tonight i'm not drunk, but i just took 10 milligrams of valium. i was drunk last night. two martinis, a cosmo, and 1/2 a bottle of red wine. the night before i was drunk too. i had a friend from Sunnyvale visiting. and it is my week off from the regimine. i called in postal at work. i said, "It is in everyone's best interest that I don't come to the office for a couple days." i'm seriously, seriously losing my shit. i feel absolutely insane. i mean, i've always been a little on the crazy side, psychologically speaking, but lately i am utterly unable to function. it may be hormones. things have been tweaked since the surgery. it may be that i've totally fucked up my body and my physiological chemistry with the way radical dieting and workout schedule. i am chemically imbalanced due to my own extremism and i feel like i'm going off the deep end. like a nervous breakdown or something. i wonder how i will feel in the morning. i plan on calling catherine and my gynecologist first thing in the morning. the way i feel IS NOT NORMAL. something is wrong, very very wrong, and i'm a little scared. valium. good. sleep.

Yes, I should say something is wrong, Sarah. You tell us you're on this insane diet and excerise regime and then you tell us you're feeling postal...not a goodness, Sarah. Do tell us what your doctor says.

ketone poisoning? take care, ms creamcheese.

btw: both A. and myself have been in a rut. maybe it is something cosmic.

hmmm, as have we and this time of year i am usually joyus...it';s usually really good for me... go figure.. i've got too much on my mind, photo prjects, parents visiting, business trips, corporate meglamush etc. umm ehh take care sarah... could a night out on the beach, away from everyone, by yourself, over nite, a bottle of wine, some more of those blues you got, and a blanket solve your problem? take 5 sarah

Parents visiting? That can be stressful, yes. I'm sorry y'all are having issues. It's never a good thing. Sarah, I hope you're ok. I'm worried that the way you've been treating your body might have messed you up...I agree with Patrick, take 5.

I think we should have a national holiday called "Time-Out Week" where no one has to do anything. We could stagger this week so that it occurs different weeks in adjoining counties, so people could still go to the store if they needed to and emergency services would be available. I am really feeling the need for such. I am so looking forward to waking up naturally tomorrow, instead of to "EHHNTT! EHHNTT! EHHNNT!" Sleeping in is damn close to Nirvana, I think.

That sounds excellent. This week is kind of my time out week by accident, but it's still stressful for me. More so than if I had worked, I think.

im actually kinda of excited the folks are coming, they have never been to LA, and well, i like showing people stuff! we are going to the Getty for startes and I will have a day off, furthermore its my birthday so they will be footing the bills and buying me shit! wahoooooo

we had our first heavy rain last night. creek is swollen this morning. A. started her flow as the rains began. I love the rain. This is usually the time of year where I become productive and happy. Ach. I'm going to kill it tonight and jump out of the rut. Here's how: 1) Dinner will be steamed veggies. 2) I will not drink myself into a stupor. 3) I will not smoke myself into oblivion. 4) I will do the goddamn dishes. In fact, I will bust my ass around the house until two hours before bed. aye.

Oooh...I love the Getty. It's super cool. Nate, that sounds like a good plan. It's not raining here yet. I hate it. It's bright and sunny and HOT.

sounds like my usual evening funny, my lady is about to do her flow thing too... however i don't think im in good for any nookie right now so its jsut as well... cosmos align! we got some of that rain too...nice clean LA i got film to process, shit to pack, house to start cleaning for parentals

isolde ar you thinking of the old Getty or the new...im talking about this Getty, not the original in Malibu http://web.reed.edu/academic/departments/art/getty/

That's the ghetty I mean. Yay for cosmos align.

groggy. usually 5 milligrams is plenty. first, We The Coffee Drinkers should east into We The Black Tea Drinkers and then We The Herbal Tea Drinkers or just Water. that's going to be my first attempted change. the second trick is going to be for me to stop thinking about food and calories and meals every waking hour of my life. this may be easier if i can get my appetite under control, which may mean slowing down on the training. however, i've been training intensely for a while now without this level of obsession, so i really do think my body is hormonally fucked up, which is causing the hunger, the depression, the panic attacks. it's like a reverse case of psychosomatic symptoms. my body is causing my brain to go all haywire. maybe i need a JUMBO THORAZINE.

