cleolinda: (Default)
Omg, Sister Girl is going to kill me. She asked me to ask y'all this, and Lexicongate put it clean out of my head:

She's going to be in New York for Comic-Con (her boyfriend is a comics buyer for a national bookstore chain), with a few extra days for going around and such, and she wants to know what would be good to go around and see. Particularly bakeries, she said (not necessarily restaurants to eat out at night, just bakeries) and anything fun to go do. You know, that isn't just "Go see a show." Any ideas?


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cleolinda: (Default)
Important question. We're dealing with a hangover (not mine) over here, severe nausea in particular. I tried to administer water, knowing that hydration is key, but she nearly threw it up. What do we do? And is there a point where it's so bad she may need to go to the hospital?

ETA: She--Sister Girl (what? She's 22. I started having flashbacks to my own college days)--is still feeling pretty crappy, but she's had Gatorade and a Lunchable (hey, it was what she wanted), and she's up and about again. Turns out she'd already thrown up most of whatever at the original location; I was mostly overreacting concerned about her possibly having to go to the hospital for dehydration, but she seems to be holding fluids down and is at her boyfriend's now.
cleolinda: (Default)
Why aren't you at Stardust ? No, I'm not going to leave you alone until you go see it.

Anyone from Savannah here? Sister Girl is going to spend most of next week there, just for fun, so if you have any touristy (or foody or even drinky) suggestions, let me know. And yes, she is aware that she picked one of the worst areas in the country to visit in the middle of Satan's Heatwave, but at least she'll have some damp heat for variety.

Some prime asshaberdashery, and linkspam )


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Ohhhhhhhh no. No no no no no. My mother put a load of my sister's laundry in to wash this morning and asked me to put it in the dryer for a little bit and then hang it all up to dry. (For those of you asking where my sister was that she couldn't do her own laundry, her shift started at five this morning and she had a class last night. She's been a lazy cuss in the past, yes, but for the last six months, her schedule's been insane.) So I throw the clothes in the dryer, don't really look at them, and come back a couple of hours later to hang them up. They're covered in spots. Clutches of small, random, oily spots. Most of the load was polo shirts for work, but also in there? The outfit she was going to wear on her date tonight. Ohhhhhhhh no. And Sister Girl has, let us say, an Irish temper. I thought I had an Irish temper, but I realized it isn't really--with me, the amount of bluster is inversely proportionate to the actual amount of mad I am. I read something ridiculous in the paper, and it's like, "OH, WHATEVER, I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS GUY, DID YOU SEEEEEEE THIS?!"; someone does something shitty directly to me and I turn into my mother with the "I'm sorry, this is NOT ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR" Terrifying Calm thing. With Sister Girl, on the other hand, the dial's pretty much on eleven all the time. We're all going to die, is what I'm saying.

CSI: Special Laundry Unit )

Movies this weekend: The Wicker Man at 17% fresh: snap. Crank seems to have amazingly good reviews at the moment, though.

Munch's "The Scream" found by police after two years.

Meanwhile: apparently by the time y'all got to the gelfling porn Wikipedia entry, it had been sanitized, making me look insane. Well, nothing ever disappears entirely from the internet, baby. (I like how a note on the history page says, "Classified everything below the first paragraph as 'Gelflings in Fan Fiction' since that is all the contents really are at best.")

Maybe the Russian Wtf, as y'all call it, was an ambulocetus? Yeah, I don't feel better.

("Russian Wtf" reminds me of the old joke--a reporter at a garden show or a greenhouse or something (look, I forget the context) asks the gardener what the big purple flower is, and he says, "Damn if I know." Next day in the paper, a picture of it with the caption: The rare purple damifino.)


Brian De Palma talks about The Black Dahlia a bit. "De Palma was juggling simultaneous plot lines 'that overlap in ways you don't realize until later,' he says. 'Some things I changed were too complex for audiences to absorb unless they were able to pick up the book. I had to pare down a lot of the eccentricities of the storytelling. If four things were going on simultaneously, we didn't need five.'" This is the kind of thing I find fascinating, if only for my own writerly purposes.

