Journal Entry, Day One.
Breathing.
I’m having difficulty remembering I have to breathe. Before it was more an instinct, optional? I could if I wanted to, but it was forced, something remembered from before that I did when I was upset or overtaxed. It happened every great once in a while of its own volition, of course (I always thought of my condition as a low level grade of life, so the body needed to do the basic things once in a great while). But now? I must every few seconds simply to EXIST and I’m embarrassed to admit I’m forgetting. Of course, with no air I end up getting light headed. I nearly passed out in my oatmeal this morning, and wasn’t that a lesson in humility. Jak never would have let me live that down.
Lesson of the day, breathe. No truly, breathe you dolt of a woman. This should not be difficult.
The Difficulties Of Being People
Moderator: Guild Officer
The Difficulties Of Being People
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.
Re: The Difficulties Of Being People
Journal Entry, Day Two.
Delicate Matters.
Jak's been kind enough to take some leave time to ensure I don't kill myself these first few days. It's sweet of him, of course, but there are times I wish he'd just gone to work and let me figure it out on my own. Some of this is just embarrassing. Take for example what happened just after lunch. I am absolutely positive he's going to laugh about this one for days, and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it. I suppose in his shoes I'd do the same, but it does make me want to strangle him a little.
Breakfast went well, all things considered. I didn't pass out, I've been remembering to breathe which is an improvement. I did however forget about a certain part of the human condition that is less than pretty. When one hasn't had a full bladder in . . . oh . . . seven years, and one DIED in between and has minimal memories of before, one forgets what that /awful/ pressure is and how it can turn to burning if it's not addressed. I'm such a nit; I truly thought something was wrong with me. Jak did too, I think, because he began asking questions when I started shifting and twitching. I assured him I was all right (though truth be told I didn't think I was all right - I thought something had gone awry and I was going to expire). When I threw myself off of the couch and started pacing, trying to figure what the problem was, and honestly convincing myself I had to go see Freya to ASK, I think i must have moved in a way that suggested . . . well, that I had to go. It may have been the slight hopping? Which was not elegant in the least, but I think he'd mentioned he'd seen a three year old doing that at the market once when she needed . . .
Well, it didn't matter. He was right of course, and I rushed to the restroom. It's difficult to complete one's business when the love of your life is hysterically laughing on the couch in the other room. I think I'm cross with him still, but I can't tell. More later.
Delicate Matters.
Jak's been kind enough to take some leave time to ensure I don't kill myself these first few days. It's sweet of him, of course, but there are times I wish he'd just gone to work and let me figure it out on my own. Some of this is just embarrassing. Take for example what happened just after lunch. I am absolutely positive he's going to laugh about this one for days, and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it. I suppose in his shoes I'd do the same, but it does make me want to strangle him a little.
Breakfast went well, all things considered. I didn't pass out, I've been remembering to breathe which is an improvement. I did however forget about a certain part of the human condition that is less than pretty. When one hasn't had a full bladder in . . . oh . . . seven years, and one DIED in between and has minimal memories of before, one forgets what that /awful/ pressure is and how it can turn to burning if it's not addressed. I'm such a nit; I truly thought something was wrong with me. Jak did too, I think, because he began asking questions when I started shifting and twitching. I assured him I was all right (though truth be told I didn't think I was all right - I thought something had gone awry and I was going to expire). When I threw myself off of the couch and started pacing, trying to figure what the problem was, and honestly convincing myself I had to go see Freya to ASK, I think i must have moved in a way that suggested . . . well, that I had to go. It may have been the slight hopping? Which was not elegant in the least, but I think he'd mentioned he'd seen a three year old doing that at the market once when she needed . . .
Well, it didn't matter. He was right of course, and I rushed to the restroom. It's difficult to complete one's business when the love of your life is hysterically laughing on the couch in the other room. I think I'm cross with him still, but I can't tell. More later.
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.
Re: The Difficulties Of Being People
Journal Entry, Day Three
The Hazards of Tub Going.
So I can drown. I didn't, of course, or I'd not be writing this right now, but I think somewhere along the line I got used to submerging myself in the tub and just lounging about under water. That worked for approximately forty seconds today and then I felt pressure on my chest and in my temples. I opened my mouth and swallowed about forty gallons of water.
