More on Dwell

Yesterday I got a migraine at the lab, left early, and waited an hour for my mom to pick me up from the train because she doesn’t think she needs to carry her cell phone with her when she goes to the grocery store. I fell asleep around dinnertime and woke up at 10:30 PM.  My head still hurt— I couldn’t medicate myself other than diclofenac and promethazine because I had already taken too many Zomigs this week— but I was really hungry so I went down to the kitchen.

There’s something funny about migraines, at least the ones I get: They either make you repulsed by food and extremely nauseous or give you cravings for the weirdest shit.  Usually it’s not anything in particular— for me it’ll be a flavor, my body is like I WANT SOMETHING SALTY! or I have an intense desire for something spicy— and last night was no different.  I ate a bagel and cream cheese for dinner and some coffee ice cream to follow.  Absentmindedly, I turned on the TV and ordered Crossroads on demand (Showtime has it for free atm).  This was a totally bizarre decision on my part.  Like I was sleeping for most of the evening, woke up, and really needed to watch Britney Spears lose her cinema-virginity and Taryn Manning lose her unborn baby?!

By the time the movie was over, my migraine was completely gone. So like, thanks Brit, I guess!

So good

I am someone who spends a lot of her life worrying about anything/everything to the point of obsession.  But as anyone with anxiety knows, there is a difference between daily minutiae and the things about which you are extremely anxious over an extended period of time.  The thing about anxiety is that it comes in waves.  No matter what I’m worried about, I’ve learned ways to distract myself, to redirect my attention.  These are the themes of the past week (August 4-11) that pervade

Thurs-Friday ~6PM:  Anxiety about Chicago/  Anxiety about seeing Dan/ Anxiety about meeting Dan’s family and staying at his house

this was manifest in my refusal to pack, refusal to sleep, and insistence on going on useless errands for seemingly random items I last minute decided to bring

Weekend: ‘Should I do drugs for lolla sunday night?’ anxiety combined with anxiety about Dan’s family caring about us having sex in their house

Sunday-Monday: onset of my anxiety about leaving chicago, about my trip being over after so much anticipation/ the realization that the next time we’ll be together, it’s at school, and having anxiety over the fact that he’s living in the sammy house and we’ll be busier at school and our relationship will inevitably change significantly

Monday: anxiety about whether or not dan was going to work on Tuesday and intense depression about having to go home/exhaustion from rolling sunday night and not sleeping

Tuesday: more anxiety about going home, anxiety about how I was going to get to the airport, anxiety about our status as a couple

Wednesday: general airport anxiety, as I took two planes in one day (from O’Hare to PHL and PHL to Las Vegas)

Thursday: Anxiety about whether or not I am pregnant, because I fucked up my birth control last week before lolla and we didn’t use condoms at all, all weekend…. which was eased when I (sort of?) got my period late this afternoon

I’m flying to O’Hare at 4:30 to go to the second two days of Lollapalooza in Chicago. Having never been to a music festival before, let alone Lolla, and having anticipated this weekend since May (when I left college— i’m also visiting my pseudo-boyfriend on this trip, so it’s extra anxiety-inducing/exciting) I’m going to write about what I envision this weekend to be.

Lollapalooza will be a hellish plane ride on a shitty airline.  Spirit airlines gives you the least amount of leg room that is legally allowed.  I’m departing from the atlantic city airport and I live in Philadelphia.  This means an hour and a half car ride, two hours with traffic.  Spirit has no customer service whatsoever.  If I’m held up by anything, I could potentially miss Lollapalooza completely.

Lollapalooza will be in an architecturally stunning Midwestern city (that I’ve never visited, save college visits to Northwestern/Uchicago which don’t count).  The food will be great.  It will be really hot. People will be sweaty and gross.  But they’ll be friendly! It’s the midwest! I come from the east coast— people are so rude here.  In Philly, you get yelled at when you hesitate making a food order at Pat’s cheese steaks and booed at if you perform for us.  Even if you’re Santa Claus. What’s up with Philly???

Lollapalooza will be really good people watching.  People will be fashionable! Aren’t people fashionable at these music festivals? Sometimes pictures come up on my news feed from Coachella or Ultra, and people are either dressed like a crazy celebrity on a lot of prescription medication in huge sunglasses and a fringe-y top, or something crazy and rave-y that makes them look ridiculous and usually a little fat.  Even if they’re not.  I’m not planning to dress like that, but I know it’ll be swelteringly hot, so I am going to wear a bathing suit top under my clothes.  Am I buying into the ‘music festival aesthetic?’ Am I conforming to the branding?

Lollapalooza will be good music that I probably won’t be able to enjoy because of the heat and the sweaty bodies.  I know this is a pessimistic way to look at it but I get migraines and I know that a day of standing around in the heat is going to affect me negatively.  However, I’m very excited for some of the acts and I think that doing certain drugs (and not drinking alcohol, which makes me really sick in heat) will get rid of my misanthropic people-hating mindset.

Lollapalooza will be awkward because I’m sleeping for five nights at Daniel’s house in Evanston. Ugh, I’m so socially anxious about this part.  I have to meet his parents and little brother.  Hey mom and dad, this girl is going to sleep with me for the next five nights! Hope you’re cool with that! And by the way, we’re spending our weekend rolling and tripping at lolla, hope you’re cool with that too! Hopefully I can keep my shit together enough to impress them like I usually do with adults with my impressive knowledge of literature and current events.  Also, they are coming back from France today, and I know French! That’s impressive, right? Plus my sister just studied abroad in Paris last semester? So there’s some common ground.  Okay, I’m fucked, whatever…

I’ll do a follow up post at some point but I’m going to Vegas (???!!) to celebrate my grandmother’s 80th birthday (looool) so it may be extra delayed.

i am trying to break your heart

We all know the Wilco song— the first off Yankee Hotel Foxtrot— but the other night, a particularly hip 50 year old family friend showed me this cover by JC Brooks & the uptown sound…. And it’s been playing in my head ever since.  A steady, up beat completely changes the song (plus he repeats the refrain, “i am trying to break your heart,” as a chorus as opposed to at the end of the 6+ minute wilco song)

http://www.npr.org/2011/07/10/137729422/denver-newspaper-hires-professional-pot-critic

But the question is, how productive could he possibly be writing reviews of medical marijuana dispensaries when he’s high all the time?

NPR covered the story of William Breathes (sic), a pseudonym which allows him to “remain anonymous to the businesses he reviews,” in this article— in which Breathes, whose medicinal use of marijuana treats his “chronic stomach pain,” admits he uses it recreationally as well.  Is this news, really? Is NPR just trying to make the rest of us jealous of this guy’s job working for Denver’s “alternative newspaper,” or describing a genuinely interesting and worthwhile topic?

As the field of journalism dries out, layoffs loom, and any blogger considers them a viable candidate for a legit “journalism” position, it’s incredible that any small newspaper has the budget for a weed reviewer.

Here is what Gawker had to say (which is how I found the story): 

http://gawker.com/5819894/denver-weed-critic-has-best-job-in-journalism