To fall off the face of the earth (and get vaguely graphic upon return)

This quarter has been the quarter I've been sick. This quarter has been the quarter where I have struggled, where I have been that girl. The one who skips class, who doesn't turn in assignments, who sleeps through classes because getting out of bed is just too much effort. The girl with a million excuses.

I have been sick, though. I started the quarter with an inner ear viral infection. I was dizzy, so dizzy I had to cling to the walls to walk and stick my arms out like planks to stay balanced.

I never really recovered from that. I've been exhausted all quarter. I went back to the student health center last week and was diagnosed with... another virus.

That one was a real charmer. I couldn't stand to have my clothes on, or at least, I couldn't stand having them touch me. I was nauseous and I had a very nice, rich cough. Just in time for homecoming and a dear friend and Jon to come into town.

I rested when I could, and then went out and acted like I wasn't ill the rest of the time. Then my tonsils, which have given me issues for YEARS, swelled up. Those of you who aren't intimately familiar with your tonsils, you are very, very lucky. I know when mine are angry. I know when mine are filled with gross crap. I know when mine are doing all right, simply because they aren't causing me any problems for once.

So my left tonsil swells up. And up. And up. It hurts to talk, and it hurts to swallow, and it just plain hurts. I tried to just recover on Monday, because I didn't have time to go to the doctor's. I'd caved to the concept of going to the doctor when I finally noticed the hole/blister on my left tonsil. My angry red swollen tonsil. With a blistery hole on it.

Yeah, just envision that for a moment.

Sorry.

So, I go back to the doctor. This is my third visit of the quarter, my third trip with prescription drugs, my first go-round on antibiotics this quarter. The CNP informed me that I either have strep, tonsillitis, or an upper respiratory infection. She prescribed a broad spectrum antibiotic (closely related to penicillin) and sent me on my merry way.

The antibiotic and the yogurt I ate disagreed. If you ever need to throw up in a public bathroom, attempt to have the presence of mind to cover up the motion sensor, or you'll get to experience what I experienced, which was a toilet flushing in my face while I puked into it. Even in the moment, I found it ridiculously funny. Partially because I never throw up.

Sorry, again.

It's the seventh week of the quarter and I'm just hoping that I finally start feeling healthy. Hoping that everything I've let fall by the side this quarter is something I can pick back up. Hoping that life gets a little bit better, because lately it has sucked (there is much more than just being ill going on in my life, which I'll write about eventually. Maybe. If life ever settles down enough for me to feel comfortable sharing.).

Unsolicited advice

Jon and I have been in a long distance relationship of the dating variety since December of 2007, and ever since we declared ourselves to be 'dating,' I've often found myself the receiver of a laundry list of advice. I've been told that my relationship is doomed for so many reasons, from the fact that we started out long distance (people magically ignore that we were friends for TWO YEARS before that) to the fact that he is my first boyfriend. I've been told that my relationship is doomed because of my behavior or because we struggle to agree to disagree.

I'm fed up. YES, I do tend to talk about my problems with Jon, but what relationship doesn't have flaws? You know WHY I talk about our issues, even when we are doing really well, having hit a groove I think most couples don't? Because of the damn naysayers. All the people who say we are doomed constantly push me to look at my relationship, to hold up all of the bad parts and go 'is this worth it?' and then I get told the same thing I was told before, forcing me to go back and go 'oh, hey, THIS is a problem, too.' This causes no end of stress for Jon and me, as I can suddenly lash out at him over something that was insignificant until, suddenly, it wasn't.

I'm getting better at letting these things roll off my back, at ignoring them or telling the person that is trying to impart their 'wisdom' on me that I'd rather not hear it, that I've heard this before, this is old news compadre. Some people are better at hearing this than others. I'm tempted to print up business cards, only something snarky, a reverse business card, to give to people when they do this:

"Hi! I don't need to put my name here, because, you know what, I'M JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! I feel an irrepressible urge to share my opinion with you, even if I don't know you that well! Don't want to hear it? TOO BAD! I have to tell you that you can't ever behave in selfish or immature manner, that YOU are a bad person for ever being mean to your significant other, that S/HE would not act a certain way if you didn't prompt the behavior. PS you are not a saint, and the only way to have a successful long term relationship is to date as many people as possible before settling down."

Too wordy?

The funny thing is that most people are supportive. People who weren't when they first got to know me are, because, if nothing else, they've seen how I get around Jon, how I relax. But I'm really tired of the unsolicited advice, especially the insistence that my relationship is 'doomed' because it is my first, because I'm having to learn some of this stuff as I go. It is so frustrating to have people tell me that I am going to fail, because 'so many' before me have failed. Not everyone fails, but I imagine that those that do aren't helped by their 'helpful' friends and their advice.

A wedding, a zombie after party, and an argument over the word 'bewildered'

One of my dearest friends, who now goes by Dr. Wife, got married last Friday. Dr. Wife got me through Chinese, and kindly reminded me that it is nearly impossible to fail that class after a near-epic failure of a final oral presentation. She's also amazingly funny, charming, and the type of person that you want around because she just manages to make things more fun.

Did I mention she and her husband decided that a post-wedding zombie party was the perfect way to celebrate?

The wedding was a little over a half-hour away from Jon's apartment, so we left with about 45 minutes until it was supposed to start. We had directions, we our zombie gear, we had everything we needed. What we didn't have, charmingly enough, was the knowledge that I-80 just off of I-76 is currently being repaired. Neither did any of the other drivers on the road, including the 12 billion semis in front of us. The best part was that, over a mile away from the construction, traffic stopped. Dead. Completely. Oh, it inched forward, creeping along at a snail's pace, but I only had eyes for my dashboard clock. Eventually, the brake lights disappeared and traffic crept through the construction, resuming 'legal' speed with Jon and I assuming our hawk-eye positions the second the bright orange 'END CONSTRUCTION' sign came into view.

We got there literally seconds before the bridesmaids were supposed to start entering the chapel.

The service was beautiful. The bride was spectacular - when Jon and I rushed in, I stopped, dumb-founded to find my friend so gussied up and, honestly, drop-dead gorgeous. I'd never been to a wedding before, so I found myself wondering if I was supposed to say 'amen' or something else every time the moment came to say something. Fish out of water, my half-Jew self was.

We were supposed to party immediately following the nuptials, but ended up getting rained out. You can't have a proper zombie bash indoors, you know. At least, it is very expensive to have a zombie party indoors. All the smashed glass and blood really does a number on your homeowners insurance. So we made plans for the next day and eventually parted ways. For most of us, it was the first time we'd spent time together in a month or longer, so there was no rush to return back to our hotels and apartments.

The next day was significantly more successful, at least, the zombie party was. Once we got there. Jon maintains that we got 'slightly bewildered for a while' while I maintain that we got 'lost.' There was a detour with no follow up signs and it took us a little while to realize that the exit we needed was probably on the other side of the highway, and if we got back on it, we might manage to make it to the zombie party before the big next day reception. We did, albeit with a certain amount of... tension in the car. But we got there!

I ended up being a zombie farm girl, while Jon went with Billy Mays. Taste? What is this taste of which you speak? One of Dr. Wife's bridesmaids was Paula Abdul's career, and Dr. Wife's husband was Heath Ledger. Taste is for other people.

The rest of the day went beyond well. There was food and booze and games, the kind that you actually want to play (a card game called Fluxx was played a few times). I did not want the weekend to end, and am looking forward to the next big celebration that draws my friends together. There's something magical about weddings, something I'd have to be a much better writer to capture. So, I leave you with a video: