Regina Noctis

I’m turning into a rabid fangirl!

Does anyone know of a vaccine?

You represent… playfulness.
Playfulness can often be mistaken for sluttiness or flirtiness…
Flirting is something you enjoy doing, but you’re mostly just
about having fun. You’re into partying, and it’s seems
that people enjoy your company as much as you enjoy their’s.

What feeling do you represent?
brought to you by Quizilla

Oh my. *blush* Have an excellent time with
Captain Jack Sparrow, just be careful of what
he’ll pull from you (sexual or otherwise) while
you’re not looking. Certainly, it’s hard to
resist a man who can make you laugh while
kicking ass in dreads and eyeliner.

Who’s Your Pirates of the Caribbean Love Match?
brought to you by Quizilla

Of course I like the boy in the dreads and eyeliner. The one that reviewers describe as “fruity” and “mincing like a drag queen.” And of course I’d get that result on this quiz.

Faghag much? :D

I should be asleep. I haven’t really gotten anything in the way of sleep. I don’t call what I managed to get between phone calls this afternoon actual sleep. Why am I not asleep?

No more insomnia. Kinjiru

is home from the hospital. Home, and feisty, with ice cream. She’s now on the phone, calling all the people who need calling. She’s got a week of doctor’s appointments coming up in the first week of August, and is bruised from the saline lock and the blood drawing, but otherwise seems to be herself.

I can stop worrying now. And since she has to call half the known world, I may have a chance to get some sleep. The phone will be tied up, so it won’t be ringing. But even more than the phone not ringing, the worry about Dev is not so acute now that she’s home (especially since she came home feisty) and I think I can finally lay the stress-related insomnia to rest, as it were.

Now that I’ve given up trying to sleep because of the phone, the phone has stopped ringing every twenty to thirty minutes. The last call was , letting us know she was being released.

She is being released from the hospital and sent home. is getting ready to go and pick her up. I would go, but I’ve hardly slept. The phone was dead silent, not a single call, until I finally started drifting off to sleep around 11 this morning. It’s averaged one call every twenty to thirty minutes since. Luckily for the Zebra, she slept through the phone calls.

The last call was Dev telling me that they’re releasing her, so if someone could come pick her up, she’d appreciate it. I don’t know what else they may or may not have said, I only know she’s being released.

For all of you who requested calls to let you know any updates on Dev, I’m sorry for just posting here rather than calling. But I’m absolutely exhausted and drained, and desperately want to try and get back to sleep. I’m so cranky from interrupted sleep that I’d probably wind up growling at anyone I talked to. So I’m sparing both of us that.

So, I thought that the week had started out badly…

It stayed on about an equal footing of “bad” with the news about my father.

This morning, it got worse. Health-issue worse. Not me, but .

It’s now a little after eight in the morning. I haven’t yet slept. We’ve been back from the hospital for about an hour.

Around two in the morning, came into my room and told me that she and Dev were leaving for the hospital. I immediately asked her what was up, and she told me that Dev was having some chest pain and her heart was skipping beats. I hopped out of bed, where I’d been curled up comfortably to read, and said, “All right, let’s go. Get shoes.”

We piled into my car, and headed off to Valley Med ER.

I’m accustomed to sitting around for hours before Dev gets seen there. That’s generally the way it works. And when we got there, Dev mentioned to me that she’d heard some of the people in the waiting room say that they’d been there ten hours. This wasn’t looking good for getting her in quickly.

However, since it was chest pains, it was treated as something serious. This was rather surprising to me, since I’d seen people left sitting in Valley Med ER while vomiting up blood for a couple hours at least. I have little faith or confidence in their response time there. We’d only been there about half an hour when Dev was seen.

And the Zebra and I waited. And waited.

Eventually, Zebragrrl got called back to see Dev. Only one visitor at a time per patient in the ER, so I sat and continued reading the book I brought. After a while, Zebragrrl came out to update me on what was going on.

Dev’s blood pressure was very high, and her heart had developed an irregular beat. The first part of the beat was fine, the one that draws blood into the heart. The second one wasn’t happening at the correct time anymore, and so it wasn’t pushing the blood out properly anymore. They gave her nitroglycerin to help the heartbeat and lower her blood pressure, and morphine for the chest pain. They had her hooked up to lots of monitoring equipment. Apparently, she felt rather like she was being turned into some kind of cyborg Dev because of the vast number of wires attached to her. Then Zebragrrl went back to see Dev again, having snuck out to update me while Dev was out of the room in ER she’d been occupying. I decided that a cigarette was in order, since I was worried about Dev. So I had one, and then went back in to wait for another while.