Maybe... I'm starting to slide myself, I haven't slept or eaten in two days. Haven't left the house in a day. Shit.

Oh,Sarah,I'm so sorry your are having panic attacks,I get them when I try to drive now,my friends think I'm nuts,but it's real and so scarey,my doctor gave me meds for it,but it doesn't help.Get some help about it while you can,or you'll be all fucked up,like me.

i am going mad also. but i have organised a three week holiday where i am going to do NOTHING. I'm having dedicated pajama days - how many and which day i dont know, because I am not having a timetable. my work life is so deadline focused, that i figure the best thing to relax is to have no plans. altho i do have to make gym sessions. but thats okay, i can cope with that. sarah you take it easy chick.

Dedicated pajama days begin now! Viva la pajama revolution! I walked down main street in my pajamas today.

what colour were they? see i couldnt get away with that because mine are blue with cows on them and moo! and cow! words. very cool

That would be awesome. My pjs are black silk. Very obvious. I did put on the bottoms and the tops, so I wasn't wearing boxers and a camisole, which people might have objected to. I mean, they were obviously pjs, but they rock...cummon.

hm maybe in all those years of doing nothing, I was learning an important skill. try doing nothing all day. or rather, don't try to do anything. some things are useless enough not to count as doing anything: stare at the walls. if you're worrying about somebody coming in and seeing you staring at the walls or if staring at the walls is good for your mental health, you're not doing it right. maybe play a computer game, nothing with scores or anything. read something that you wouldn't bring up in conversation, something lame like a reader's digest or whatever. when you start reading something for the 5th time, throw it across the room. if you have a ceiling fan, throw socks at it. see how close you can get them to the middle (on the top) so they will be propelled the farthest. drink sugary soda (no caffeine). watch cartoons. at the end of the day, think "I wasted this day, and I will never be held accountable for it." Of course, maybe this only works if you're young enough to consider your days expendible. This advice to all people in a funk, but I'd say you cd benefit the most, sarah, what with your working hard and playing hard.

I'm playing hard today! About to go off to lunch with geek boy and then a whirlwind of exciting activities!

i dunno man, but this funk is killing me.... whats it like to be single?

you honestly don't remember or are you just acting like a spoiled rotten fuck head? boy, don't make me get angry with you.

i have been with her since i was 19, i have no idea...it may be a good idea if you get angry with me, i need some discipline of some sort...

Wow, Patrick, this doesn't sound good. Being single is wierd. Sometimes I feel like a pirahna. I think it's better to work things out. Especially after a long relationship, being single is lame.

being single is not lame being with is not lame

Right now, being single is lame for me.

the grass is always greener.

ok, so here's some news. i can't fucking believe i am doing this, but it's only because i feel like there is no other choice. i've exhausted all other options and therapies. i am going on the birth control pill. i have suffered from irregular or nonexistent menses for most of my adult life. now that the hormone fluxuations have become so extreme, basically rendering me unable to funtion physically and making me a living emotional nightmare, borderline psychotic - this time for nearly two full weeks - the doc told me today to give the pill a try for a few months and see if it evens me out at all. this is nuts. i won't even drink milk because i fear anything that might fuck with my natural hormones. and now this. she asked me, "when was the last time you had sex?" and i just laughed and laughed and laughed. and when i got myself composed she said, "what's so funny?" and i said, "if anyone tried so much as to touch me, i would scream and run away." or beat the living shit out of them, i thought to myself. anyway, maybe this will work. more than anything, i hope it helps get my apetite back to normal so i can stop obsessing about food two weeks out of every fucking month. it's a terrible way to live.

Hormones? What's my excuse?

Wow, Sarah. That's intense. The grass _is_ greener. So green, it hurts. I wish that there was no fence.

