Typhoid.

I don't know if it's allergies or a cold or what, but I've been wanting to pop my head like a zit. Ear pressure, sneezing, weeping, congestion-the constant tickle in my nose extends into my eyes and at night it's hard to breathe like when I had pneumonia. I think the asthma that can be caused by allergies is worsening. My eyes are so bloodshot you'd think I'd have been smoking pot or crying for hours. Maybe it's because we now have four cats in the house now. I think people are too quick to put the needs of themselves before animals, so whatever this bug is, I'm not getting rid of any of the cats.

I watched some of the Academy Awards and, with allergies contributing, cried when Heath Ledger won Best Supporting Actor and his parents and sister came out to accept it for his little girl, Matilda. I really liked Heath Ledger and I think God snatched him up too early.

I read this small zombie novel last night and it was really good-not what I was expecting. People are regaining control over the planet but the colony the story takes place in don't kill zombies if they don't have to out of their respect for the dead, so the put them in containment facilities. And one half of the book is about a girl coming of age in this colony, but the other is from one of the zombies' point of view. He found his wallet and remembers how to read and doesn't want to eat humans [his first bite tasted gross to him]and an army dude notices that he's different and befriends him and takes him out on field trips and stuff. And the zombie finds a girl zombie [who is slightly more inclined to eating people than he is]and he teaches her "manners" and they become friends and later on, an integral part to the colony. They can't talk, just moan and grunt and wheeze, but they understand talking and the female zombie [Lucy]can remember how to play the violin. A viewpoint of a zombie-I don't think that's been done before, and certainly not a vegetarian zombie.

The book is entitled Dying to Live: Life Sentence, by Kim Paffenroth. So go read it. Now.

I really, really hate the DMV.

I had one day until my permit expired. I can drive, just not while being watched and scrutinized and slightly drugged and possibly sick.

Why didn't I get it in high school? I missed half of driver's ed due to illness and the teacher is seriously a pedophile. No way I would drive by myself with him.

And then the night before going to take the road test, I started a new sleep medication. My brother woke me up at 3:15 in the afternoon and the appointment was at 4:00. I woke up feeling medicated and sore. I had just enough time to swallow a banana, chug down my pills with a glass of milk, and brush my teeth.

It didn't take long for the road test person to come out. I felt so doped up. I think that's what a hangover feels like. I felt similar once after taking cold medicine with my meds a few years ago and being knocked out on the floor. So I was focused on looking alert. Driving slowly, always checking for invisible cars.

What did the damage? I ran a stop sign [don't remember that], botched a three point turn [which I can do and have done], and didn't parallel park well enough [not my best point, but who parallel parks in Utah?].

Afterwards, since I only had a day left on my permit, we had to wait half an hour to renew that and that's when I really started feeling sick along with the medicinal hangover. I think I'm getting a cold. My throat was killing me and I had the aches I get when I'm sick where it hurts to touch things, let alone sit on those horrible plastic chairs. And the shakes. My mom left and bought some juice. I think there was some mild dehydration considering I'd only had a small cup of milk in however many hours.

So I have another six months to "practice." I went home, ate some macaroni, and went to bed. No new sleeping pill this time, so although hangover-free, I'm certain I have a cold.

A lovely story. The end.

Vampire?!

The last week I haven't slept well.

Wednesday: 5'O Clock [1 melatonin, 2 depakote, 2 ambien, 1 clonopin, 2 tylenol PM, I think]
Thursday: 3'O Clock
Friday: 1'O Clock
Saturday: 2'O Clock
Sunday: 2'O Clock.

And that's with a few sedatives.

I watched this documentary on the impact of vampires on moderen culture [obviously made before Stephanie Meyer came about] and some of the people who thought they were vampires were really hokey so during the commercials of old people getting health insurance my dad and my sister and I kept pointing out which old people were vampires because "vampires are all around us and look just like you and me!" Especially this old little black lady with large dentures.

So methinks I am a vampire because I'm slowly becoming nocturnal, haha.

Urgh. And to top it off, a visit to the therapist at 10:30 in the morning [early for me]. But maybe I can get some elephant tranquilizers or something. A dart gun.

This will make it difficult to do my new and first calling of primary teacher. I don't know what age group I'll have or anything, but I haven't been able to go to church because I'm too tired.

I got twelve hours of sleep and I'm dead on my feet.

"4'O Clock

4'O Clock

Never let me sleep

I close my eyes and pray

For the garish light of day

Like a frightened child I run

From the sleep that never comes

4'O Clock

4'O Clock

Out of bed I creep

To climb this tower of shame

But the hour's still the same

Only madness knows my name

At 4'O Clock

4'O Clock

4'O Clock

Never let me sleep

I close my eyes and pray

For the garish light of day

Like a frightened child I run

From the sleep that never comes

4'O Clock

4'O Clock

Out of bed I creep

To climb this tower of shame

But the hour's still the same

Only madness knows my name

At 4'O Clock

Why can we never go back to bed?

Whose is the voice ringing in my head?

Where is the sense in these desperate dreams?

Why should I wake when I'm half-past dead?

Sure as the clock keeps its steady chime

Weak as I walk to its steady rhyme

Ticking away from the ones we love
So many girls, so little time

4'O Clock

4'O Clock

Out of bed I creep

To climb this tower of shame

But the hour's still the same

Only slumber never came

Only madness knows my name

At 4'O Clock."

-by Emilie Autumn.

Stolen Babies, Part Two.

These are the pictures of me with the Stolen Babies. In this first one you can see how nervous I am and they all happen to be doing weird poses.

I look fat in this picture and my miniature top hat blends into the background.

The Concert: Riverhead, Stolen Babies, Black Light Burns, Combichrist.

