Learning To Live

My Mother. That's all I have to say for this evening. HUGE HUGE HUGE fucking news from the CF Foundation, but this is a long long long story, and I don't want to get into it tonight when I'm not clear-headed.

Emotional pain. It's so much worse than any physical pain I've ever had to deal with. And believe me, I've been through my share of physical pain - pain so bad it makes me grumpy and want to throw things at people. Pain so bad that the pain the pain medication causes is tolerable compared to the pain I had in the first place. This is serious fucking physical pain I've been through. Pain so bad that having them stick a 1 inch needle through several layers of breast tissue once a month is nothing, having blood drawn is less than nothing, and checking my blood sugar? You mean I'm supposed to feel that? This is the girl who flips fish sticks and chicken nuggets hot out of the oven with her bare hands because it doesn't hurt. I regularly shower in hot water that turns my skin the color of cooked lobster, and none of this is physical pain. Physical pain is migraine headaches - but I can sleep through those. Physical pain is all the joints in my body hurting eve...

That's right. I just spent more than $200 on makeup. Oh. My. God. I need to rationalize this. Lena invited me to a facial party - and it was fun, although I was sleepy, I was excited and I love being pampered and being made to feel like I too can feel like a human being some days. And my skin can also be ever so soft. I NEED that travel bag for Europe so I don't have to find another toiletries bag. I NEED that sunscreen/moisturizer for Europe, and if I didn't buy things the way I did, I wouldn't have gotten the travel bag I need. I need a new cleanser, since the one I have - well, in the last couple months I've given up on washing my face. Showering every couple days is good enough, right? Right. Wrong. I need to actually wash my face before and after I sleep and mush it in with a pile of drool on my pillows. The mascara was just TOO fabulous to resist! As was the lip balm and the eye shadow and bronzer and and and... Dear God don't tell my mother how mu...

I have joined the land of the dieters, and from this point forward I will always have an unhealthy relationship with food, just like every other US Citizen, or at least the ones they show on TV. I don't think I'm meaning to starve myself, but my body thinks I am and has started to revolt in horrible ways. Hunger pains, digestive problems, threatening a coup. I'm really tired of this fucking diet. I think it backfires. The other night I ate 3/4 of a frozen pizza I was so hungry. I wish I could eat like that and still be skinny the way I used to be - well, not quite that skinny. About 10 pounds lighter than I am now (which is my goal to lose before Italy so I can gain it all back by eating HUGE amounts of food there, because food is generally better in Europe. There is nothing like eating in Eruope. I want to move to Europe and just eat for the rest of my life. Of course, because I am a strange American hybrid and not a European gal by birth, the clothing and shoes do...

*Apparently I can't sleep knowing I might have hurt my brother's feelings with something he hasn't read. Damn my mother and her ability to implant thoughts into my head. *Thank God my mother doesn't do computers. She'd be all over my ass all the time about this stupid thing, saying I'm too "mean" (which is what she told me today when I told her how I metaphorically or hyperbolically said that in a line up of balls (mainly sports balls), my brother could only pick out his own). Man, she's going to hate me when I get published. She already hates reading my book because she "doesn't get it." *Why isn't my brother answering his phone at midnight? I should call him one, or five, or thirty more times just to make sure he's alive.

*Today I went to my fourth funeral since September. It would have been five, but I couldn't make one b/c it was in my former hometown. Four of five said deaths have been to people who shouldn't have died so young. 1. My psychiatrist who was so amazingly brilliant. He was in his early 50s and died during a triathlon. I like to call him my "Psychiatric Med Angel" because here on earth he was one of two who could fix me. The other one is my father, who not only fixes me psychiatrically, but in all ways medical. 2. A classmate from former hometown who (if I remember correctly) was 19 and just collapsed. I used dance as an excuse not to go back to my hometown and see all the people I really wouldn't want to see. Not that I don't love some of them dearly, this kid included, but some of them are the reason I don't lay claim to my hometown very often. 3. A friend/mentor with CF who was 45. Had a double lung transplant, was doing okay with that, and then got...

