All the young dudes carry the news

Went and saw Juno on Sunday with my friend Hammer. Since both our husbands had no wish to see it, but we both did, we decided to go without them. There was a bit of a fun mix-up as far as meeting up at the theatre, but we made it and all was well. Except the popcorn. That sort of tasted like it had been festering there for a year or so. But I digress.

The movie was good, though terribly unrealistic. Full of clever lines, and some things I could relate to and remember. I can see why it got so many accolades, but at the same time it isn't life-changing work here. It was just a good, clever movie that I enjoyed. You know what I found terribly amusing? Jason Bateman singing Hole's "Doll Parts". Fantastic.

I've been pretty busy and there is just so much that I am tired even thinking about writing it all down. I think it must be a tradition for me that my February is always rife with drama, doctors, and depression. I think that last bit just comes because of the former two.

Tonight is a parent council meeting, it's the dinner one where we all go meet at a place I would almost never eat, and exchange pleasantries we don't mean, and skirt around issues we have skirted around a million times before. Somehow Hammer managed to get conned into going though, so at least I'll have someone there that is beyond the "small talk" stage with me. It isn't that I'm a snob, or anything like that. It's more that... oh I can't explain it and there's no use trying. I just feel like I'm on a very different wavelength from most of the parents there. I don't know if it's an age thing (if someone tells me I'm just a baby one more freaking time I swear to God I'm going to punch them with my little baby fist. I'm 31 years old for crying out loud and I've likely seen more than most of the women there could dream of, thank you very much. Except you Hammer, you can call me a baby, I get that you don't really mean it) or if it's just that I don't care how much money a person makes, or what their husbands do for a living. I don't know.

I was driven home from work last night by my boss. She had a co-worker follow us home, and she drove me home in my neon. I literally saw stars and only stars - focus was impossible and my head felt like it was being crushed in a vise. My right arm was tingling, then it was on fire, then it went numb. Then the same thing happened to my face. I got in the door after she brought me home and I crashed on the couch. Hard. S brought me some meds and then I managed somehow to crawl up into bed.

I don't remember much after that except for S waking me up telling me he had to go to work, and I had to at least get myself on the couch so that there was parental presence among the young fry. I told C that I couldn't take her to guides and she said ok, that was fine. Then she called her friend Z to say she wouldn't be going, and Z said they could come get her. You know how there is that friend that would just drop everything to help you? That is Hammer. I can't even tell you how glad I am for her, I keep meaning to do something nice to thank her but there isn't enough time for me to even breathe lately, and I know she doesn't expect anything in return (she knows I would do the same for her in a heartbeat) but I still want to.


Ok, time to get the kids off to school. Thankfully my vision is back, although my head still hurts. Aren't tumors fun?