and I don't even know what... Maybe slam into your car? Start a fist fight? I save those for bars (which I am old enough to get into, thanks.) Congratulate you on your especially stupid driving?

Oh, and the people staring and gaping? A word to the wise, chickadees, we call those witnesses in the real world. If you'd hit me, they would have all told the nice police (those guys who break up your parties) that you were driving to endanger. That means you get a ticket, your insurance goes up, and I get a cash payout because you frakked up my car. Also: your parents will probably be pissed, since they'll end up paying for it.

And you wonder why people complain about teen drivers. Here's hoping you don't kill someone, cuntbags.

I registered for classes yesterday. It was an exercise in frustration, but I am now the proud attendee of 4 classes. I'm taking German II; Myth, Ritual, and Iconography; Chamber Singers; and Roman Civilization. I'm going every day, but Tuesdays and Thursdays will span Steven's class time. I'll hit the gym while he's in class and then go to my class while he's doing paperwork. Other than that, I'm at school till 4:20 on Mondays and Wednesdays and 2:20 on Fridays. It's a decent schedule.

I also am going to be switching my major during or at the end of this semester. I am going to major in Art. Like I wrote as a kindergartener, I am going to be an art teacher when I grow up. The English department cured me of wanting to graduate as an english major. I still need to go see the Department Chair, but that can be done some time later this week.

I finished the website today. It's officially totally live. The bulletion board is officially up and ready for people to register. The address is http://wedding.devilgrrl.com/board/. You don't have to be a member of the bridal party to join, so feel free. Right now, I just want some activity on there. Steven and I are the only two users, currently.

Bleh, almost time to go, it's snowing, and I have a headache.

I'm not returning to school this semester. I owe them $1600 and I can't register until I pay it off. Classes started today. I don't have the credit for credit based loans because of my ex. Even if I were to pay this off and go back, I'd owe another $1600 plus books for the semester. I sent an email to the head of advising, who might be able to help, but that's not likely, honestly.

I'm kind of depressed about the whole thing. We're going to have a talk about what we want to do and where we go from here when I feel a little better.

I should be doing my FAFSA. I don't feel like it at all. I'm super tired from the stupid painkillers, though. To avoid it, so far, I have played with Elliott, made myself lunch, knitted, and showered, not in any sort of order.

Now, instead of doing my FAFSA, I'm stealing surverys from lisbonlovesjacq. If I actually had ink, I might be more inclined to do things.

( KaYOINKED from lisbonlovesjacq )

So really, there are three parts to this update: the school part, the knee part, and the fish part.

Part I - In Which I Discover Higher Education is Full of Idiots

I think most people who read here know, I have been having some problems with Bridgewater. Right around Thanksgiving, I received a letter telling me that I needed to get several vaccines before I can register for classes. Most people who read here also know that I am allergic to latex, as well as a bunch of other things. This means no vaccines unless my life depends on it because of how they're manufactured, how they're stored, etc. I get a note from my doctor, which of course takes forever, but I get it it around the second week of December, when classes end/finals are.

Bridgewater dicks around and the hold doesn't get taken off until about the 6th. So yay, I go to register and find out that now, I must consult with my advisor before I can register. Great. The problem is, I have no idea who my advisor is. I make many more calls and eventually find out. I email her and wait more. After not getting a response from her by last Thursday, I call, bitch, and email the department chair, who gets the woman to respond to me. She wants me to come in randomly, I explain there's no way I can do this, since I'm on crutches and I had no car at that point. I suggest the next day, but she is allegedly going away for a few days. I reiterate that I need to get registered, I have a list of everything I need for the rest of my time at Bridgewater, etc. She insists we meet and suggests Monday, the holiday. I tell her fine, but I cannot get to her office (3rd floor, no elevator). She says she'll call and everything will be ok.

Cool. I email her the classes I want for this semester and wait for a call. The call never happens, so I figure she must have emailed me. She didn't do that either. I check the site to try and register and I still am blocked. That means when classes start Tuesday, I will not be able to attend because there's no where for me to go, nor can I just run around campus, randomly, trying to track people down.