Stupid People. I mean tragically stupid people. I went to the pharmacy this afternoon after I had been to breakfast by myself, a funeral and a dance practice. I arrived and groaned when I realized the pharmacist I can't stand was working. I can't stand her because she is stupid. Everyone at this pharmacy knows me. I am in there at least once a week. They know me. They know my name from running the 20ish prescriptions I get filled every month. They Just Know Me. End of story. So I walk up to the counter and the woman, we'll call her Stupid, says , "Be with you in a moment" in her foreign accent. I seriously doubt this woman is a pharmacist trained in the US because her English is THAT poor. Well finally after several moments (and I'm exhausted and want to cry from exhaustion and I just want to sit and I have to keep standing) Stupid asks, "What's the last name?" I give her my last name and the first two letters, in case she can't sou...

That was just a reminder of why you need to call the gyno. You're not supposed to spontaneously combust into a pool of blood. Let's figure out why this happens. Also, call the people from the CF Foundation - that was the same train of thought, I swear.

There is a situation just BEGGING to be blogged about. It's about me. And maybe another person or two. But the main reason I'm keeping my mouth shut is to preserve my own dignity, because clearly the dignity of others CAN and WILL be sacrificed for the sake of my wit. Seriously, if this wouldn't bump me down several notches on the "what my friends and loved ones think of me scale" I would TOTALLY be ALL OVER writing about it. Not that most of what I've already written hasn't bumped me down a bit with anyone respectable, but this would TOTALLY ruin my street cred. Do I have street cred? Well if I do, I would lose it all if I blogged about the thing I'm DYING to blog about. Maybe in a couple years (months, weeks, days) I'll get over this "caring about what people think of me" syndrome and then I will write about it... cuz it's good, my friends, oh so fucking good.

I needed a few laughs today. So this is what is making me smile today: Rocky Horror with Bunnies Spontaneous Musical David Sedaris - LOVE THIS MAN I want to BE David Sedaris - a brilliant gay man. My Favorite Blog (even better than my own). My favorite blog is MAGICAL - the woman is pure fucking brilliance. I want to be that good someday. I'll get there - I'm still young. I am sad to admit, but I am working my way forward through ALL the archives on this site - all nearly 300 pages of archives. It's the most I've read in years. I'm more than half done, too - I don't know what I'll do when I get to the beginning (keep up on it daily, obviously), but it will be a bittersweet day. Aw she's written a book! I'm in LUCK!!! It comes out the end of April, the approximate date of finishing reading her blog! I'm thinking of blogging a little, reading a little, knitting a little and turning in for bed.

That are hard to deal with. I learned a friend of mine, who had CF passed away yesterday. He was 31 and decided a couple weeks ago he didn't want to fight anymore. That's only 10 years older than me. I really don't know what to say, except at least he isn't suffering anymore. The friend of mine who called to tell me, informed me that she tried to commit suicide on St. Patrick's day and is now in a partial hospitalization grief counseling program - and all I can say is at least she's feeling better. For her, I hope she deals with not only her grief better, but her outlook on life. There's only so much I can do to help someone see all the things they can still do and how wonderful life can be. This will be my fourth funeral since September (I knew a fifth person who died, but couldn't make it to my hometown for the service), and each one reminds me how lucky I am to still be able to do the things I love and to be with the people I love. Life is preci...

* Today is ugly. Which means it's a good day to relax in bed and catch up on sleep I missed because of the... *FOUR HOUR PHONE CALL... It was an Olympic marathon in the phone call world. I have never talked on the phone for that long before - I was talking to one of my teammates and it was fun. Apparently we really both like to talk and fill each other in on everything we know about everyone else. Just call me Gossip Queen. Not malicious gossip - just letting people know the truth about everyone else. It's in my genes - my grandmothers on both sides were gossip queens, and when my mother used to talk to people, she too was a gossip queen. *It's pretending to snow out - it should just quit and be sunny already.

* I deal really well with pressure. The urge to kill and maim people arises when something stressful happens. Don't stress me out. * This is my little dance related rant - it has nothing to do with the people involved, so don't get all critical on my ass, but the situation BLOWS CHUNKS. We have 12 couples to dance - I set up partners and all was right with the world. Then my captain (I'm Vice-Captain... don't get me started on the "Vice" thing... I'd prefer "Co" or "2nd in command" or "The one with a little less power but a louder voice" or "The Lord High Everything Else" but I got "Vice-Captain") kept looking for NEW people to join the formation AFTER the partners were set to 12 couples and the world was happy. Then, a month to three weeks before we perform these two new people come (and I love them as people), and I don't want them to dance because I don't want to fuck up our little happy (a...

