Alright, I'm gonna fucking die or something. I've been writhing in pain since yesterday and it's not getting any better.
It's not my appendix, I know that... the region were I feel the pain is nowhere near that quadrant.
I didn't eat yesterday 'cause it would have been pointless, seeing how I couldn't hold anything down.
I've been laying belly-down for as long as possible, it's the only way I feel some sort of comfort (it's times like these where I think "Shit, I could NEVER be a mother. Imagine my kid walking in on me... as I lay on my stomach in my bedroom, wishing only to die. My mom never did that... she was a fucking iron lady who never felt pain!" I'm such a fucking wuss).
BUT, there is one good thing out of all this:
Since I couldn't do shit yesterday besides lay on my stomach whenever I wasn't too busy dry-heaving into a toilet, I was forced into finishing my UNLV application.
That shit is DONE.
I haven't submitted it though, since I'm giving it a little time to simmer. I'll re-read my shit in a couple of days (if I'm still alive, of course) to make sure it's coherent and not full of random "I'M GONNA DIE!" "FUCK THIS SHIT!" comments or anything like that.
Now excuse me, I gotta go back to alternating between the inadvertently-cobra-stretch position and the fetal position... while feeling sorry for myself and fighting the urge to vomit.
Happy thoughts.
I wrote that this morning.
I was a total ray of sunshine. Such a drama queen.
The problem subsided in the afternoon. I only threw up once today (such gory, disgusting detail. As if anyone wants to listen to my vomiting stories).
In order to keep my mind off the pain, I went ahead and proof-read my final application (I decided no Boston for me. That was hard, but hey, had to do it. This shit is getting too expensive and my parents aren't too supportive of what I'm doing, so I'll save all of us the grief of another school). I need one of my recommenders to complete his letter before I send it off, but I do have the satisfaction of knowing I completed everything for which I'm responsible.
After all this, I was still feeling some spasms in my stomach, so I got off the floor (I did the whole application thing while on the floor, belly down... the position I had been in since waking up... not that I slept on the floor, I slept face-down on my bed. Such an unnatural position).
ANYWAY.
I was looking over the CW programs I applied to and nearly passed out. Did you know UNLV only accepts about 6 people for the fiction CW MFA? They have a 4% acceptance rate.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Suddenly the clouds disappeared and the sun shined bright.
Maybe that's the reason why I'm suddenly into barfing and sleeping in the fetal position... ?
... I'm gonna start looking into nanny jobs in Spain starting tomorrow.
OH! This reminds me: this whole "Euro movement" bullshit going on in my twitter (and FB) feed is driving me CRAZY. CRAZY!
Wherever I turn, this group of six gentlemen is talking incessantly about their goddamn european aliases.
And everything they do, they have to mention something about "euro life." They wake up, they eat, they shit, they sleep... everything has to be related to Europe (I'd add some of their actual tweets, but I don't want them to google that shit and find me). And once again, let me reiterate, NONE of the people involved have gone to europe.
SO, these guys all have "european" aliases. They all chose different countries from which they supposedly reside and get names from there (names that are supposed to be refined and whatnot. They're serious about this shit!). It's quite ridiculous.
So far, there are four countries involved: Spain (obvious), England (one guy's first name is a JOKE! And his last name... is L'Oreal. Like, seriously, dude? I'm supposed to refer to you by this name with a straight face?), Italy (last name involved here is ALMOST "Vaseline." Once again... I'm expected to refer to him by this new name without busting out laughing), and the more recent country/name is the thing that got me in this recent little... scuffle. The country is Germany.
Now, the guy (who is half Mexican, half Cuban) chose the country, but he was having trouble coming up with a name (because he knows jackshit about Germany!), and he ASKED for help.
I didn't add my two cents because the only names I'd produce would be mixed up versions of the German national soccer squad (my choice would be Christian Schweinsteiger. Try saying that last name, suckaaa! Oooo! Say it WHILE intoxicated! Yeah, that's what I thought, naco. Ok, I won't be mean... I'd probably give him something with a lot of A's and W's... 'cause the sound those letters make usually makes me giggle... then to hear a Cuban try to make those sounds? HAAAA! I'm having a laugh attack already. Haaaaaans... somethingwithalotofWs).
Once I woke up (because the Q and A took place right before I went to bed) I saw Cubanito had chosen a name: Po (gimme a minute, let me add some shit in here so he won't find my page if he googles his alter ego) Garcín.
?!?!
I had to comment, I just HAD TO.
Me: PO?? As in... the teletubby? WTF, yo? I didn't know that fool was German.
Him: I give that name swag (hashtag) euro boy (connected. Like I said, I don't want someone to google that shit). (hashtag) Po (no space) Garcín. (I'm HELLA paranoid. I don't want to cause any more friction with this stupid crew)
Me: P.S. Nice last name. I hear it's kinda French... nice syndrome associated with it, too ;)
(Nigga forgets I was supposed to be a doctor. Pshhhh!)
Him: Hater! (RT's my comment)
Seriously guys, you're as european as a motherfucking tortilla. CUT IT OUT!
It's not my appendix, I know that... the region were I feel the pain is nowhere near that quadrant.
