everything is fine

Well, it's been a long year. But I survived. And, I think, things went well. I made some new friends, kept the old, and reconnected with the even older. And I'm finally feeling okay with everything. Everything is sort of, well, how it ought to be. And, now, here we are. At the veritable end of the year. The end of the decade. The decade. The period of ten years. It's over. Ten years are about to have officially passed. Ten years of which I was alive for ten. It just blows my mind. I was reading a list of the top songs of the decade the other day. There were songs on it that I was listening to when I was, like, in fucking 6th grade. I feel so damn old. I've put a little bit of thought into my resolutions this year. I couldn't remember mine from last year, so I hope there aren't any repeats. Although I suppose if I can't remember then it makes little difference. Be more outwardly confident. Also be more aggressive with the things I want. Get seri

I saw Sherlock Holmes last night and I was pleasantly not surprised. I knew it was going to be awesome going into it because, simply, anything Robert Downey Jr. does is excellent. They should just make a movie about him. If E! decided to make a reality show that followed Robert Downey Jr. around while he did his Robert Downey Jr. thing then I would absolutely be an avid follower of the show. But aside from the experience being an excellent time with excellent friends and an odd but endearing musical score, it made me want to read a lot. And so I spent the day reading, for the most part. There was an excellent walk through the cold and rain in the middle somewhere, but there was also a lot of reading. Which made me want to do something I haven't done in a while. Write. And so Greg and I proposed another pact: we have to write five solid pages of story by the new year. Which gives us, oh, about three days to write five pages. No big deal. It's going to be a very short

Well, it looks like I've bottomed out on my weight loss, which is a good thing. Ten pounds? I can get that back easily. Especially considering my normal weight is only plus five. Which is kind of pathetic. Most of the mass I lost was in my arms. What the fuck? It couldn't have been my legs or something? Now I've got these bony arms again. I look like a damn middle school student. But, I mean, what can you do. I've been practicing a lot of music these last few days. Practicing and listening. I really want to play clarinet again. And saxophone. My old teacher thinks after I can play again it's going to be amazing. I'm looking forward to it. One of my old friends wants me to play clarinet in his band over the summer. I guess that'll give me a couple months to get back up to speed. I can practice fingerings until then, I suppose. I hate being at home all day. I've been walking around outside more. Pushing further. I want to leave, though.

I've never really connected with my cousins. We're just different folks, I guess. My cousins have a Christmas tradition of opening their presents and rewrapping them before Christmas. I'm told that they have forgone the unnecessary steps and simply open their presents as quickly as they can with no regard for Christmas morning traditions. I can't imagine being so obsessed with things. I guess I don't feel entitlement as passionately as they do. But it is Christmas, so I won't complain about anything. I've spent a lot of today listening to a lot of Dave Matthews. I also spent a lot of time playing music. And now, I'm feeling musically energized. Maybe it's because I can't sing that I want to play so badly. What is it with wanting things more when you can't have them? My fingers have gotten soft, though, and they can't keep up with my ideas. It's kind of sad, but what can you do? Practice, practice, practice. Maybe in a we

I am, by many means, a man of much impatience. I simply do not want to deal with anything, ever. And this gets me into trouble. It's what makes me do things like, oh, swallow mouthfuls of unchewed food until I get sick and then, when I'm better, doing it all over again. I just want to be better, and, for whatever reason, I'm of the mind that you can simply will things to be true. I am better. I will eat this food. I will brush my teeth with toothpaste. I'm starting to dream about the foods I can't eat. Foods that I always sort of took for granted and didn't eat before this. I have an unholy craving for chicken. Roasted chicken, fried chicken, chicken strips, chicken sandwiches--I want it all. I want to taste the chicken and mash it up in my mouth. And you'd think I'd be tired of eating chicken because I ate it almost every day during the semester. But no. It's like I'm having chicken withdrawals. I want quiche, and turkey, and ham,