Today I was on the phone with my best friend in the ENTIRE WORLD. She and I will someday rule this crazy land together and have a cult-like following. She is my other half and has been since Kindergarten - ever since I saw her at that movie theater, and in true Carla style, went over to say "hi" and scared the shit out of her. I, being Carla, assumed she would know who I was because we spent every morning together, and therefore I already considered her my friend. Then one fateful afternoon I would go to her house, she would give me a tour, play me "The Rainbow Connection" on her record player, and then it was time to go home. But on that day a wonderful friendship became a bonding at the hip, and I learned how cool the record player is. While I was on the phone with my beloved friend, complaining about boys and dance, I noticed the sound of sirens and cop cars whizzing by my place. I stood in awe. Cop cars, on my street? This never happens. And then a fire ...

Peanut butter M&Ms or the fantastically amazing gummi bears? Or BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. Life is good.

My goal in life is to "Live like you were dying" because I am. I have no idea how long these lungs are going to last me, so I live everyday doing things I love (during the time I'm awake), but I don't mind my naps, either. I quite rather enjoy them. I know because I know I'm 'dying' I see the world differently. I'm not going to have 80 years total. Well maybe I will. There might be a cure or a way to make lung transplants better or something, but I can't count on it. So I do things fast. Really fast. Even when I say I want to slow down, I mean slow down in Carla terms, which is still usually faster than the way other people do things. For example, when I was sick and living at home in that home town we don't mention anymore, I decided I NEEDED to move back to my city - the city I love. And about two months later I was moved in. It helps that my mother doesn't fool around when making decisions either, but I do my share of pushing t...

As noted in the previous post, I am learning to use the Ctrl-Z. It is my new best friend, and I think we're close to getting engaged and setting a date. Lord knows I haven't had success in dating REAL people (well, the real-ness of the people I have dated is debatable, but that is another post altogether), so I might as well date a keyboard function. I once was in a serious relationship with my chemistry book. That was a good relationship, until I had to drop out of chemistry, and then the book felt abandoned and we had problems. Anyways, that's not what this post has to do with at all. In this post I'm going to tell you the most outrageous CF story I have heard recently. I know this mother (we'll call her T, since I don't have permission to talk about her on my blog) and she and I served on the Great Strides committee two years ago. Her son has CF and she raised more than $10,000 for the Foundation (and that's a conservative estimate). Recently T and h...

*Ew. What is this gunk on my keyboard? I could guess but you probably don't want to hear my guess. Snot or Mucus. That's my guess. I told you anyways. *I am redecorating my room (this is a common occurance in my life, the redecorating. Usually it involves moving heavy furniture, but 1. I can no longer move heavy furniture on my own, and 2. I really can't think of a different way to arrange any of the rooms - *tear). *I LOVE the art I created yesterday. Here are the four pieces I created (from photos I took - isn't it great to take photos of photos you've taken???): This is my rose teapot glass guy. I'd like to feature him more noticeably, but I don't know where or how, since it is breakable and I am likely to break breakables. These are the four pieces of art hung on my bedroom wall. Compared to the ugly ass poster that was there before, these are magnificent gems and I love to look at them while curled up in my bed, because I am amazingly talented (...

I got dropped on my head tonight at dance practice. I also got dropped on Saturday, but at least I was close to the floor, and my partner hasn't dropped me since, so I forgive him. My point is that I was incredibly sore Sunday from it, and tonight's drop was much worse. I got dropped from the point when I started to lean back, and all I can say is that it is going to hurt like hell tomorrow. And this is the reason I have nothing witty to say this evening.

I'm posting this again. It's important. See big font? Means it's important, so pay attention. Great Strides 2008 Hello Everyone! I’d like to invite you to help me raise money for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation! As you probably know, this cause is very dear to me not only because I have CF, but because I know so many wonderful people who also have CF. This is the montage I made for the 2008 walk: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlNj_RKhJi8 Cystic fibrosis is a devastating genetic disease that affects children, young adults, and even a few old adults. Advances continue to be made in finding a cure, but your help is needed now - more than ever - to help keep up the momentum of this life-saving research. Too many young lives depend on this vital research to let it go unfunded! GREAT STRIDES is the Cystic Fibrosis (CF) Foundation's largest and most successful national fund-raising event. This year, I'm walking in the GREAT STRIDES event at the Madison s...

Do I watch a movie in bed and risk falling asleep, or do I watch a movie on the couch and risk falling asleep?

Last night I wrote that post with the YouTube videos, and it made me sad. Then I got THIS comment, and it made me happy. I was never saying you shouldn't go ahead with transplant - Hell yes I'm waiting for my new pair of lungs (even though I'm not that sick, I still look ahead and think about transplant). So today when I went to get my port flushed, I was thinking about all the things I can still do when I'm healthy (and some even when I'm not). So here's my list of Things I Can Still Do: *Walk without oxygen! *Sleep without oxygen! *Walk up a flight of stairs! *Walk down many flights of stairs! *Shower on my own! *Do my home IVs when I need to *DANCE! (maybe not for huge amounts of time, but I can dance) *Skip for short distances! *Do the dishes *Fold laundry (doing it is hard, but folding not so much) *Breathe. I don't have to have O2 while I'm sitting. So life is still good.

In case of emergency I have: 1 shovel 1 windbreaker 2 books on Pierce Brosnen 1 Blender 1 Tennis racket 1 Witch hat 1 Bike pump 1 Pile of used wrapping paper 1 Copy of the What Women Want soundtrack 1 Copy of The Best of the Monkeys As you can see, I am very well prepared for the end of the world. God forbid the world end and the only CDs I'm left with are those. I might die.

While napping today I had a nightmare. I hate nightmares more than anything. They usually affect me for hours or days after, and prevent me from sleeping. My nightmares are not normal nightmares. I am reliving horrible parts in my life - usually high school - and it's not pretty. I wake up shaking or crying and I just can't stop thinking about it. Today I was dreaming, and the dream started out where a strange person was putting notes under the front door, and by the time I would get to the door the person would be gone. I had to go driving around to try and find this person. It was awful - but the worst part was I was driving around and had to lie about things that happened in high school - someone was making it my fault, and I woke up thinking it was my fault, and that is still bothering me. And now I've found a YouTube video that is so sad. This girl lost her battle with CF at 19... in September 2007. And then I am reminded how precious my life is - I'm almo...

* Wheel Chair for Italy (should arrive this week) * Purse for Italy. * Photo scanner. I'd like to do some digital scrapbooking, more montaging, etc. (Montaging is a word???) * Seasons 4 & 5 of The L Word on DVD * I need to put TV from Compy on DVDs * A publisher for my book/editor for my book/someone with any interest in my book (besides me) * More traffic for the blog??? I want this thing to be bigger, but I don't know if I have the talent. * Money. haha. * To be a little kid - little kids are much better to pull at heart strings for fund raising. *le sigh* * To find a normal sleep pattern so I don't stay up until 2 am writing lists.

Why does my mom insist on telling me everything about all the sports she's watching. Does she not notice that I'm allergic to sports? I played that one season of basketball in eighth grade, and when I say "played" I mean "sat on the bench," and I only joined the team because my two best friends did. I sat out and sucked my inhaler the entire season. I just don't get how she hasn't caught on yet. I'm not a sports gal, Mom. You got two girly girls for children. My brother and I just aren't sports people. I can recognize a basketball in a lineup of other balls, but the only balls Darin could pick out are his own. I'm pretty sure he knows them pretty well. My brother is the funniest human alive. We were at Home Depot last night (after a successful snarf-fest at Red Lobster mmmm....) and we walked around the store talking like this: C: "So this guy I know, we've in the past dated, well I wouldn't say dated a...

*I will go back and label my posts by relevance, since that's the cool way to blog. * Why is it just so much easier NOT to shower??? I don't have many things in my life to occupy my time, and I STILL manage to find things to do other than showering. * Retail therapy - it really works. Every time I get hurt, I buy a new purse. See my closet FULL of purses. * This year's Spring Break: Spring break. My friends worked their way though it - definitely not cool enough to sit somewhere with a margarita in one hand and Jimmy Buffet playing in the background. My friends might be cool enough to listen to Jimmy Buffet while they work, but I doubt it, since several of them didn't know why the "Cheeseburger in Paradise" restaurant was called that. I don't care. You should at least know OF Jimmy Buffet and refer to him every time you are in a Chinese Buffet or and Old Country Buffet if you were raised in this country. Don't even get me started on all the ref...