Cate Blanchett as Bob Dylan in I'm Not There. Okay, I howled at this one. Maybe it works in action, but it's just hilarious out of context in stills. I forget which other actors are playing Dylan--seven total, I believe--but more of the cast in general is here. Definitely Heath Ledger, apparently.

Queen Fights for Right to Party, Blog. Brian May is ready to go over to MySpace and "apply a fist or two." I support this motion one hundred percent, sir.


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Okay, I need some help from y'all. I went to the doctor today for a medicine check, and increasing my Zoloft has not worked. In fact, not only has it not worked, it has been very, very bad. Like, hour-long-crying-jags bad. And I knew that people have had some bad reactions to Zoloft, so I just said, "Look, I feel awful, but it'll pass. I'll ride it out; I'll let the side effects subside." Yeah... they weren't the kind of side effects that go away. Not being able to sleep, having hot flashes, having headaches--that, in the past as well as now, has gone away. "If you need me, I'll be in bed weeping" does not. And the sad part is, I felt really, really good for the first two weeks we increased my dosage. And then it just all went to hell. In fact, it got really bad last week, and I actually think saying, "You know, I have this story idea I've wanted to work on, let's do that," and banging out 20,000 words over about four days is pretty much the only thing that got me up and about.

(Yeah, this will probably come as a surprise to most of y'all, but I've found that many people suffering from depression tend to perk up a little when they're with people or are otherwise presenting a public face. Whether this is from pride, or social stimulus, or just plain not wanting to bother other people with their problems, I don't know. All I know is, I'm just not the kind of person who's going to wallow and wail on her livejournal.)

So I'm going to try to go back down to the next highest dosage we tried, 150, and try that for two weeks. Because I felt really, really good at 150 for two weeks, and I've been taking Zoloft for something like eight years, and it's largely a pretty good deal. But I can tell my doctor's getting kind of antsy to put me on something new. Well, actually, the first thing she did was ask me questions that were subtly, in an obvious kind of way, trying to divine if maybe I need to be rediagnosed as manic-depressive. Like, the bright spots I've had over the last couple of months, was I really... really... happy? "Uh... no. It was just like, 'I've gone out and seen a movie, that was nice,' or 'I just wrote a ton of stuff, that was really productive and I feel really good about that.'" Do I have trouble sleeping on my "good" days? "Uh... no. Usually it's the days I feel bad that I can't sleep, because I'm not active enough to be tired at night. I sleep pretty well on good days, because I've worked or done whatever until I'm tired." And so on, until finally I was just like, "Look, I'm not the doctor here, but I'm pretty sure I don't have any symptoms of any manic component whatsoever. I'm one of the most sedate people you'll ever meet. I live with a manic-depressive. I'm pretty sure I ain't."

So she wants to try one of two other antidepressants if Zoloft doesn't get its act together in the next two weeks--Effexor or Lamictal, and I can tell she's leaning towards Lamictal, which is an anti-seizure drug that apparently has shown some benefits for people who suffer from chronic, recurrent depression. Me, I think it sounds kind scary. Like, for some reason, it makes me think of a praying mantis. Look, I don't know. It's got the long Ls like legs on either end and this "ict" hunching in the middle. It sounds predatory. I'm also one of those people who sees colors for words and numbers, okay? DON'T JUDGE ME, OKAY?

Also, it can give you a giant rash.

So what I wanted to know from y'all was if you'd ever tried either Lamictal or Effexor, and if you'd had good or bad experiences with either one. I mean, yes, I can go read up on them, but you tend to get laundry lists of every good and bad side effect possible, mostly so the company can cover its ass, which isn't as helpful as someone saying, "Yeah, I couldn't sleep and I gained a lot of weight. Don't take that." Anyone?


ETA: I should add that I already take Wellbutrin as well, as a one-two combination. And that if you don't feel comfortable commenting publicly, you can always email me.



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