I came up sputtering and coughing. Dog thought this was spectacular. Sometimes I hate that canine. (All right I don't, but I think about hating him).
This lesson was quickly learned: float, don't sink.
Also, human waste is utterly disgusting no matter its guise.
The Hazards of Tub Going.
So I can drown. I didn't, of course, or I'd not be writing this right now, but I think somewhere along the line I got used to submerging myself in the tub and just lounging about under water. That worked for approximately forty seconds today and then I felt pressure on my chest and in my temples. I opened my mouth and swallowed about forty gallons of water.
I came up sputtering and coughing. Dog thought this was spectacular. Sometimes I hate that canine. (All right I don't, but I think about hating him).
This lesson was quickly learned: float, don't sink.
Also, human waste is utterly disgusting no matter its guise.
Last edited by Yva on Thu Sep 24, 2009 12:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.
Re: The Difficulties Of Being People
Journal Entry Four.
Hunger.
Hunger feels like having the plague. Who knew? Denne was asking in the channel (lovely dwarf, that girl, truly) IF I'd eaten, and of course I had, but apparently the when of things was the more important matter. Three times a day. THREE TIMES. Who knew people were such utter sows!
At this rate I'll get fat.
(Oh gods, never. NEVER. I'm going to experiment with sugar free recipes starting immediately. Jak will have to live.)
Feliche was good enough to give me fish last night and the night before, ensuring I was doing well enough, and Aelflaed said she'd help me should the pangs get even more uncomfortable. Bloody FELLS had the audacity to suggest I had GAS. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded awful, and then I found out it meant flatulance. Which is REVOLTING. People are far, far more disgusting than I remembered.
I love it regardless. Jak seems to, as well, but that's . . . well, that's another matter all together.
Hunger.
Hunger feels like having the plague. Who knew? Denne was asking in the channel (lovely dwarf, that girl, truly) IF I'd eaten, and of course I had, but apparently the when of things was the more important matter. Three times a day. THREE TIMES. Who knew people were such utter sows!
At this rate I'll get fat.
(Oh gods, never. NEVER. I'm going to experiment with sugar free recipes starting immediately. Jak will have to live.)
Feliche was good enough to give me fish last night and the night before, ensuring I was doing well enough, and Aelflaed said she'd help me should the pangs get even more uncomfortable. Bloody FELLS had the audacity to suggest I had GAS. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded awful, and then I found out it meant flatulance. Which is REVOLTING. People are far, far more disgusting than I remembered.
I love it regardless. Jak seems to, as well, but that's . . . well, that's another matter all together.
Last edited by Yva on Wed Sep 23, 2009 10:08 am, edited 1 time in total.
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.
Re: The Difficulties Of Being People
Journal Entry - Undated.
Apparently, my rampant crabbiness and swelling is supposed to happen.
Aely informed me that I, Yva Darrows, will be getting a monthly. I hadn’t thought about it much. I’m aware of how a body works, but there are symptoms of functions that I’m not relating to immediately and it’s frustrating. Strange, I know, but when you see other people doing something, you can clinically diagnose it: “yawning means tired!” etc, etc. When it’s you for the first time (first I can remember at least), associating the sensation related TO yawning, well that’s quite another story.
I’m proud to say I understand stomach grumbling as hungry, yawning as tired, and . . . well, there are other things I won’t discuss as they’re disgusting. Sweating is annoying. How DO people tolerate this?
At any rate, this monthly thing is just tedious. I suppose swelling up top to the point that my cup runneth over, bloating like a dead fish so my pants barely fit, and sniping at Jak so hard yesterday he looked at me like I’d grown fangs should have clued me in WHAT was awry (well, that and demanding he go get me one of the bakery’s pretzels - he looked mildly horrified by that, but gods bless him he did go. There’s a reason I love that man) but I didn’t make the association until last night. Of course, suggesting that it’s imminent does mean I’m “lacking a bairn” as she put it, which is one way to look at it.
I’m drinking tea and sulking this morning, though of course I won’t admit to the sulking part. That wouldn’t be dignified.
Ugh. This bloody /sucks/.
Apparently, my rampant crabbiness and swelling is supposed to happen.