Yesterday, I called the dean and bitched. They told me they weren't going to get involved, since it was only the first day of classes and I should call my department and leave a message. I do this. They never call back. I've called again today; no calls back. I have the feeling I'm going to miss the rest of this week. The only good thing is that I can call the dean Monday and then get them involved.

Part II - In Which My Knee Falls Apart

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the orthopaedist again for my knee. They had already bumped me up a couple weeks, so I had the feeling that things would be not so good. Anyhow, I spent the beginning of the visit telling him about the physical therapy, which I was very unimpressed about.

Within the first five minutes of being back there, the therapist had started talking about how nice I smelled, what kind of perfume did I wear, etc. I don't know if he meant to seem like he was hitting on me, but that's the impression I got. I'm there to get better, not to find a date. Worse yet was that I'd sit there and fiddle with my ring, hoping he'd get the hint. When he was talking about goals for therapy, I said I'd like to have full use of my knee back and be generally painfree. He countered with shouldn't I add personal care, like shaving my legs, as one of my top goals. Um, no?

The guy started pulling and twisting my knee, stretching it, and generally making it hurt, even though I told him I was not comfortable. After, when he decided to ice it, he put a bolster under my ankle and a 5lb ice pack on my knee to "force it straight". I was supposed to be there for ultrasonic therapy to reduce swelling.

You may wonder, then, why he was doing all this on the first day. Well, that's because he decided that the doctor's diagnosis wasn't good enough. He felt that my problem was not so much plica syndrome as subluxation of the kneecap and that he was going to treat it accordingly. Hence why I had all the massive pain and swelling, post-therapy. He was treating it the wrong way.

The doctor was pissed, to say the least. My knee is now in worse shape than it was before the therapy. More of the plica has slid out from under my knee and there's a lot more fluid/swelling of the joint. He made a last suggestion if I wanted a cortisone shot (no) and started talking about surgery to fix things. I will most likely be going in around the first week of March. It'll be done as outpatient surgery and I'll be home by the end of the day. I will be first on the list, as well, because of my latex allergy.

This is what I know so far. I will know more in the coming weeks. For now, here is some information on Plica Syndrome and arthroscopic surgery.

Part III - In Which the Day Just Gets Worse

We found Godzilla, our baby mollie, dead last night. We've had him since he was born in the tank, 5 months ago. It sort of ruined the rest of the night for both of us after we had to skim him out and flush him. All and all, it's been a crappy couple of days.

Evidenty, my SMTP server has been wonky all day. Wonky as in I've been sending things into the great abyss of the internet. So yea, but I think it's finally back online now. My apologies to anyone who gets 75 of the same email from me or something.

So what am I doing now that I've averted disasted and finished my magical term paper? Something no one on drugs should do: I am trying to paint my toenails over a cream coloured carpet. I've got nothing better to do right now, anyway.

In other exciting news, I found out yesterday that a good friend of mine from high school is going to be having a baby next month. It's so strange, I haven't seen her since 2001, right before Dawn got married. Wait, that's incorrect. I bumped into her 2 years ago in the food court of the Kingston Mall and was never able to get in touch with her because everything went to hell. I was able to send a note along with her aunt, though, so hopefully we'll be able to get back in touch.

I still can't picture her having a baby. So many people I've know have gotten married or had babies in the last couple years. One of the girls I graduated with is on her second already. I feel like a death row prisoner, watching all the inmates ahead of me go off to be executed. I keep wondering when the warden is going to come for me. I'm definitely not ready to have kids. I'm getting more comfortable with the idea of getting married.

I feel so blah.

I am convinced that I have the plague. Today, I developed a gross bruise rubbing my sore neck. I have one coming up on my arm where I whacked it trying to lock up the apartment this morning because the lights were out again. And today, I got a nosebleed in German. I think it must have made Herr Burke very happy.

I also stood in line for an hour to be told that no one knows where my financial aid money is. I really hate new computer systems. At least now I have a number I can call so I don't have to waste more of my life in line. I believe I can register for next semester's classes tomorrow, so here's hoping that will work.

Everything aches. I need to carve the chicken for dinner. Yay!