Eventually the Zebra returned, and I was sent in to see Dev. The morphine finally started kicking in while I was talking with her. She alternated among mentioning how tired she was because of it, how uncomfortable the saline lock in her arm was, and how hungry she was, since she hadn’t eaten in 10 1/2 hours by that point. She made comments about devouring the sheets if she didn’t get food soon.

While I was there, the resident on duty for that shift at the ER came in and talked with her. He listened to her heart, and told her that there’d been some irregularities on her EKG. They wanted to keep for observation, so the admitting doctor would be in with the paperwork in a while. She’d be transferred to a normal room in the hospital as soon as there was room. Apparently, all the beds were filled there still, but they were expecting a vacancy sometime soon. However, this is Valley Med “soon.”

The ER doctor stressed that she did not have a heart attack. But reading between the lines, I could see that he was very concerned about the strain her heart is under from the type of arrhythmia that she has developed, particularly in someone as young as she is. His bedside manner was good, and reassuring, but I’ve spent too much time observing people, studying psych, and learning to interpret body language to be completely soothed. I read enough in his manner, as short a time as he was there, that I’m very on edge about Dev’s health right now.

Around six thirty in the morning, Zebragrrl and I got sent to pick up food. I hadn’t eaten since dinner with Carol around 8pm or so Friday, Zebragrrl hadn’t eaten since around 2pm Friday, and Dev hadn’t eaten since around 7pm Friday. I handed Zebra all the cash I had on me ($15) and sent her off into the McDonald’s (great choice for someone who’s in the hospital for hypertension and heart problems, but it was what was there and open.) Zebragrrl got food for herself and Dev, which took up all but a buck and change of the cash. Which was fine. Even though I hadn’t eaten in a while, the only thing that they serve at McDonald’s at that time of the morning is breakfast items, and I dislike breakfast food. I was asked what I wanted from the place, and turned down food. I figured I’d just eat when we got home.

I drove back and occupied thirty minute parking while the Zebra dropped off Dev’s portion of the food, and then we headed home. I cooked for myself, and Zebragrrl settled on the couch to let the television lull her to sleep. I’d like to sleep. It’s hours past my bedtime at this point. But good ol’ sleep disorders aren’t about to let me. In particular, stress-related insomnia, since I’m worried about Dev. It’ll probably be some time before I sleep. If I sleep at all today.

Dev was still in the ER when we left to head home. They hadn’t yet transferred her to a floor. We were hoping that they’d have a room for her before we had to leave, so we’d know where to find her for anyone who wants to visit her, and for us to visit, bring a change of clothes, etc. That didn’t happen. As soon as we know, Zebragrrl and I will both post the information.

As much as anyone might want information, we’d appreciate no phone calls. Zebragrrl just got to sleep, and I haven’t yet, but hope to sometime in the next couple of hours. I don’t know about the Zebra’s reaction to phones, but I’m wide awake on the first ring. Even when I turn off the ringer on my phone, as I discovered the one and only time I did that. The phones outside my bedroom ringing still woke me up. It’s like my reaction to someone saying my name, even if they only whisper it somewhere in the room. I’m completely awake, immediately, and falling asleep again is difficult and sometimes impossible. We will put any information we can into our journals and Dev’s. Well-wishes for Dev are appreciated, of course, but it would be better if they’re through email or LJ comments. At least until we’ve both gotten enough sleep to feel human again.

I, at least, am also in crisis mode. That means that phone calls will be even more jarring for me, and even more difficult to fall asleep after. In crisis mode, all phone calls automatically equal bad news in my head the moment I hear the first ring.

Email from the mother unit.

[Got a letter from your dad today.] It was in Spanish, which I’ve largely forgotten, but the gist of it is that they deported him to Mexico after he got out of jail and took away his green card and social security payments. He’s now in some sort of detention center in Texas, but I’m not sure why. I think he wants me to call Social Security for him, but am not sure what I’m supposed to say. I guess I’ll write to him and give him my telephone number so I can see if there’s anything reasonable I can do. He also asked for your number. Do you want me to give it to him? I could put him off by telling him that you’re moving down here.