It is hard to believe a number of things. I can barely believe I had surgery a week ago. My perception of time since then is a bit skewed. It's either been much longer or much, much shorter. Also, I can barely believe Christmas is only two days away. It certainly doesn't feel like it. But all of the screaming and fighting downstairs definitely gets me into the seasonal spirit. Some families don't consider it the holidays until certain traditions are upheld. Like hearing Feliz Navidad on the radio without actively looking for it, or seeing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on television. No, nothing quite says it's Christmas like your parents fighting over the same thing they do every single holiday. But, I mean, you know. Haters gonna hate. Ashley came over today. The first person I've really seen since this whole thing went over. It was nice. Easily the best thing that's happened in the past week. Also nice just to have something different happen aroun

My advice, I guess, to anyone that can't opt out of mouth related surgery is to never, ever feel nauseous. Ever. I learned the hard way that nausea is a slippery slope from which you are virtually guaranteed not to return. And it was undoubtedly the most unpleasant experience I've had in quite a while. I thought the roof of my mouth was going to split open. And so I'm off the pain medication. And all of it, basically. I still have to take the antibiotics, but I really don't want to. I'm just done with all of it. I'm ready to be normal again, I think. Like, can I just be put into a coma for the next few months? I suppose all of this will help me build character. And speaking of characters, I'm hoping that a change up in my medications will let me rise to my normal operative level so that I can get back to writing my story. Every time I sit down to work on it, all my energy and focus just seems to fade away and all I'm left with is a horrible hea

"There will be a day," they said. "Where everything will catch up to you and hit you at once. And you are going to feel terrible." I thought I had already had that day, but it turns out that it was yesterday. What an exhausting, horrible day. It was like being hungover except multiplied by a billion. I feel a lot better today, so let's hope that was the hump day. Since I spent a lot of time in bed, I read through The Ultimates , which Edgar so graciously let me borrow. I'm not totally sure, but I think the series won a bunch of awards or some such. And I thought it was pretty good. It was a pretty good read. But I realized something. I really wasn't paying attention to the artwork. I had to force myself to go back and take in each panel. All the little details instead of just the main idea. I just wanted the words. I wanted the story and the dialogue. I guess what it really comes down to is that--as far as comics go--I'm really a story

I really feel like a Sim. Like, if you gave them a skinny body but then put all the fat in their face. That's exactly what I look like. It's pretty funny, I think. And also the fact that I increase my menu by one specific type of meal every day. First it was juice and protein drinks, then it was oatmeal, then Ramen noodles. And then, macaroni and cheese. And today, it will be a different kind of pasta. But whatever I eat, I need to start eating a lot of it. I weighed myself this morning and, for the first time in years, I've dropped below 145--and I am alarmed. But we knew this would happen. I'm starting to regain feeling in my face. I can feel more of my nose and cheeks. In fact, I think the swelling on my upper cheeks has gone back down to almost normal. I can sort of feel my neck again, and I'm starting to get more muscle control and feeling in my lips. I can actually maneuver my mouth around a spoon with food on it. I can feel how dry and chapped p

So I found out, the hard way of course, that I cannot go the entire night without taking my pain medications. It surprised me how much of my face I could actually feel but wasn't. Surprised me in a bad way. I only have three days worth of that nectar left. After that, I'm on my own. So, you know, let's hope this stop hurting in three days. The swelling feels like it went back up, but I think that's partly because of last night. I didn't ice it for very long and I didn't really take any medicine on time. I won't be doing that today. Today, I think I'm going to rake some leaves or something. My stamina is, I admit, pretty embarrassing, so that may be all I do today besides walk around the house and play video games. I'm trying my best not to fall into what would absolutely be my usual routine of misery, self-pity, and trying to rapidly form self-destructive habits with all of the addictive medications I've been prescribed. But it's pr