My eyes fucking burn and my feet fucking stink and I'm tired and my sheets are a lovely tan. I love them. fuck up bitches, the super bads.

my first binge in a month. i was invited to an exclusive dinner party, in a private reserved room in one of the finest resauran ts in honolulu. the best wine, chambage. ahi cakes, seared salmon pinwheels, chicken bruchetta, more wine, steak kabobs, sauces and sauces and mahi mahi fried in coconut batter. champage. champage. a gathering of geeks. there's not many of us here in honolulu. i met and charmed the CEO of the hot new st art-up here that just got `16 million in venture capital. it was in the news. i visited thewebsite and applied for the web developer position, spur of the moment,. whipped together a half assed resume just hours before gettin on a plane to mexico. the CEO had no idea who i was, some young punk, a sophomore in college of all things. i wanted to pinch his rosey ass trustafarian cheeks and tell him to hire me. but he's just one of those kids with a great idea and lots of funding. he's buying his prayers from jesus. i'd like the job, but he doesn't make those decisions. 500 buyers in two days of word of mouth marketing. lucky 21 year old bastard. if they don't hire me, or if they hire some starving san jose wannabe, i'll beat some fuckin doors down if i have to. xml. i run circles around those geeks. fuck this.. maybe i'll just get in my car and go up to the estate and sit in the hot tub. drink more wine and fuck off work tomorrow. i almost quit anyway. ould give a flying rats ass either way. yeah, i just called E on the cell. i got the code to the gate. got tub. r ed wine. tonight i ate. i ate a lot of ice cream. i was the only one in the private room who ordered dessert. i ordered the three best desserts on the menu. all of tjem involved mass quanitites of chocolate. i ate with fervor. the only other two women there watched me in envious amazement. i'm outta here. up to the hot tub. fuck work. fuck dot commie start ups. life's short. eat and drink. and fuck fuck fuck.

bleg blah and woe. fart.

God i wish i had some valium right now.

god that's so weird. i just took my last valium about 5 minutes ago. only 10 mg. i've had a day of dispair. it started out ok. i had a leisurely morning, followed by some time at the gym. the doc said i could start walking but that i should "take it easy". so i do slow treadmill stuff. i got pissed off the other day because i was winded after walking up 3 flights of stairs. it's only been a month, but fuck almighty you lose it so fast. there's progress, but it's not fast enough. the scar is still... it's just so wicked. it looks evil. it looks as if i tried to disemblowel myself. the belly button is just barely starting to look like a normal belly button, but not quite. it will take time. i've gained weight in infirmary and i feel like shit. my thighs, god, i can't stop obsessing about how fat they get. and too much junk in the trunk on top of it. i feel fat and my self esteem is in the dumper and none of my clothes fit me and i dont' recognize my own body. there's no satisfaction. i don't regret it, but fuck almighty, this has been one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. if this is as bad as it gets though, i'd say i've got it pretty easy. this long distance relationship shit is starting to wear on me. on us. it's hard to get through the days, it's hard to stay enthusiastic. he's distracted by career troubles and others, i'm distracted by my body, food, fat, and self esteem. there's disconnection. there isn't even the comfort of simply being able to hug one another, there's little consolation. there's no fixing these problems, it's a matter of being able to sit with the pain and realize that time has to pass and hope that everything works out eventually. you have to have hope, you have to keep believing. but there are doubts, self-doubts, questions, expectations, worries. it's just a tough time. these days are so hard. i feel like i want to quit my life for a while and forget about everything. the pressure gets overwhelming. i think that's why god invented valium.

Amen.

I need some of that. Patrick, do you have any Valium in that big black bag of yours? Send it to me. I'm going crazy. For real.

you are afraid of flying your're girlfriend at the salon recommended va..va...valieeeeium as a good way to deal with fear of flying. you are going to be doing a lot of flying real soon spider. see your doctor. play dumb.

I don't have a doctor! I haven't signed up for a new one since I moved. Or, really, I have, but I haven't gone to her or gotten my old doctor to send her my files or anything. I need a psychiatrist, is what I need. I need hospitalization. I need to be strapped to a bed and shot full of Thorazine. I need my mom.