This threw me into a mild uproar from the time I first woke up and checked email. Do I want to hear from him? I’ve been both relieved and not relieved that he stopped calling me years ago. On some level, I do still care about him, in spite of everything, and would like to hear what’s been happening with him. But at the same time, his idea of talking with me is to lecture me for half an hour on how I am a failure, always have been a failure, and always will be a failure. He’s been telling me some variation on this all my life, almost spoonfed on it. I absorbed it as a major part of my self-image, and developed a will toward failure because of it. I spent a large part of my teenage and adult life sabotaging myself so that I would live up to this self-image I had of being a failure. This is some of the damage I began fighting to heal a while ago, and was starting to feel pretty good at long last. Then I lost my job at EPIC, and have been unable to find anything much since. I know that it’s not that I’m a failure, that things like this could happen to anyone, and the job market has been poor for a while. Haven’t most of the people I’ve known had difficulties when it comes to finding a new job? Yes, they have. But those are all rational things, and the things I was taught to believe about myself aren’t rational. These months of being unemployed have been a huge blow to what self-esteem I’ve been able to build in the last few years. It’s a constant struggle not to fall back into what I was before, and I’ve been fighting hard not to backslide.

Now, with supremely bad timing, I’m given this choice. The part of me that has always wanted to have some kind of “real” father-daughter relationship, that cares about him still in spite of everything he’s done, wants to talk to him. But I’m simultaneously afraid of it. I know what the conversation will be. I know that, thanks to the brain damage he suffered, he’s incapable of growing beyond what he was before we stopped communicating. I don’t know if I’m strong enough yet to shrug off the kinds of things he says. And, too, I tend to charge toward things that I’m afraid of in an attempt to face down fears. I don’t like to let fear rule my life. That’s another factor that’s pushing me toward talking with him.

This is not an easy choice for me. I can’t send back any kind of immediate yes or no. Before I can truly decide, I have got to do some soul searching, and discover which of these thoughts, feelings, and impulses are strongest, and what feels healthiest for me right here and now. Even the process of thinking this out, though, is making my insides churn.

Got sick on Monday and threw up at work. Got sent home after a half day.

Got a call that night from the temp agency that placed me there. The Burlingame branch decided that I wasn’t learning their policies and procedures fast enough. Apparently, I was supposed to somehow magically absorb everything in a day and a half, without anyone telling me what they were. My “training” consisted of one three-minute explanation of how to use the software, and a later two-minute discussion of the conformed and certified Deeds of Trust in the files. Talk about unrealistic expectations. So, I lost my job.

Have been sick since, with headaches coming on that make my head feel like it’s trying to explode and further bouts of nausea (though I haven’t gotten as bad as I did that day at work.) Right now, instead of headache and nausea, my stomach just hurts. And I’m exhausted, as if I haven’t slept in several days, in spite of just having slept thirteen hours, with time out to walk off cramps in my legs. I’m not sure whether or not this is an improvement.

Then, something that ought to be minor, but just feels like the cherry on the cake of the last couple days. Last year, I tried to buy something from ’s Amazon wishlist for his birthday. August of last year. Off and on since then, I’ve been getting email after email from them, telling me that there were delays in actually shipping it to him. He’s probably forgotten by now that I ever even tried to buy him a birthday gift. I just got the final email about this. After almost a year of this, they finally told me that it’s unavailable. After all of this, it’s very frustrating.

Of course, this year I can’t afford to get anyone anything for their birthdays. And there’s a whole slew of them coming up in August, with the next big batch of birthdays happening in October/November.

I think I’m going to go sleep again, until the next cramp in my leg. Maybe when I wake up, I’ll be feeling well enough to tackle the email I owe a close friend. And if I’m not feeling up to it right now, hopefully he’ll understand the delay.

I got transferred from the Millbrae branch to the Burlingame branch.

The Burnlingame branch is on Primrose Road.

Primrose Road crosses Bellevue Avenue.

Ahhhhhhhh, Bellevue. I remember when.

There was this hottie living there that I had this huge, huge crush on for about four years. And then he came out of the closet.

I’m going to have to drive by after work, just for the trip down memory lane.

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! Thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone, gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

by Ernest Christopher Dowson, 1896

By the time help with the bed arrived, I’d achieved second wind. I was no longer tired. If I’d been able to get to sleep right when I got home, I’d have dropped off. But it’s been a lost cause since then.

Once the bed got fixed, I kinda semi-dozed. Then I got up to go to the bathroom, and haven’t been able to even achieve a light doze again, much less sleep. At this point, it’s two hours until my alarm goes off. It’s not worth it to try and sleep now. I’ll just have to sleep when I get home from work.

My record when starting a new job continues.

I’ll just visit Jumpin’ Java or something on the way up. They’re open in about another hour or hour and a half anyway. Load up on way too much iced mocha, and that will carry me through most of the day.

I have to be up to get ready and get myself up to Millbrae for work. I meant to go to bed about now, but it’s not working out that way.

