I'm Becoming a Serial Blurber

It's time for more Botox. I keep wavering. Three days ago I "made an executive decision" that I didn't want to try it again, but this morning, when my boyfriend said I should at least try it the recommended second time, I sort of agreed with him. Just not in the neck. Never, ever, ever again in the neck. That was too horrible.

Oh hey, I just got a thousand million google alerts that Botox has been approved for migraine in the UK. You go, UK.


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Keeping a daily record of pain, activity level and food intake is proving invaluable. I just can't remember anything anymore, so being able to look back and see how often I worked out or how I've been eating lately or how much sleep I've been getting has been really helpful, and it definitely helps me keep an eye on my pain levels and provides an objective view of my quality of life. Because whenever someone asks me how I've been, (I mean, really asks, not just the superficial greeting) I usually give them an optimistic answer. This is fine for the general public, but sometimes I need to not be so optimistic and be a tiny bit more realistic. Like, when I'm talking to my doctor. She needs to know more about how badly I'm doing than how well. The diary helps, here. I may try to sugarcoat hitting an 8 out of 10 every day for the past month, but having it all there in my own handwriting, in undeniable ink, is not leaving any room for denial.

Also, on my bad days, my handwriting scares me.


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I've been having a hard time emotionally. Every single day, my boyfriend helps me cope with this unrelenting pain. He lets me cry on him, snap at him, rage at him, and then apologize all over the place like the hot mess I am, without a single word of judgement. He calls me strong. I think I'm just well supported.


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Shalunya, over at Gypsy Shalunya gave me one of those new-fangled awards for most versatile blogger. That was pretty cool of her. So, there's like, rules to this. A warning: I won't be following them all. First, there's the thanking of the award giver. I can handle that.


Thanks Shalunya! I like your blog, too!


Next, I should share seven things about myself. Okay.

1. I love vegetables. Except beets. I really hate beets.

2. In my youth, I was a sun worshipper. I basked, frolicked, baked and soaked up the rays like they were my lifesource. The heat relaxed me, even sweating felt good. So, I got a tattoo of the sun the summer after I turned 18. Now that I am light sensitive and the heat turns me into a puddle of misery, I'm thinking of tattooing a few clouds over the sun.

3. I had a tongue ring for ten years.

4. I am irrationally afraid of most bugs, birds, and horses.

5. Reading is my favorite coping skill.

6. I didn't wear a dress or a skirt for twelve years, save for two occasions I remember clearly. I hated them. Too girly, I'd say, or too breezy. Suddenly, last spring, I became obsessed with them. I have no idea what happened, but now a long cotton skirt is my ideal comfy.

7. I call unrestrictive lounge clothes and pajamas "comfies". I live in comfies.


Last, I'm supposed to name a bunch of blogs to give the award to. I'm no good at that. I love everyone on my blogroll equally, so how about, if you are on my blogroll, you can claim this award! Is that a terrible copout? Sorry. But really, my blogroll brings all the boys to the yard, so scroll down there and take a read.