The swelling is starting to go down, but it's not quite at a manageable level. I'm doing my best not to be entirely useless and pathetic by staying as active and positive as possible. But, admittedly, I'm feeling pretty terrible. I did a lot of walking around outside today, and I swept the front walkway. And both of those activities left me winded. I feel sick and fatigued. Frail, even. I'm starting to lose weight--water weight--but it's alarming. It's just so hard to eat. Today is supposed to be the worst of it--it's all downhill from here. Well, as far as the swelling is concerned. In a few days I should be looking normal and eating a little easier. I'm just so exhausted and hungry. It's so much of a hassle to eat things, though. It takes forever and I can barely spoon things between my swollen lips. I think I'm ready for this to be over. On the bright side, grades are out just in time to ruin everybody's holidays.

As embarrassing as it is, I've decided that the only thing I can really do now is take pictures of myself every day as I heal. I had planned on doing that when I got home from the surgery, but, well, I woke up today. And I showered and took a picture. A lot of people tried to tell me it would probably be a lot like getting your wisdom teeth out. And I would smile and go along with it because I knew that it was probably absolutely nothing like getting your wisdom teeth out. And I was right. Looks like somebody just beat the shit out of me. Feels like it, too. My body feels fine, but my face feels like it just got rocked by a tank. I can't even breathe through my nose because it's clogged with blood, which is my primary memory from the hospital. The main thing I remember is blood everywhere. And I can't blow the blood out of my nose. So we'll see how well that nose vacuum of his really performs.

Well, it's been a long semester. But I survived. And, I think, things went well. I made some new friends, kept the old, and reconnected with the even older. And I'm finally feeling okay with everything. Everything is sort of, well, how it ought to be. And now it comes down to this. In a few hours I'll be on my way to Round Rock for surgery. I'm guessing it'll be a long and miserable next few months which is something I can absolutely deal with because misery is one of my favorites. I've been getting ready for it these last few days. The last dorm meal. The last breakfast meal. The last pizza. The last pie. The last this. The last that. The last nose blowing. The last tooth brushing. It's all been very dramatic, naturally. But for all the flair and show, I'm looking forward to it. It's been a long time coming. And I've spent a lot of time sitting and waiting for it. And, really, I'm ready to do all of this. Even if I can'

Curse my frail, perpetually tired body! Always fatigued and on the verge of failure. Well, no more! I have things to do. Things to study. Places to go. Things to think. And, so, bring on the NyQuil.

You know the feeling you get when everything you do seems to annoy somebody? Where you're just sort of doing your thing, maybe even trying to be lower key than usual, and they apparently just can't stand you being around? It's like you just can't do anything right. And they let you know it. It's just... I don't know. It's a great feeling.

Everybody who needs to be is home. Everybody who needs to be is far away. Everybody who needs to be is accounted for. Everybody who needs to be is, well, in my life. And I think that that's a pretty good thing. A lot of people can't say that, I think. So, I mean, I guess I'm doing alright. I'm almost not sick anymore. I've been downing Emergen-C and my beloved Tazo Calm Chamomile Tea with honey like there was no tomorrow. Although not in my beloved Jack Skellington mug because it's still in my dorm room and unfortunately filled with condoms. Or fortunately. I guess it really depends on how you look at it. I mean, I can't really drink tea out of it. But this Mucinex stuff is pretty good. I've only taken three and I'm feeling so much better that I can barely believe it. But, on a tangent, I realized that I'm going to miss something more than chewing. Because I won't be able to do it. I won't be able to blow my nose. I'

"Oh my God," she shrieked. She extended her finger at me and made a couple of snapping motions as she struggled to think of the name she was looking for. I knew exactly what was coming. Because I hear it more than I like. "You look like John Cusack! An Asian John Cusack!" I smiled and nodded. Somebody asked who John Cusack was. It was me, for the duration of the party. And now I'm sick. I hate being sick. The congestion that makes me sound like an idiot when I talk and stops me from singing. The runny nose that's raw from all the nose blowing and making me sniffle like an ass all day. All the medications to take. I think I need to quit taking medicine for a while. I took it all out of my bags. It's too tempting and it's going to mess me up. It is messing me up. I mean how pathetic is it to have a thing for ibuprofen? I'm always telling myself how I'm too smart to end up like my grandmother while I down Advil like candy. I ha