I was reading this afternoon, no intention of napping, and fell asleep. I eventually woke up, grumbled about the fact that I’d fallen asleep unintentionally, blinked, and it was two hours later. Grumbling about falling asleep again, I hauled myself out of bed even though I was still tired. I logged onto Yahoo and talked for a little while with and sent him a copy of the Mona Warlock, after I fixed the mistake I’d made in shading the nose. Then, since it was 10:30 and I’d eaten nothing all day, I decided it was time to do something about that. I said goodbye to Warlock, stuck my head out and saw that my roommates were asleep, shrugged, and headed out on my own to get food.

I took my time eating and then sat and re-read a section of Shogun while I was letting my food digest. Then I hit a gas station so I could fill up the car. One less thing to do in the morning.

When I got home, my roommates had woken up and gone somewhere. I assume to get some food themselves.

I wandered into my room, intending to go straight to bed, since I was going to be up in six hours. And I discovered that my bed was no longer as I’d left it. The boards were all quite well in place when I hauled myself out of bed earlier and went on a quest for food. Now I’m back, and tired, and need to sleep so I’m okay for work tomorrow, and I can’t. All but two of the boards have fallen through, at least one on both sides. I don’t have the strength and extra arms to hold up the mattress and box spring, fix all the boards, and then situate the mattress and box spring on top. This is at least a two-person job.

Since this hadn’t happened before I left, it made me wonder if my roommates had been in here. That would be no big deal, since they’re in here on a fairly regular basis. The only computer that’s hooked up to the ISP is in my bedroom. But if they were in here, and the boards fell through because someone sat wrong on the bed while waiting a turn at the computer, why didn’t they fix the boards? There are two of them, after all. It wouldn’t be the problem for two people to fix the boards that it is for one.

I suppose it’s also possible that the boards shifted on their own, though I don’t see how four out of six boards just spontaneously fell through the frame.

But now I can’t go to bed until they wander home, whenever that is. I need help to fix the bed. And here I thought I’d be starting a new job on a decent amount of sleep for once in my life. I never seem to. I think the most I’ve ever gotten before starting a new job is roughly three hours of sleep. There’ve certainly been times… too many of them… when it’s been no sleep whatsoever.

Maybe I’ll go nap on the couch until they get back.

You go to work.

Thank you to the . Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I have a job, starting tomorrow morning at 8:30. It’s escrow, again, of course. Paying $17/hour, which makes it the most highly paid job I’ve ever had. It will only last until mid-August, at which point, the person who’s on medical leave will be back. But it’s money coming in, significantly more than what I’m getting on unemployment.

The recruiter from accountemps said that the company was excited about me coming in, with no interview (I’ve had to interview on the other temp assignments I’ve done.) This was based purely on the testimonials they received when they checked my references. The testimonials were so glowing that they were more than happy to take me for a month without looking at my resume, my profile, or doing an interview.

In particular, accountemps said that the one that clinched it was the testimonial they got from the one I worked for, rather than my co-workers. Even though she wasn’t an escrow. And that can only mean one person. The Sniffle.

So, as a thank-you, after I’ve managed to replenish my ailing bank account a bit, I intend to take the Sniffle out for sushi as a thank-you. Considering her days off are days that I will be working, and vice versa, this may have to wait until the last two weeks of August, when the only thing that I’ll be busy with is packing. That is certainly something I can take a break from for a good cause, such as feeding the Sniffle to show her how much I appreciate her help.

I’m broiling in the damn apartment today. It’s probably almost as bad outside, but not quite. This place is generally about ten degrees hotter during summer than the outside temperature.

I woke up miserable sick from the heat, and have taken to emergency cool-down tactics to avoid heatstroke again.

, on the other hand, is probably not at all miserable today. She’s probably enjoying every degree of heat. The poor, cold Sniffle. She and I would never be able to survive as roommates. The warring over the heater during the winter and the air conditioner during the summer would be constant.

I guess, when it comes to temperature at least, I’m the Anti-Sniffle.

4 skinless boneless chicken breast halves, sliced thin
2 egg whites
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon water
1 tablespoon cooking sherry
1 package blanched slivered almonds
1 small bunch (about seven) scallions, minced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons minced fresh gingerroot
1 green bell pepper, cored, seeded, deveined, and sliced into strips
1 red bell pepper, cored, seeded, deveined, and sliced into strips
3 tablespoons hoisin sauce
1 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 1/2 tablespoons cooking sherry
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon Chinese sesame oil

oil for shallowfrying the almonds
water with a float of oil for velvetting the chicken
oil for stirfrying

steamed white rice as an accompaniment

In a bowl, combine the egg whites, cornstarch, salt, water, and sherry. Whisk until frothy and increased in volume. Add the chicken and toss to coat thoroughly. Set aside to marinate.