I think I may have some Ativan at home. I hope to God I packed it when I moved. I can think of only one place it could be, so if it's not there when I get home, I'm going to cry. 3 and a half hours left. I can make it.

im seeing what i can put together for ya.

oh shit. rhiannon's on her way to becoming a xanax achiever. welcome to the dark side.

im proud to be an enabler

are you ok spider? none of this sounds right. don't send her drugs. she has my virtue.

sarah, you know those scars will fade to normal skin color eventually. it'll take about six months to start looking semi-normal. now that it's been 10 years, you can barely tell my wrist was ever sliced open. it was an accident, I swear. if it had been on purpose I would have done it with my right hand to my left wrist, but it's the other way around. I got in a fight with a window.

I'll be okay. Something I don't feel like talking about happened this weekend and it knocked me on my ass. If my moods weren't so labile, I'd be able to get a better grip on myself. 15 minutes ago, I was giddy. Now I could fall asleep. My grandmother got in fights with a few windows. Her scars were on the back of her hand. She had serious mental problems. Probably Borderline. Physically, sexually, verbally, emotionally abusive. She was beautiful...looked like Grace Kelly. I just want something to make my stomach unknot.

VINO

No, then my head will swim too. I forgot that Ativan only makes me tired. It doesn't make me relax. Shit. I'll be okay soon anyway. I just have to keep myself from doing anything embarrassing. Like posting about this again.

kava kava. all natural. find it in the herbal supplements section of your grocery store.

sometimes if your head is swimming, your body will follow

i think patrick's right about the wine. my right hand: scar on the wrist from punching through a window scar on the back from putting my hand through a mirror a small cut on the tip of the thumb courtesy of phoebe pope's brother's knife.

hah hah. you think you know what kava is? come to the Big Island. we'll teach you how to relax with kava. </smug>

that kava kaka and st john's wort is all placebo. it works great for people who expect it to work and who aren't truly fucked up in the head.

kava does not come in a pill. sorry. kava is this light brown powdery but gritty, flour-like substance pounded from the root of a Awa plant. you mix it with cold water and maybe even a little coconut milk, just to take the edge of the fucking gnarly ass taste of it. like mud, only more bitter. you mix it in a koa bowl and it doesn't entirely dissolve. you don't sip it, you gulp. quickly. you let it slip right on past your mouth and throat. within seconds your tongue goes numb. within a few minutes you feel your body relax. in another few minutes, your mind follows suit. kava is a legal narcotic. the more you drink, the healthier you will be. i drink some every week. among many other things, it cures panic attacks, sore throats, hangovers, headaches, and it also helps you take a good shit.

here on the mainland, it comes in a pill. why not just go for the valerian? sure, it smells like sour socks but it works great. i remember thinking how it sucked and then realized i hadn't moved in an hour and a ˝. once i realized that, i definitely felt better.

St John's Wort ain't no placebo. Trust me...

i just take half a bottle of nyquil when i'm feelin restless. woooooeeeeeeeeeee

The problem with St John's Wort is like most other herbs it can take a long time (3-4weeks to months) to build up enough to have an antidepressant effect. Kava is real good, and can be pretty dangerous. I made some great valerian tincture a few years back that my herbal teacher said knocked her back two or three days, but the same stuff, same batch, and same dosage does virtually nothing to me. Too many variables with herbs, preparation, storage, potency, synergy, adulteration, cross tolerance... takes some experimentation with any particular herbal med to see what the effects may be. Prior to WWII, our pharmaecopeia was primarily plant derived; after the war, better living through chemistry. Or is it? Fear, distrust, saddness... why not treat the problem and not the symptom.

oh there can be some toxicity problems too with SJW espcially if taken with other synthetics. But the side effects of the herb which few people talk about are aches and pains, insomnia, hypersombnolence, tingling in extremities, lethargy, extreme fatigue, muscle deterioration, immune system dysfunction...with prolonged ingestion even in less than therapeutic doses. Not everybody, not all the time, but enough to be wary of any quick fix or long term maintenance.Find a good wholistic practitioner. Enzymatic Therapies is one of the few regulated brands of herbs and vitamins with good consistency. Check out a local herbalist, and talk to his or her clients before entrusting your health care. Remember, less than 100 years ago it was usually more dangerous to seek out health care than it was to care for yourself. Sorry for ranting. Too much cayenne. Valerian has NOTHING to do with valium.

st. john is also opposed to birth control pills. cayenne is a drug. i'm balls to the wall loaded.

