I'm eleven hundred and twenty years old! Just gimme a friggin' beer!

Anya ,'Storyteller'


Spike's Bitches 25 to Life  

[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.


Topic!Cindy - Aug 19, 2005 6:43:02 am PDT #7348 of 10001
What is even happening?

Oh, brenda. How awful. Yeeeesh. I just found myself imagining myself in your boss's situation. It involved never returning to my home, and having to get all new stuff. Ugh.

Dave caught a glimpse of my previous post, and now I think he left for work worried about me. I'm not sure he gets the whole depression/anxiety thing really. He is being very supportive, but he doesn't seem to understand why if I am smart enough and I have the time for it, why I am even worried about school at all.

There have been a couple of tricks that have worked for me to some extent, sj (I am fighting anxiety, myself). One way is to try to see the anxiety as the same sort of feeling I would get before I went on stage (I did some singing and acting in high school and college, if you've never been on stage, this might not be useful to you). That's the sort of thing that energizes a performance, so when I'm going somewhere and start to get that "Oh I'm dying, really, I need to curl up in a ball" feeling, I've started to treat it the way I used to treat pre-appearance jitters--as something that was going to make me more alert and energetic.

A lot of times, I'm not fooled, but sometimes it works. Also? What Cashmere said. People who don't experience it seldom understand, no matter how much they love you, and no matter how hard they try. Scott is probably better at understanding my issue than my mother is (or at least he's more likely to be comforting in what he says and does). My aunts who have the same problem are the best ones to talk about it with.


Jen - Aug 19, 2005 6:47:45 am PDT #7349 of 10001
love's a dream you enter though I shake and shake and shake you

They didn't talk down to me, explained things clearly, and felt more like partners in the process than anything else.

I'm so, so glad to hear this. That's exactly the way it's supposed to be.

It makes me really sad when I hear horror stories about hospital births. Being present as a caretaker during such a profound event is a privilege, and that part of it shouldn't ever be forgotten by MDs or RNs or anyone else, no matter how complicated the medical situation is.

A friend of your dad's or a baby's dad.

The baby's dad. My dad has some pretty uncouth friends, but thankfully none of them are that gross.


Calli - Aug 19, 2005 6:49:56 am PDT #7350 of 10001
I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul—Calvin and Hobbs

Does anyone know where I could get something along the lines of a "Hot Fella a Day" calendar? I want to get my mom something pretty to look at for her hospital room (ideally something I could mail there, since I probably won't be by until next week). She can't have flowers, she's rolling her eyes forever at the "cute" fake-flower/stuffed animal stuff folks have brought by. I know she likes looking at cute fellas, so I'm thinking she'd get a kick out of something like this. (Although I shouldn't give her anything above a PG-13 rating, nekkidness-wise. For my own emotional comfort.)

Suggestions? She's a big fan of Tom Selleck.


brenda m - Aug 19, 2005 6:53:14 am PDT #7351 of 10001
If you're going through hell/keep on going/don't slow down/keep your fear from showing/you might be gone/'fore the devil even knows you're there

Oh, brenda. How awful. Yeeeesh. I just found myself imagining myself in your boss's situation. It involved never returning to my home, and having to get all new stuff. Ugh.

That and a full-body scouring.


Topic!Cindy - Aug 19, 2005 6:53:34 am PDT #7352 of 10001
What is even happening?

The baby's dad. My dad has some pretty uncouth friends, but thankfully none of them are that gross.

Thank goodness for small favors. I was even more creeped out when I thought it was a friend of your own father. Ugh.

It makes me really sad when I hear horror stories about hospital births. Being present as a caretaker during such a profound event is a privilege, and that part of it shouldn't ever be forgotten by MDs or RNs or anyone else, no matter how complicated the medical situation is.

I had great and horrible (with "horrible" = the babies and I were fine and healthy when it was over, so not truly horrible in any real sense) experiences while giving birth, in the same hospital, using the same OB/GYN practice. Most of the people though really did seem aware of the import of the event.


Topic!Cindy - Aug 19, 2005 6:54:23 am PDT #7353 of 10001
What is even happening?

That and a full-body scouring.

Yeah. Would it be unhealthy to bathe in a bleach mixture? How about Lysol?


Sparky1 - Aug 19, 2005 6:56:16 am PDT #7354 of 10001
Librarian Warlord

Ack! My boss is stuck at home due to rotting corpse issues.

That's terrible. I feel for the guy who didn't get found -- it's one of those universal nightmares for people, isn't it?

But, maggots in my apartment? I wouldn't be home. I'd be OUT OF THERE.

((sj))

Go, Jen with the younger fella!

Ask me what I bought myself this morning, Bitches.


brenda m - Aug 19, 2005 6:57:33 am PDT #7355 of 10001
If you're going through hell/keep on going/don't slow down/keep your fear from showing/you might be gone/'fore the devil even knows you're there

Oh god, now my coworker is reading her info on maggots over the phone. It sounds like she's this close to a total freak-out.


brenda m - Aug 19, 2005 6:58:03 am PDT #7356 of 10001
If you're going through hell/keep on going/don't slow down/keep your fear from showing/you might be gone/'fore the devil even knows you're there

But, maggots in my apartment? I wouldn't be home. I'd be OUT OF THERE.

She has to wait for the exterminators.


Calli - Aug 19, 2005 6:59:10 am PDT #7357 of 10001
I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul—Calvin and Hobbs

It sounds like she's this close to a total freak-out.

Well, yeah. Maggots, flies, Dead Guy . . . I'd be in a corner (not a corner in that house) rocking back and forth, pouring rubbing alcohol over my head.