Combine the hoisin, soy sauce, sherry, sugar, and sesame oil. Stir to combine, and set aside.

Heat a pan large enough to hold the nuts in one layer over high heat until hot but not smoking. Add the oil and let heat a couple seconds. Add the nuts and shallowfry, stirring constantly, until golden. Remove the nuts and spread over a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Nuts will continue to darken on the plate.

Heat the water and oil in a deep pot over high heat until the water is moving but not yet boiling. There should be bubbles lining the bottom of the pot and a visible current, but the bubbles should not be breaking the surface of the water. Water movement that is too rapid will knock the marinade off the chicken and leave you with tough chicken. Adjust the heat to maintain the same temperature in the water. Give the chicken a stir to loosen the slices, and slide it into the water. Stir once to keep the chicken from clumping. Let sit in the hot water and oil until the chicken is about 90 percent white, about 90 seconds. Pour into a colander to drain.

Heat a wok or large, heavy skillet over high heat until a bead of water evaporates on contact. Add 1 tablespoon of oil and swirl to coat the pan. Add the bell pepper, and stirfry until the pepper slices are heated through and glossy with oil, about 30 to 45 seconds. Slide pepper slices into a heatproof bowl.

Add 1 tablespoon of oil to the wok or skillet and swirl to coat the bottom. Add the ginger, garlic, and scallions, and stirfry over high heat until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the hoisin mixture and fry, stirring constantly, until the froth subsides into bubbling. Add the chicken and stirfry until coated with the sauce and cooked through, about 60 seconds. Add the bell peppers and toss until thoroughly coated with the sauce. Fold in the almonds. Serve over steamed white rice.

And now that the marination time is about up, I’m off to complete the thing. :D

I but loved Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.

But then, I’ve got a huge pirate fixation.

Ain’t that right, ?

And, hey, Locke…

MADAGASCAR!

Wish Locke had been here to see it with me. I know about his pirate fixation, too. Maybe during his short stop back in the area before he leaves for Japan and I leave for Hellano we can see it. I wouldn’t at all mind seeing it again.

Hmmm… , , , Roger, and Dimitrii will be very lucky if I don’t start driving everyone crazy wanting a section for pirates on the 2143 Project. But I’ll restrain myself. ;)

I’d really, really like to get out of elementary school now. I mean, bloody hell, prank phone calls? To someone’s pager? There were, of course, no names, and they were staged so there was no voice. Music that couldn’t be understood over voicemail, the sound of someone blowing their nose (or else an attempt at a raspberry.) But still obviously attempts to get my roommate riled up. And, of course, it’s a disruption to everyone’s life. She uses that pager as her alarm clock, and rather than listening to it go off all night, she turned it off. It’s a good thing that there’s a spare alarm clock. If she’d been forced to turn the thing off without any other way to wake up, and had consequently been late to work and been fired for it, I would be on the warpath. I wouldn’t stop until I found out who caused it, and showed them how deep my displeasure ran. In excruciating detail.

Obviously, someone doesn’t get it. It’s over. I assume that person who’s now doing this reads at least some, if not all, of the journals of the people involved in the last go-round. The timing is too perfect, coming after all of the previous drama. It’s too much a case of ruffled feathers, quite obviously.

So, in case our little prankster happens to be around, this is what I have to say…

Anything done to disrupt my roommate’s life disrupts mine also. I live here, too. And, regardless of how anyone else feels, I have had more than enough. Any further attempts to drive my roommates crazy will be regarded by me as a personal attack on me, and will be dealt with accordingly. The levels of drama and stress around here are starting to push me right back into the kind of homicidal rage I used to live my life in before I embraced pacifism. If those foundations continue to be eroded by this fucking immature behaviour, I will track down the ones responsible. And there will be much payment extracted for the loss of my peace of mind.

Is everyone clear on this?

No wonder I’m reaching the point of looking forward to moving to Hellano. I can get away from all you people.

Until this last week, I never would have thought that it would be a relief to just disappear out of everyone’s lives. But honestly, I’d rather deal with my psychotic cousin than people who keep fucking prolonging everything up here.

One last chance to let it fucking die right now.

That is all.

As I sort through things and pack over the next while, I will probably be coming across various things that I have no need to take with me to Hellano. Anyone who wants these things is welcome to them, as they pop up. If no one is interested in them, they’re heading for Goodwill or Salvation Army.

The only thing that I know for sure won’t be going down to Hellano at the moment is the papasan chair in my bedroom.

Shell-style papasan with a black shell cushion. Anyone want?