I just had a strange dream. John and Chang moved back into the dorms together and lived in Jester. Then Jester suffered through some sort of natural disaster, ruining many of the rooms. John and Chang's room had half the floor collapse at an angle and all the furniture drifted down against the wall, making the floor collapse at an even greater angle. Then part of the ceiling collapsed and you could see into the room above. And Ashley and I were trying to help them evacuate the room and pack up their belongings so that they could move into my room, which wasn't affected. UT couldn't move anybody into different rooms. Meanwhile, Kim was studying abroad in the Philippines, and we had her on Skype pretty much the whole time. Ashley was super upset because her phone got broken during the disaster and she was walking around crying all the time. And then something else happened that I can't remember that made her cry more. And I was trying to help John and Chang out and

Well, class is over. And I'll tell you: it certainly doesn't feel like it. Last lectures that felt like lightning strikes, a class final that felt like an ant bite, and snow somewhere in the middle of it. Well, not really snow. It was more like a light flurry of white things drifting lazily through the sky. I walked out of the test room forty minutes early and stood in the middle of the street for a moment, enjoying my solitude. The wind whipped my coat around my legs and the snow curled around me. For a brief second I wasn't trapped in the claustrophobic vastness of campus. I was, you know, somewhere a little more poetic. And then one of those golf cart things drove by.

Well, here it is. It feels like it's been such a long, trying semester. And also kind of brief. Did we start school last week or last decade kind of thing. But it all comes down to this. Tomorrow is the last day of school. Last day of earth materials. Last day of organic chemistry. Last day of sedimentary rocks. Last sedimentary rocks test. There's a lot of talk fluttering about concerning snow tomorrow. Some people were hoping that it would snow tomorrow and that classes would get canceled. I hope they don't get canceled. I have a fucking test to take. And I don't want to take that next week. Or blow it off. So come rain or shine, blizzard or flood, hell or super hell know this: I will want to go to class with every fiber of my being. It doesn't even feel like the end of the year. I'm done with all my appointments now. No more oral surgeon appointments, no more orthodontist appointments. "We'll see you next year!" The staff smiled

I must've slept off the sickness during the ten hours I spent comatose last night. Because I feel better. And I'm not super worried about everything, because It's all manageable. And tomorrow I get to dress up all fancy like. Which is always exciting. I mean, how could I not enjoy dressing up and donning my fedora? And it might even snow on Friday. Might. I've totally not been pulling my weight on these comics these last few days. I drew this in a rush. I could say it's because of my busy, busy schedule but that is just the excuse I use to mask the fact that I have terrible time management skills. And also terrible temporal perception. But, I mean, you know. Yeah. Classes are almost over. Just two more days, two more tests, and then I get a weekend and a full week to study for my last two finals. It's so close that I would be able to taste it if this semester hadn't completely dulled all of my senses and broken me from the free-spirited misanthro

I'm worried about everything again. It's not just the one thing. It's this and that on top of this compounded with that and encompassed by all of it. I can't sleep but I'm exhausted and I can't eat but I'm hungry and everything gets all twisted up and confused and I'm just spinning in circles. And it all bleeds over into everything else until I can't do anything. I can't focus on any one thing. I can't just calm down and breathe. It's all panic, all the time. Fuuuck. December was supposed to start off great, but I'm wringing the water out of my shoes and trying to warm up and study and relax and not stress out about everything. It's just not fair. None of it. I just need something to hate about myself, I guess. It's the masochist coming out. But then she's on the peripherals catching the collateral flak and it's just not great. And I have a test tomorrow and the day after and the day after and then finals