Things Are Suddenly Better...

And yet they're worse.

Things are much better with my flatmates! They're not so passive aggressive anymore. I spent all day in the library, working on a paper that's due a lot later than any of my other papers. Turns out my Visual Representations of the Holocaust Paper is due next week. Get my research on!

MY FINALS SCHEDULE

8 Dec: Visual Representations of the Holocaust (2:30)
14 Dec - Islam and Modernity (2:00)
17 Dec - Religion 1A (2:00)

MY ESSAY SCHEDULE
1 Nov - Visual Representations of the Holocaust
9 Nov - Islam and Modernity
15 Nov - Religion 1A

My prompt for my Holocaust paper is "How the Tea Party Uses Holcaust Imagery--and how it was wrong"

...

It's really upsetting.

I'm watching a documentary.

It's REALLY UPSETTING.

Oy.

Drama on the Callie Front

I hate passive aggression.

I know that I'm passive aggressive sometimes. It's completely understandable. You don't want to be a shit-disturber. You want to be nice. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

There is a flaw in that.

By being passive aggressive--not inviting someone out, not telling them when "girl's nights in" are, you are hurting them. When you scribble pointed notes on the community whiteboard that say SOMEONE left the freezer door open and ALL OF MY FOOD got ruined, how INCONSIDERATE OF WHOEVER LEFT THE FREEZER DOOR OPEN, you're hurting them. What they don't seem to realize is that if someone is bothering you, you're supposed to tell that person to fuck off. Not insinuate it though your tone and the way they look at you and--agh, they're just so CONDESCENDING.

I'm at the point where I want to move out of this building. Hell, I want to go HOME. To AMERICA. Where people are FRIENDLY AND DECENT.

I JUST WANT TO BITE SOMEONE IN THE FACE.

Liz came over the other night, and we were forced to go into my room. I broke down and sobbed in her lap, just because I felt so freaking alone. I'm hesitant to go into the kitchen and get myself a meal. I feel like a guest in what's supposed to be my home.

EDIT:

They seemed nicer this evening. Aki didn't have a problem but the Glaswegian looked at me with JUDGING EYES. Rachel's just older. Apparently I'm supposed to dress up like Bubbles from the Powerpuff Girls with them. We made that deal back when I wasn't afraid to engage them.

California Looooove

Last night, I was determined to feel better. I was still feeling like crap when Jan came over. I was feeling a little less crap when James and Friend came over. Three of us are Californian. I finally felt at home.

James opened the fridge at one point and said "Your FRIDGE, Callie! It's so HEALTHY!"

We did California things, listened to California Music, and watched California videos. A not so California video was Song of the South, from which we watched the "Tar Baby" segment. Cue the Americans in the room (including Dillon--who is in fact from South Carolina) being horrified, looking away, and the Europeans going "I don't get why it's racist. It's talking animals."

"Uncle Remus is a happy slave!" says I.

"It takes place after the end of slavery!" says Rory.

"Well he's a happy SHARECROPPER!" Dillon says, in the corner, not making eye contact with anyone.

Oh my goodness, it was fun.

For the first time--I felt BETTER. Actually better. My awareness, my head, my sinuses felt all clear. It was a Christmas miracle! Tonight I think I'll rest (...unnnlikely, I'm probably going to rest all day, though). Now, to make a grilled cheese sandwich and revel in my recovery.

Gobblin' Pills like Breath Mints

So Day Five, and I'm not feeling any better.

I'm convinced it's sinusitis. Last night, my nose felt like it was being squeezed, and my ears made a "reeeeEEEEEEEEEE" noise every couple of minutes. Such are the trials of being unable to do meth take sudafed--there is literally nothing I can do about this. Of course, I'm being melodramatic. But, hey, when you feel as crap as I do, why WOULDN'T you.

I find my symptoms disappear if I'm with people, socializing, getting my book signed by SIMON MOTHEREFFIN PEGG.

That's right. Simon Mothereffin' Pegg.

Dillon alerted me to the fact that he would be signing books at the UK's equivalent of Borders, and of course, I NEEDED to go. I still felt like crap, but I soldiered through it. The fact that I would be meeting Simon Pegg motivated me. I got to the bookstore, where there was already a line. I plopped myself down and started reading. My love for him grows. He was a drama nerd. He loves Star Wars. The high point of his life was when he got to meet Leonard Nimoy.

I finally got to meet him, and what do I say?

"I LIKE YOUR HAT."

We continued to have a conversation about the Little Mermaid for some reason, and he told me to post pictures on his facebook wall of me and the Statue. He told me I had a pretty name. EEEEEE.

Last night, I had a "Girl's night out" with Dillon, Liz, and Catherine. Still feeling pretty crap, but I had a lot of fun. I got ACTUAL SAAG PANEER you guys. It was my crowning moment.

I got back to find a shortbread cookie with my flatmate Aki's handwritten note, saying "EAT ME." MAybe things are looking up?

It's really, really, really cold.

I need therapy...

I finally went to the doctor's today, after getting really dizzy when I got up. I was a mess--I didn't go to class, I forgot my phone, all so I could figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

When the doctor finally saw me, he told me what every hypochondriac dreads hearing.

"There's nothing wrong with you."

But. But.

"Everything looks fine."

He gave me advice to rest and drink a lot of fluids--saying it's probably "a virus"

Excuse my language.

FUCK.

On Being Ill in Scotland

It sucks. Did I mention how much it sucks?

What sucks even more than the obvious suckitude is that I don't know what this illness is. I don't have a stuffy nose NOR does it run; it can't be a cold. I don't have stomach problems, nor backaches, nor leg aches, nor any other kind of ache. No headaches, even. I'm dizzy and lightheaded. My ears hurt sometimes. My sinuses hurt sometimes. But not all the time. If it was an ear infection, I would have trouble hearing. If it was a sinus infection, I would have actual problems with my sinuses.

I call my mother and tell her about my symptoms, and she says it's a "virus".

What kind of virus? Herpes virus? Flu virus? AIDS virus? Tumor virus?

After class today, I went to the doctor to try and register/see someone about my problem. Of course, since I'm only here until December, they suggested I go to the pharmacy because they were so busy that day. Sidenote: when there is literally NOBODY WAITING IN THE WAITING ROOM, I have a hard time believing you're up to your eyeballs in sick people. So I go down to the pharmacist, I describe my symptoms, and she gives me Sudafed. I can't take Sudafed. It's a vasoconstrictor. If I take it, my brain will go squish and I'll have another stroke. Lovely.

I go to the bus stop, still dizzy, still lightheaded, but this time burning with bloodlust. I think, what would Jesus do?

He'd go and turn their asses into piles of salt, that's what He'd do.

So I go back and say "I NEED TO SEE SOMEONE, LIKE RICHT NOW." Of course, being so busy, the soonest they can see me is tomorrow at 11 AM. Better than next week, which is what I was previously told. I take the card begrudgingly and then take the bus (with a renewed bus pass--woo) to the New College, where i sit now, fueled by rage and fear.

Being a hypochondriac is awful. I always expect the worst of my illnesses. I think I have MS or a brain tumor or AIDS or meningitis whenever I have a three second headache. When I'm sore from capoeira, I think I'm dying. I get a tummyache and think it's an ulcer. I constantly have to bite my right finger just to make sure I have appropriate sensation. I freak out ALL THE TIME, even though most of my problems are in my head, It sucks to be constantly paranoid, and not be able to see a doctor right away.

Oh, that's another thing I hate about this country. Back at Scripps, you could just pop over to the Health Center, wait a little while, and see a doctor right away. That put me so much at ease. Here, even if you trek all the way to the Health Center, you have to have an appointment. Oh, and another thing, they don't do walk ins for Temporary students. ASDGSFAFDGVV

59 Days Left. You can tell I'm enjoying Scotland when I have to constantly keep reminding myself of that.

I know I should be looking forward to the months ahead, of Halloween and visiting Vickay and going home and seeing the Barely Legal Coed and GOING TO SEE LADY GAGA IN CONCERT and singing with the Hooligans...but I CAN'T BE EXCITED if I'm worried I'm going to be catastrophically ill.

I think I'm skipping class again. I can't do this.