I went shopping. Now I'm okay again.

i fully support and understand the power of retail therapy.

I only spent $21, too -- no guilt!

By sarah on Monday, April 30, 2001 - 02:47 am: there's no fixing these problems, it's a matter of being able to sit with the pain and realize that time has to pass and hope that everything works out eventually. you have to have hope, you have to keep believing. but there are doubts, self-doubts, questions, expectations, worries. it's just a tough time. these days are so hard. i feel like i want to quit my life for a while and forget about everything. the pressure gets overwhelming. i think that's why god invented valium.

cyst promised that in ten years the scars would fade. it's been a little over ten years and the scars now are topped with newer scars. and there's a fold grown where there ought not to be one. i can hide it, but you can't hide anything when you're naked. i have never had the desire to paint. i got a D in Art in the 6th grade. always got hung up on details and perfection. but these images in my head are so crazy vivid. they would flow so easily onto several huge canvases using some paints. i wouldn't even know what kind to use, and brushes or sponges or my fingers or whatever, i could get the images down, roughly, recreations of snapshots taken of random moments in my other life. the waiting is what reminds me of what i really am. these boards are the only evidence left.

I am an internet stranger to you. No need to respond. I have tried to think of any words that could ease the misery of falling down into a deep dark, dark place. I have none and others please don’t say “I know how your feel” YOU DON’T! I DON’T! I just wanted you to know that others care.

I know how your feel. ;)

eat and drink. and fuck fuck fuck, redux.

ha! that totally made my day.

at the beginning of the year i took inventory of my relationships, and stealthily eliminated the vast majority of them, because the inventory revealed stolen parts and narrow mindedness and totally unnecessary competitiveness. my ohana remains strong, but we connect only once a year now. aside from my sister, i have only one truest dearest friend whom i met in 1992. so is it funny, strange, or sad that my oldest, closest, most intimate friends are right here? you have outlasted the vast majority of relationships in my life, and your friendships have never failed me. even when you fuckers piss me off. especially because you fuckers piss me off. i let you in and you hurt me and you hate me and i get on your ever loving last nerves. but here you are. still. please don't leave me, even though i am occasionally crazy, bitchy, and nonsensical. i am also very sweet, very soft, very plain, and very, very loyal. i set the timer for 15 minutes and let myself relish in self indulgent pity and cries for attention and fantasies of running away. here is where i find the balance on the scale of abandonment and escape.

Mark, you do know that this place is a million bucks. You have ten years of scripts. It is an Internet Cheers. You open the door walk around the mahogany bar and take a stool. You are the owner and entertainer (played by Billy Joel) playing occasional songs on the piano. Ah yes, heather (Played by Sandra Bullock) and Sarah (played by Angelina Jolie). Daniel played by Neil Patrick Harris. blindswine played by Usher. Antigone played by (you tell us Antigone). La you will be played by Rachel Ray. On the last stool next to the wall with one foot on the brass foot rail and standing in front of his stool is Donald Southerland.

Ass-kisser! Besides *I* want to be played by NPH.

OK, Darling. I'll see what I can do.

After discussions with Neil, he has declined. He said that he does not have the steal stare of the magnetic beautiful eyes and the passion of Cleopatra that would be needed to play your part.

steel.Hard to type with bourbon.

I'm played (as a narrator only) by Darrell Hammond impersonating Sean Connery. "That's what yer mother shaid lasht night, Trebek!"

Rachel Ray? Well, I guess she's slightly better than Sandra Lee. But if she says evoo or yummo once, the deal's off.

A B C D E F G H Take the ribbon from your hair, shake it loose and let fall. Lay is softly on my skin, like the shadows on the wall. Come and lay down by my side till the early morning light. All I’m taking is your time; help me make it through the night

Crap! I guess I need a new name. Some of you were posting in 1999. Were you ten? I might not be as old as some of you are??????