I didn't eat yesterday 'cause it would have been pointless, seeing how I couldn't hold anything down.
I've been laying belly-down for as long as possible, it's the only way I feel some sort of comfort (it's times like these where I think "Shit, I could NEVER be a mother. Imagine my kid walking in on me... as I lay on my stomach in my bedroom, wishing only to die. My mom never did that... she was a fucking iron lady who never felt pain!" I'm such a fucking wuss).
BUT, there is one good thing out of all this:
Since I couldn't do shit yesterday besides lay on my stomach whenever I wasn't too busy dry-heaving into a toilet, I was forced into finishing my UNLV application.
That shit is DONE.
I haven't submitted it though, since I'm giving it a little time to simmer. I'll re-read my shit in a couple of days (if I'm still alive, of course) to make sure it's coherent and not full of random "I'M GONNA DIE!" "FUCK THIS SHIT!" comments or anything like that.
Now excuse me, I gotta go back to alternating between the inadvertently-cobra-stretch position and the fetal position... while feeling sorry for myself and fighting the urge to vomit.
Happy thoughts.
I wrote that this morning.
I was a total ray of sunshine. Such a drama queen.
The problem subsided in the afternoon. I only threw up once today (such gory, disgusting detail. As if anyone wants to listen to my vomiting stories).
In order to keep my mind off the pain, I went ahead and proof-read my final application (I decided no Boston for me. That was hard, but hey, had to do it. This shit is getting too expensive and my parents aren't too supportive of what I'm doing, so I'll save all of us the grief of another school). I need one of my recommenders to complete his letter before I send it off, but I do have the satisfaction of knowing I completed everything for which I'm responsible.
After all this, I was still feeling some spasms in my stomach, so I got off the floor (I did the whole application thing while on the floor, belly down... the position I had been in since waking up... not that I slept on the floor, I slept face-down on my bed. Such an unnatural position).
ANYWAY.
I was looking over the CW programs I applied to and nearly passed out. Did you know UNLV only accepts about 6 people for the fiction CW MFA? They have a 4% acceptance rate.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Suddenly the clouds disappeared and the sun shined bright.
Maybe that's the reason why I'm suddenly into barfing and sleeping in the fetal position... ?
... I'm gonna start looking into nanny jobs in Spain starting tomorrow.
OH! This reminds me: this whole "Euro movement" bullshit going on in my twitter (and FB) feed is driving me CRAZY. CRAZY!
Wherever I turn, this group of six gentlemen is talking incessantly about their goddamn european aliases.
And everything they do, they have to mention something about "euro life." They wake up, they eat, they shit, they sleep... everything has to be related to Europe (I'd add some of their actual tweets, but I don't want them to google that shit and find me). And once again, let me reiterate, NONE of the people involved have gone to europe.
SO, these guys all have "european" aliases. They all chose different countries from which they supposedly reside and get names from there (names that are supposed to be refined and whatnot. They're serious about this shit!). It's quite ridiculous.
So far, there are four countries involved: Spain (obvious), England (one guy's first name is a JOKE! And his last name... is L'Oreal. Like, seriously, dude? I'm supposed to refer to you by this name with a straight face?), Italy (last name involved here is ALMOST "Vaseline." Once again... I'm expected to refer to him by this new name without busting out laughing), and the more recent country/name is the thing that got me in this recent little... scuffle. The country is Germany.
Now, the guy (who is half Mexican, half Cuban) chose the country, but he was having trouble coming up with a name (because he knows jackshit about Germany!), and he ASKED for help.
I didn't add my two cents because the only names I'd produce would be mixed up versions of the German national soccer squad (my choice would be Christian Schweinsteiger. Try saying that last name, suckaaa! Oooo! Say it WHILE intoxicated! Yeah, that's what I thought, naco. Ok, I won't be mean... I'd probably give him something with a lot of A's and W's... 'cause the sound those letters make usually makes me giggle... then to hear a Cuban try to make those sounds? HAAAA! I'm having a laugh attack already. Haaaaaans... somethingwithalotofWs).
Once I woke up (because the Q and A took place right before I went to bed) I saw Cubanito had chosen a name: Po (gimme a minute, let me add some shit in here so he won't find my page if he googles his alter ego) Garcín.
?!?!
I had to comment, I just HAD TO.
Me: PO?? As in... the teletubby? WTF, yo? I didn't know that fool was German.
Him: I give that name swag (hashtag) euro boy (connected. Like I said, I don't want someone to google that shit). (hashtag) Po (no space) Garcín. (I'm HELLA paranoid. I don't want to cause any more friction with this stupid crew)
Me: P.S. Nice last name. I hear it's kinda French... nice syndrome associated with it, too ;)
(Nigga forgets I was supposed to be a doctor. Pshhhh!)
Him: Hater! (RT's my comment)
Seriously guys, you're as european as a motherfucking tortilla. CUT IT OUT!
2 comments:
ROFL. How classy...not.
I just... I'm dying to see how long this phase lasts... and I'm crossing my fingers that they take lots and LOTS of photos... so we can all go back later and laugh really, really hard at Po and L'Oreal... and Vaseline...
It's gonna be great.
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