Aely informed me that I, Yva Darrows, will be getting a monthly. I hadn’t thought about it much. I’m aware of how a body works, but there are symptoms of functions that I’m not relating to immediately and it’s frustrating. Strange, I know, but when you see other people doing something, you can clinically diagnose it: “yawning means tired!” etc, etc. When it’s you for the first time (first I can remember at least), associating the sensation related TO yawning, well that’s quite another story.
I’m proud to say I understand stomach grumbling as hungry, yawning as tired, and . . . well, there are other things I won’t discuss as they’re disgusting. Sweating is annoying. How DO people tolerate this?
At any rate, this monthly thing is just tedious. I suppose swelling up top to the point that my cup runneth over, bloating like a dead fish so my pants barely fit, and sniping at Jak so hard yesterday he looked at me like I’d grown fangs should have clued me in WHAT was awry (well, that and demanding he go get me one of the bakery’s pretzels - he looked mildly horrified by that, but gods bless him he did go. There’s a reason I love that man) but I didn’t make the association until last night. Of course, suggesting that it’s imminent does mean I’m “lacking a bairn” as she put it, which is one way to look at it.
I’m drinking tea and sulking this morning, though of course I won’t admit to the sulking part. That wouldn’t be dignified.
Ugh. This bloody /sucks/.
Last edited by Yva on Thu Sep 24, 2009 12:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.
Re: The Difficulties Of Being People
Journal Entry.
Jak decided to broach the baby thing last night. Aely had made mention of earthroot tea the night before (if the fogginess of my memory is correct). He did too, on the eventual, and it seems that will be something I take daily? I tried it for the first time today and it tastes like brewed rot. Perhaps Aely will have some other herbs to put in there that will make it less horrid. I had to pinch my nose just to swallow the stuff.
In the process of discussing how not to become parents, Jak simply HAD to embarrass me. No one TALKS about those things, do they? Where to put what substance and/or parts into which recess or . . . it's indecent. My mother told me that intimacies were for the doing, not the blathering about, and I tend to agree. Nothing good comes of it. It's not ladylike. I think there was a little bit too much fun had by my better half as he explained the things doable without tea versus the things doable with. I was aware of them, of course, but the way he'd broached the subject was utterly confusing. He was saying location like he meant the floor or the desk or the tub in lieu of the bed, but what he really meant was anatomical location. Who knew? I may have snapped at him and made him think that being explicit was the best way to get his point across, but all things considered I was not feeling well, and he KNEW that. He should have been subtler. Clearly my embarrassment was his fault. The dogs agreed, too. Flaadhun even left at one point, disgusted by Jakob's presentation.
Bloody men.
(Oh, the daft thing even suggested the possibility of separate beds, though I think that was just to goad me. It's like he enjoys my anger. I nearly twisted his ear off for it. He deserved that, too.)
Jak decided to broach the baby thing last night. Aely had made mention of earthroot tea the night before (if the fogginess of my memory is correct). He did too, on the eventual, and it seems that will be something I take daily? I tried it for the first time today and it tastes like brewed rot. Perhaps Aely will have some other herbs to put in there that will make it less horrid. I had to pinch my nose just to swallow the stuff.
In the process of discussing how not to become parents, Jak simply HAD to embarrass me. No one TALKS about those things, do they? Where to put what substance and/or parts into which recess or . . . it's indecent. My mother told me that intimacies were for the doing, not the blathering about, and I tend to agree. Nothing good comes of it. It's not ladylike. I think there was a little bit too much fun had by my better half as he explained the things doable without tea versus the things doable with. I was aware of them, of course, but the way he'd broached the subject was utterly confusing. He was saying location like he meant the floor or the desk or the tub in lieu of the bed, but what he really meant was anatomical location. Who knew? I may have snapped at him and made him think that being explicit was the best way to get his point across, but all things considered I was not feeling well, and he KNEW that. He should have been subtler. Clearly my embarrassment was his fault. The dogs agreed, too. Flaadhun even left at one point, disgusted by Jakob's presentation.
Bloody men.
(Oh, the daft thing even suggested the possibility of separate beds, though I think that was just to goad me. It's like he enjoys my anger. I nearly twisted his ear off for it. He deserved that, too.)
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.