In order of events:

After getting slightly lost, Ruben and I found The Avalon and stood outside in the cold for twenty minutes. The people in front of us were smoking [peh!]and I was thinking of telling them to use their lighters to keep us warm. The people behind us were pretty funny. I don't remember what they were talking about, but they were funny.

Then the doors opened just as I was about to become a freeze-bug [Metalocalypse reference]and we went in, where I spent exactly $55 on Stolen Babies merchandise-the full length album and two amazing t-shirts and because I spent that much, I got two free little buttons, a "STOLEN BABIES ON BOARD" caution-sign sticker which will one day be on the windshield of my first car, and two other large stickers, one of which I promised I'd give Ruben.

Then we made our way to the front where the first act, Riverhead, began performing. Their bassist looked like a goth version of the Joker.

But more importantly, Stolen Babies was the next act. I had a clear view of the drum kit and took a picture of the logo stamped on it.

First one out was Gil [the drummer] and he did some test runs on the drums, which I filmed. Ruben informed me that he wanted Gil's brocade suit jacket.

Next out was Rani [bassist and brother of Gil]. Each time one of them would come out I'd squeal.

Ben [keyboards and oil drum] followed.

And then Gil brought out Dominique's Weltmeister accordion and set it down and I took some pictures of it-I could have touched it if I wanted to-it was that close. And then Dominique came out and put on the Weltmeister! I've waited two years to see them. I could have seen them on the Hottest Women in Metal tour but I had to go to a memorial for my grandmother in Washington and missed out on seeing THREE of my favorite female-fronted bands. Sorry, Nanny, but you had been cremated for three months and if it were just postponed a day....and the Dresden Dolls were performing the next day, too, so I was rather pissed the whole journey.

Their set included Spill!, Filistata, Lifeless, Push Button, Tall Tales, Mind Your Eyes. I think I got them all.

Here are the pictures I took:

After their performance when they were clearing away their instruments, Dominique bent down and put her hand out so I and the people around me could touch it and she said that the band would be hanging out in the lobby after Combichrist.

The next band was Black Light Burns and they were all wearing black clothes that reminded me of clothes men wore in the 1800's. Wes Borland [ex Limp Bizkit] was the frontman and he had a handlebar mustache. Anyway, when they were performing, he took off his vest, and then his shirt, and kept dousing himself in water before flinging himself around like he was being electrocuted. Seriously-he was bouncing off the walls. Just check out the pictures on their myspace page to see:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewProfile&friendID=36794676

Then after the longest wait ever, Combichrist came out. Well, you couldn't really see them come out because of the fog, but they had to come out somewhere...two drummers, one keyboardist, and one vocalist. The drum sets reminded me of industrial versions of the ones they had at Celtic Woman. They put on a superb show. The singer was really into it and everyone would start jumping and he'd be bouncing around. He reminded me of Till Lindmann from Rammstein with his facial expression-the blue eyes that are so light they're almost white, the mohawk, the [fake?]blood dripping down, the creepy-doll-face-conducting-an-invisible-orchestra actions. It was a lot like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8pBe1Zbd3Y Except the female drummer wasn't there.

They did three encore songs, one of which, if it were turned into a radio version, would be called "This__will__you up," haha.

So Ruben and I made our way over to the Stolen Babies merch table and I told them that they did an amazing show and gave them the sketchbook I painted to them and Dominique turned to Gil and Rani and said that she was just talking about how she should have brought a notebook but only had pieces of paper. A practical present. They really liked it-I hoped they would given their love for artists like Gris Grimly, Tim Burton, and Crab Scrambly [who illustrated their album].

Ruben asked Gil where he got his brocade jacket and he replied, "I got it in a porn shop in Seattle." And Dominique confirmed it, haha. I wouldn't think porn shops would sell clothing.

And Jose was there, so I made him take a picture of us with the band. It was a small area and part of it was a step up, so we had to spend a minute arranging ourselves. I've read that Dominique is really tiny, but she was as tall as me. She was wearing heeled boots, so I think she'd be a couple inches shorter at the most, but I was expecting a hobbit, haha. She's so pretty. And her makeup was flawless because her skin was flawless [only girls notice these things!].

Ruben wanted to buy something, so I made a quick pit stop and when I came out, Ruben was chatting with Rani and Rani turned to me and made me sign the sketchbook and promised they'd fill it up and bring it next time they came to SLC. They kept thanking me for the sketchbook and telling me how cool it looked-praise from the Stolen Babies was so very cool. I'm still in awe. They're either in or on their way to Denver right now and then one or two more shows with Combichrist, I believe. So it's not really long enough to be a tour, but I still expect them to fill up the book with many ideas for the new album.

And with ringing ears and no voices left, we made our way home.

Her Ghost in the Fog.

We had fog on Friday. Real fog. I haven't seen fog like that since first grade. Here's a picture:

It was really bad during the night. Or really cool, depending on how you look at it. It would have been fun to walk around in it during the night but it was too cold, so instead there was dancing:

Falling out of bed.

Last night I was hanging halfway out of my bed in an attempt to reach the chapstick on my dresser [accursed canker sore!], when I fell out of bed. The trash can smacked against my lower jaw/right lymph node. Most of my weight fell on the heel of my left hand. And my right elbow got carpet burns. I was surprised no one heard my head collide with the trash can. I wonder if lymph nodes can rupture because that's what it felt like, reverberating through my teeth.

Combined with being sore and tired from the atrocity that is the boot-scootin' boogie, I am very sore, but glad I didn't bite my tongue off or something.

I am concerned about my left hand, though. If I didn't bruise the bones, I think there might be a teeny little fracture-there's this one spot that throbs and burns and turning my hand weird ways sets it off. Nothing to do for it.