Let's see if I'm more or less clever at 2am. I went to bed at 9pm hoping to get a good night of sleep before a huge day of dancing tomorrow. May not be quite as huge if one of the kids in our two-step routine can't make it back because of the snow. Then I might hit my head against the wall because we are going to suck. Less than a month until showcase. Are you kidding me??? **** I got my mystery rash again today. I woke up and it was SNOWING - and I had a cute, adorable, irresistible spring outfit planned out. Man, was I bummed when it was snowing. I ate breakfast, got said mystery rash, and went back to bed. My brother got into a car wreck because of the snow, so I was upset because I had asked for help, and now since my brother wasn't going to be able to come down, my parents were ignoring me. My mother yells at me because doing my laundry is hard. I'm sorry I get worn out when I do laundry, but I do. That's just the way it is. I started my laundry ...

I found this , and said, "Hey, I know her!!!" Yay for more media attention on CF!!! Read it!!!

I got that rash again today, but it was weirder because I didn't cough up anything hugely noticeable, like the other two times. I was coughing, and I did get dressed before noon, but other than that everything else was different. Will someone just tell me what the hell is wrong with me so I can take a pill and get on with my life??? This having to take Benadryl shit is getting old. Benadryl makes me sooo sleepy (as if I don't already have problems staying awake). I fell asleep today while waiting for my nurse, while watching Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium, while waiting for my friend to arrive, and about a million other times I can't remember. I suck at staying awake - a thing I'm trying to get over, and the Benadryl doesn't help in any way, shape or form. **** When a girl who is much cooler than you wants to date your nerdy ass, you are not supposed to say, "But I have to do math." You are supposed to bow at her feet and do whatever she will let y...

Today, I woke up around 10:30am to the sound of my alarm. I rolled over, looked at the clock and wondered why my phone was making such a horrible noise at such an un-Godly hour of the morning. Then I remembered I had an appointment at the CF Foundation at 11:30, so I rolled my ass out of bed, begrudgingly, and threw on some clothes - probably the same outfit I wore to dance last night, but maybe with a different sweater. I can wear the same pants and bra 14 days in a row, but GOD FORBID I wear the same sweater two days in a row. Someone might notice that and make me move back to my parents because I am unable to do my own laundry at appropriate intervals. After throwing clothing on my tired body, I made my famous Eggo waffles, smothered them in syrup and sat at my computer to check my email and catch up on my morning blogs. I have the need to see who has done what in the last 12 hours while I have been in my bed. Nothing exciting, except Tracy emailed me to say that she had me do...

So while talking to a guy friend online last night, the conversation ended up where he sent me this sequence of messages: "so why are we not having sex right now :-P not in the literal sense but metaphorically" And my question is, "How do you metaphorically have sex?" Seriously, is that possible? I would like to open up a discussion about this, because I am curious.

I found THIS at http://cfhusband.blogspot.com , who found it: I found this at Breathing Deeply: My Life With Cystic Fibrosis . You may not fully enjoy/understand this unless you're a CFer or family/caregiver. I Am the Very Model of a Patient in the Hospital (to the tune of Modern Major General, from Pirates of Penzance ) ~ lyrics by Lauren and Brad Beyenhof I am the very model of a patient in the hospital I swallow every pill, if it is vitamin or mineral I know my medications and their purpose gastronomical From AquADEKs to Zithromax, in order pharmaceutical I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters anatomical I understand my PFTs; my lungs, my lobes, my bronchioles About my sinus polyps, I am teeming with a lot of news With many awful facts about the cultures from my airway tubes With many awful facts about the cultures from her airway tubes With many awful facts about the cultures from her airway tubes With many awful facts about the cultures from her airway airway tubes...

My breasts are plotting to take over the world. This also means, they are plotting against me. They are growing in size, despite my recent weight loss, and are completely out of control. I can't find things that fit me because of the breastage. Even my parents complain that the breasts tend to hang out, and they are supposed to love me despite the fact that my boobs don't fit into my tops. For example, note what happens to them when I get drunk. This is me sober: Yes, there is cleavage, but I am aware of it, and in control. And this is me drunk: The breasts are taking over. They are planning to jump out of that shirt at any moment, and I'm very surprised they didn't take advantage of my inebriated state and make a run for it. Actually, I think they are waiting until they gain a little more in size, and then will make a run for it so they can take over the world. It'll be like in that movie, with the giant BOOB - anyone have ANY idea what I'm talking about?...

