Morphine

Could it be??

A blogpost!!

If you know anything about me at all, you know I spend a lot of time in doctor's offices and hospitals. 

On my mom's birthday in 2014, I woke up in the middle of the night and - as you sometimes do when you have a chronic illness - thought I was dying (Spoiler: I was not). 

So she took me to the hospital. 

I had incredible stomach pain that was radiating to my back, so the doctor decided to give me my first ever dose of morphine. 

How morphine usually makes people feel: 

How morphine made me feel: 

I can't even describe how it felt. The best I can do is to tell you that my stomach got all warm and then went numb and then my eyes squinted a lot and I felt like maybe I was being pranked (???). 

I must have been looking at them with extra squinty eyes, because they looked back at me expectantly. 

Growing skepticism, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out and surprise me: 

So there was nothing wrong with me other than the usual and they sent me home. 

This was also the day I found out I was allergic to Percocet. 

:) 

More to come

Dying

An unfinished draft
CIRCA 2012
For your viewing pleasure

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You may have noticed that I took a break from blogging.

Why?

Oh, the usual excuses.... school, work, illness, travelling...

And my mother hit me with the car.

Yeah, that's right.

I was hit with a motor vehicle. In a Walmart parking lot. On my Christmas vacation. By my own mother!

What? Are you alright? Were you in the hospital all this time?! Are you permanently handicapped? 

The tale begins...

So I'm walking along after a day of shopping with my mom, coming out of Walmart, carrying a bag of slimfast bars. While I'm walking past the back of the car, mom pushes the automatic open hatch button and watches as the damage unfolds.

What it looked like:

What it felt like: 

The scene: 

She took me to the urgent care. 

My eye swelled shut and my head was bleeding in two places and I got a face X-ray and some liquid stitches on my nose.

It remains my most exciting story to date. 

I'm Not Dead

Hello, world!

It has been almost exactly two years since my last post!

As a side note, some people (Patrick Sells) are really invested in this blog.

A lot has happened.

I got married!

Learned very quickly that I knew nothing about anything

I was in the hospital! Several times!

How do you summarize two whole years? 

I'm scrolling through my own Twitter feed right now reliving the past two years and wondering which stories I should tell

There's quite a pile to choose from 

I had my first encounter with a scorpion in my own bathroom and not even in nature and it was horrible 

Also I threw up during a tornado warning while my roommate alternated between crying and packing up her jewelry 

You know, just college stuff

Also, lets change the name of this blog to the UNDERdocumented stories of college life because I graduate next year 

Also also

Drawing with a Mac trackpad makes your fingers cramp like 

See you in two years :)

Hoop Girl

I hate the transit.

Remember how I used to love it?

Oh how the turn tables.....

Let me tell you about hoop girl.

Hoop Girl is one of the biggest strugglers of our time.

She's one of those that sprints with a backpack on. She never walks. Only sprints. 

Everyone knows a sprinter.

Whether it was in middle school, high school or college. There's always that one kid that HAS TO GET WHERE THEY ARE GOING. With a backpack on.

And everyone knows how awkward that looks.

I guess that's why turtles go so slow.

Cause they have something on their backs. 

And they don't want to look like this. 

Yesterday...

She brought something with her on the transit.

A GIANT HOOP. 

It wasn't even a hula hoop. It was just a hoop. A big, heavy, orange hoop. 

It was like watching a toddler struggle with the yellow shape box game where they have to fit the square piece through the square hole and always get it wrong. 

To her credit, she did eventually figure it out.

And then guess who she sat by.

And then she decided she wanted some gum. 

Confession, I just watched her struggle for a few minutes.

And then I get a text from my friend sitting behind me. 

I went into that awkward mode where you're laughing really hard but you cant make any noise so you're crying and shaking and I couldn't stop. 

It was an event.

A circus event. 

And she was the ring leader.

With her big, giant, orange hoop. 

Shower Probz and Pandamonium

You may not believe this, but I found something worse than spiders.

Gaggaggagggggaggggggg.

I literally gagged drawing that fourth picture. 

I never thought I'd have to text "Please get your finger bandage out of my shower ASAP, it's interfering with my ability to not throw up."

The joys of sharing a bathroom. 

I started a new semester here at Auburn last week.

My favorite class by far is Biology 1001. (Pronounced Bye-AH-gee).

Don't get me wrong. 

Yifeung Du is adorable. 

She just has this weird thing for pandas.  

                                          

Then we played Pass the Panda.

In an auditorium of 300.

Whoever catches the stuffed panda has to answer a Biology question. 

My inner thoughts: 

Growing Up

Well, I'm home. And even though I'm on vacation, that hasn't stopped the majority of you from hounding me about blogging. Specifically about the time I got hit by a car and wound up in the urgent care center. 

But I'll save that for a later date. 

Like when the scar on my face heals and my eye is in less pain. 

After six months of being apart, two of my high school friends delved back into the tradition of having a sleepover just like we used to. Fried chicken, chocolate in any form, a Disney movie, nail painting - so typical, so predictable and utterly perfect. Then we all climb into a double bed and talk until we pass out and sleep til morning. 

At least.....that's how it used to be. 

THEN 

NOW

THEN

NOW

Things at home are a little different, too.

I'm sharing a bathroom with my brother and sisterinlaw after having my own bathroom for five years.

And we all have the same color toothbrush. 

It's been an unsanitary adventure. 

I know you're all desperate for blog posts.

Especially the guy who smacked me on the forehead at a potluck to see if I'd blog about it.

Well, Merry Christmas.

You got your wish.