I was ten. And somewhere in there I lost another 20 years. But you won't believe I'm 40. I don't. I don't believe me or Sarah or swine. Or maybe my ability to measure is just all fucked up, like when I hear voices on the radio and people my age don't sound old anymore. A little slow on the uptake oldman. Personally I blame the lack of proper vicious behavior around here. At least there is *some* uptake, which really makes me suspect that something about you is not as new... Jesus christ, did I just have some coffee?! Hell yes.

what's a little befuddling isn't that someone would stumble upon these boards one way or another and do some reading or even just a random drive by posting. what's befuddling is, at this point in the sorabjiite history, that anyone who hasn't already been here for a good long while would find any reason to stick around. it would be like attending a stranger's 10 year high school reunion. or maybe it would feel like you were randomly crashing an intimate dinner party. and it's not to say that i personally wouldn't welcome new people who have something to contribute, because i really would. especially because we've lost droopy and sheila and spider, and i could go on. i particularly crave someone with a likeness of the heart and psyche of the boognish. someone who's going to be real, good and bad. like the people who remain and persist. but. it's the internet. and she's a whole different beast now than in 1999 or 2003. so i suppose those hopes are foolish. you know how we'll be able to tell when it's the real thing? the secret lies in Satan's Severed Head.

Even *I* wasn't 10 in 1999. But don't bother looking for la that far back.

Psyche of the boognish- The slang or the real legend? I’m not fat.

i'm clearly Donald Sutherland.

I want to be played by Frank Sinatra Jr., if I'm invited.

Does he act or just sing? Ok Joel (Mark) can play and Frank Jr. (Dougie) will sing “My Way” in the pilot. Few regrets hummmm?

Sarah, how do I become a club member of "Satan's Severed Heads?" Ha ha ha!

i feel a little sick about some things. mostly i feel sick about continuing to work on a contract basis for my former employer. very limited work. but they've done some really skeevy things in the last couple of years. they've done some really unjust things in the last few months, under the guise of state budget cuts. they cut positions, and posted those same positions for hire before the original person had finished her/his contract. if you want to fire someone, fire them. but don't be sneaky about it. that's just so weak. i've only been unemployed full time since april and already i'm very sick and tired of being broke. on the other hand i am loving spending a lot more time with my girls. quitting my job and being unemployed has made me realize that i'd let myself be lulled into a ten year complacency in a job i could do blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back, just because the pay was decent and perks were rad. now i'm realizing that most of that time was wasted. i'm content to take the rest of the year off. but in january i'm going to start job hunting. with the eventual goal of out-earning senor. which i can do. go back to the science industry. but first tits and ass. then comes the pencil skirt and high heels. then comes the paycheck. it'll be like i'm a brain hooker. i also feel sick for having embarrassing pop songs from the early 90's stuck in my head and playing them over and over on utube streaming on my phone into the car speakers and ear buds and laptop and whatnot. i wanna sex you up. ooooh oooooh oooh ooh. every little thing i do, you're on my mind. is this drunken ramblings? i think it is. tomorrow power snatch, 75 @ 55#. shit.

she said "power snatch" hegh.

Heh heh. Sarah!!!!!!! You go girl.

i walked into that space this morning completely pissed off by a totally out of the blue judgmental and sarcastic text message from my neighbor across the street. i crushed that bitch in 9 minutes and 16 seconds. i could have finished faster but my fingers started bleeding by the last 15 reps. only one woman in the previous three classes finished faster than me, snatching 55# 75 times in 7:21. i said power snatch. POWER. SNATCH. in every way imaginable.

rule 312-a...never, never text anyone who knows where you live. are these like 55 american pounds?

Sarah, your so sweet lady. Hopefully things will go well for you. :-)

99% of the people I text know where I live...

I'm pissed off that I can't even go on facebook and chat with my friends because of a very sick and no life troll/stalker!

yes. 55 pounds, as measured in weight by american rule. not terribly heavy actually, until about the 50th lift. i got 50 lifts in just under 4 minutes, but the last 25 were challenging. it was just a matter of being out of breath. and then the blood. a little may have gotten into the chalk bucket. it wasn't pretty. that's why i love it.

i feel as if i should be deeply embarrassed that i absolutely adore this. mainly because i got turned on to chris brown via sesame street.

So I am one percent. Gee.

BTW, if I end up dead soon, my wife did it. Srsly.