This is what some jerk left for me to find: "you think i don't have cf? you think i don't deal with this every single day? why would i read your blog if i was not someone with cf... i deal with exactly what you do. we are nearly the same age, and maybe i am more able to say things to you because i don't know you, but i'm serious when i say you complain entirely too much. every day for you is a shitfest. it shouldn't be like that. i don't cry everytime my cf gets hard. i'm not saying i dont get upset sometimes but how in the world can someone complain about their life every day. there are people out there that have it far worse than us, and you need to learn to deal a little bit better." Honestly... Fuck you. I replied: "Maybe you don't get this, but most of what I say is SARCASTIC. If you don't like it - don't read my blog. There are plenty of "I don't hate this disease" CF blogs... go read them. Don't tell me ho...

It is not sunny today. That means I should sleep all day. FINALLY I have lost some weight. Those anorexics are onto something - not eating really works. My stomach really hurts (and before you say it, NO, it's not because I haven't been eating. I have been eating.) My CF is giving me abdominal problems. And I'd really just like to have my digestive organs removed. Thanks. Digestive organ-ectomy. It's a good plan. I hate Mondays. I never know what to do with my Mondays. Maybe I have the flu. I feel really sick. Owwwww... wow. I haven't had this much stomach pain in... omg I don't remember the last time I had this many digestive problems. My sinuses have died. Going back to bed seems like my best and my worst option. I have nothing creative to say. I'm going back to bed.

Note to self: Don't ever do that again. Waking up hours later because you think you heard the phone ring, and then realizing you did, and then realizing that your blood sugar has plummeted to an unusually safe and bad level is not fun. But I did satisfy my curiosity and found out what would happen. My sleep was indeed dreamless and I woke up not crying, which is an improvement. I was also able to eat dinner without crying, so I'm up to a whole 20 minutes of awake time with no crying. Have I moved out of the "Pile of Mush" stage, right past "Angry Bitch" and into "Meh, the World Sucks, I Guess I'll Just Deal???" I don't know. My brother yelled at me on the phone for drinking the Mountain Dews - yes I called him. I was trying to fall asleep and every other best friend I can call crying is on Spring Break. I called my brother. Crying. I'm sure he's sick of me and my crying by now, but up until now the tears wouldn't stop....

My response to a comment I got for being so negative about my CF: "Fuck you. I'm tired of trying to be so positive all the time. I am real. Do you think other CFers don't think this stuff? I'm the only one with the guts to write it all down. It's my blog and I'll do whatever I want with it. If you're going to criticize me, at least have the guts to let me know who you are." Seriously. I am having a hard time dealing with my CF right now, and it is my right to express it. "Think of the positive, Life will be better." Yeah, I've done that. And I'm tired of it. Right now. Things suck, and that's how I feel. In a few days I'll probably go back to being happy and "looking at the positive," but right now I just want to tell you how much my CF sucks. Because it does. So there.

Forget forbidden love, CFers have forbidden friendships too. We're not supposed to be within three feet of each other. And all we want is to talk to someone who knows what this is like. Who knows what it's like to want to be NORMAL. One time I was talking about my Dad about CF, and I referred to non-CFers as "Real Humans," and he replied, "You're a real human too." But it doesn't feel like it. My friend Brittany sent me this article that appeared in the Times today. It's brilliant, and if it had a little more sarcasm, you would think I had written it myself. Except I don't know anyone named Thomas. Forbidden Love.

I started my counter today. I'm curious about how many visitors I get. I'm also curious what several cans of mountain dew do to a diabetic. Better than alcohol - I'll pass out in a Mountain Dew coma. yesssss. Maybe I won't dream, which would be the best present to me ever. I still can't believe how much I drank last night and how little I felt it. I only got a 1/2 hour or so of being silly and not knowing what was going on. And during that time, what did I do? Played Chinese checkers. L to the AME. Lame. Not that it had anything to do with Lena or her party (the food was BEYOND fabulous. I ate way too much - maybe that's why I didn't get more drunk.) For the little time I was drunk, it never occured to me that I'm still diabetic. I was sleepy, and thanks to Chad, I was able to remember I need to check my blood sugar. He asked, "Isn't there some way you can test your blood sugar?" After I asked how many carbs are in alcohol (this...

So I thought we had agreed that the temperature would not drop below 30 anymore. Fuck you, weather, and your stupid cold.

Hi, My name is Carla and I am nothing but a giant ball of mush. I don't know what to feel -I just kind of feel empty this morning. But I have a sneaking suspicion that empty doesn't actually hurt. So maybe Mush on the Verge of Tears is more what I am. At three am last night I called my brother. I couldn't handle being by myself, so I called Darin. I told him what happened and why what happened made me so upset (something I'm not ready to actually type out yet because... oh, wait... yes. There is a tear just thinking about it), and I made him stay on the phone with me until I fell asleep. That's right. I vaguely remember the sound of him brushing his teeth, and I started singing "When you wake up in the morning, it's a quarter to one and you want to have a little fun, you brush your teeth. Ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch. You brush your teeth." Thank you Raffi. Even when I'm half asleep, I can still sing your songs in the middle of the night. I...

This is all because the Ides of March. E tu, Brutus? I want to curl up and die. Yep. Yep, I do. I'm in so much pain. Emotional pain mostly, although my sinuses are going to hurt like fucking hell because of all the crying. Well, when I need sinus surgery, I'll know who to blame. Bastard. I'm in so much emotional pain because of my CF - why do I have to go through all this other bullshit too? It'd be so much easier to curl up and die. I just wanted something to help me forget the pain for a little while, and I end up sobbing uncontrollably. I'm done with guys. DONE. D. O. N. E. DONE. I just. I. There. Words. NO. aRE. none. I may or may not continue speaking to a select few whom I deem worthy, but other than that I will not be speaking to or associating with anything male. All I wanted was the pain to ease up a little. Now I'm in more pain and I can't stop crying.

Does anyone want to help change my sheets? And by help I mean do it yourself? And wash them? And fold them? Thanks. Yeah... I don't know when my parents are coming down next, and I'd really like to put my spring sheets on my bed. (Must find boy who knows how to make a bed - note to self.) I just don't have the energy to change the bed. That makes me sad. REALLY sad.

I have too many things to write about, so here is a list of the things I will eventually, maybe want to talk about: 1. I don't care how well-traveled you are, you are still a douche bag who clearly doesn't get that I'm stranger-phobic. Also especially tie-me-up-and-rape-and-maim-me-in-a-foreign-country-phobic. 2. I don't care who you are, there are just some songs that you should know if you were raised in this country. 3. I enjoy when you know the country song playing in the bar. I thought I was the only one who would recognize it. 4. There's a big difference between recommending places to see in a foreign country and a way to see a foreign country. Do the first, not the second, Thanks. 5. I am aware that my cleavage is distracting you. It will always be there, I can't help it, and you don't have to point it out to me every 10 minutes. It's always in MY way and I have adjusted to it being there, you can too. 6. My pants are staying on, no matter ho...

I have too many big spoons. They overflow in the drawer and it bothers me. They take up more space then alloted, and that's just not fair to the rest of the silverware in the drawer. That's not what this post is about. This post is about me getting out my frustrations with the world and my disease so I can go to bed and rest peacefully. I don't want to cry myself to sleep, so I will cry my way through writing this post and be done with it. I'm scared to go to Italy. This is the first I have had that feeling. I'm scared about my energy and my ability to walk and that I'm probably going to see most of Italy from a seated position - in a wheelchair. At least I'm not on oxygen. Here I go: I am going to complain about the dishes. It is a huge issue. There are so many things I am already supposed to do everyday (and boy, if I get them all in, it's a miracle), so how am I supposed to fit in filling the dishwasher? I only have so much energy, and I lik...

I. WANT. TWIZZLERS. RED TWIZZLERS. STRAWBERRY TWIZZLERS. I'm going into withdrawal. I haven't had a Twizzler in over a week and I am now in withdrawal. That's all I have to say about today. This weekend is going to be CRAZY busy, but I have some energy again, even if it is in the form of a pill. Oh, and today I took a folding chair and went and knit on the sidewalk. It was nice out and I wanted my hair to dry in the sun. So there I was, knitting and listening to my non-ipod (not brand name, duh), surrounded by snow. People walked by and I kept knitting. Cars drove by and the people inside looked and pointed saying "look at that girl who has obviously gone nuts because she is knitting on the sidewalk in a folding chair." Sometime, I think I do these things only so I can write about them later. And sometimes I know it's because it's just so damn fun. And at least I'm not as crazy as my mother who went around destroying things the past several day...

I'm tired. I'm tired of days like today. Days where I wake up at 11am (after 12 hours of sleep), take my pills that are supposed to help me stay awake (narcolepsy pill in small doses), and then I even take my second dose at 1pm (which I usually forget), and I still feel like I could crawl into bed and sleep for days. I'm tired of having so much energy for two or three days in a row and then it's over. In those two or three days I plan a lifetime of activities I want to do - I want to make picture frames and change all the artwork in my house - and now I don't know when my next good days will be. I danced a lot last night and did a great deal yesterday and even more the day before - and even more on Sunday, so I guess being tired today shouldn't be unexpected. I'd just like to have more energy. Oh the things I could do with more energy! I think I need to update my CF page (it's TEAM WEEK afterall, and I will forget if I don't do it now) and then t...

I figured I should post the answers eventually. I had a couple people actually guess, which was fun!!! 1) Singin' In the Rain 2) The Sound of Music 3) Funny Face (awesome Sarah that you got this one!!!) 4) Avenue Q 5) RENT 6) Singin' in the Rain 7) Mary Poppins 8) My Fair Lady 9) Beauty and the Beast 10) Grease 11) Mary Poppins 12) RENT 13) RENT 14) RENT (I'm a big fan of RENT... can you tell? I really connect with it.) 15) RENT 16) Avenue Q 17) RENT 18) The Sound of Music 19) Fiddler on the Roof 20) The Lion King 21) The Muppet Movie (The Rainbow Connection is an epic song for me... I'm thinking I might want those words on my grave marker - which has nothing to do with the fact that it's a very special song for my best friend and me.) So this is how I'll end it: "Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me."

I I I I I I I I I

I want things. I try not to, but there are just things I want so badly it hurts. Honestly, try to ignore the thing you want most in the world and it will come back to bite you in the ass. Some days I just cry and cry because I can't have what I want. I am an eternal toddler and I want to throw my very own temper tantrum. The other night (in a crazed state of sleep deprivation and lack of psych meds) I wrote this before bed: "Eats me alive that I'm 'dying' and I want to be loved -no one will b/c - and I feel I don't have time." Obviously it's not completely coherent, but when I woke up the next morning to find tear stains on my pillow and I wondered why the hell I had been upset the night before, I found that guy on my yellow notepad. And I know what I meant. I meant that I was upset - and it hurts - that I'm 'dying' and I don't have anyone to marry me. (that's such a loose term.... 'dying'. I can go 3-5 months without ...

This year will be my third year walking Great Strides in Madison. I have walked every year since I moved here. It is easy to raise money for myself, but the real reason I walk if for the little kids. I love children, and it hurts to see little kids with feeding tubes, little kids in the hospital, and little kids doing the vest. They shouldn't have to. They should get to live like normal little kids. I know I had treatments when I was little and I have never known anything different, and the little kids are the same - but I know how horrible CF is, and no one else should have to go through it. Last year I made my first montage for fundraising, and it was because I saw the montage Emily's mom Tami had made. They are a family who live near my original hometown. Emily's montage was so well done I cried the whole way through. This year, her Mom made an even better one, and again I cried. Click and watch it. Emily. Little kids are our Sunshine, and it's not fair that ...

Hello Everyone! I’d like to invite you to help me raise money for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation! As you probably know, this cause is very dear to me not only because I have CF, but because I know so many wonderful people who also have CF. This is the montage I made for the 2008 walk: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlNj_RKhJi8 Cystic fibrosis is a devastating genetic disease that affects children, young adults, and even a few old adults. Advances continue to be made in finding a cure, but your help is needed now - more than ever - to help keep up the momentum of this life-saving research. Too many young lives depend on this vital research to let it go unfunded! GREAT STRIDES is the Cystic Fibrosis (CF) Foundation's largest and most successful national fund-raising event. This year, I'm walking in the GREAT STRIDES event at the Madison site on May 18 th , 2008. Please help me meet my fund-raising goal of $5,000 by sponsoring me. You'll feel confident in knowing t...