~Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am.~

So I just stone-cold passed out in the AT&T store. In front of about twenty people. I hit my face on the counter on the way down, and not only am I bleeding, but my front tooth feels loose.

Everyone was really nice, though. They called 911, who said it probably had to do with my heart. There was a priest there, who offered no help at all, which I thought weird.

Very bizarre day.

I did it. I officially changed my major to History. So far the only people I've told are my parents and the lady who sold me the mattress for my new guest bedroom. My parents were thrilled, as this means there is now a greatly reduced chance of me being kidnapped Sandinistas during the course of a work day, but the mattress lady was less than supportive. Apparently history is "boring"...Who knew?

In that case, I happily resign myself to a lifetime of boredom.

I took my mother to see it as part of her Mother's Day weekend. I was never really a fan, my only experience with any of the various series occurring when I was a child and my family used to watch TNG together. I didn't really expect much, to tell the truth, though I am quite a fan of JJ Abrams. Coming out of the theater, however, there were two thoughts running through my head:

1. That was fuckin' A!

and

2. Is it weird that I find Spock attractive?

So as not to give anything away, all I'm saying is that it needed more Gambit and Deadpool (the Merc with the Mouth).

Oh, and Sabretooth from the movie and Sabretooth in the first X-Men? No way in hell are they honestly asking us to believe that they're the same person, right? I mean, really. Who's buying that? On that note, Liev played the superior Sabretooth, in my most humble of opinions.

Also, is it just me, or was there no Stan Lee cameo in this one?

The impossible just happened: I got turned on by Alan Tudyk!

Most Fridays I head out after class to go spend the weekend at my parents' house. They watch Dollhouse, a previously so-so science fiction show created by one Joss Whedon. Sometimes I sit in on it, and tonight I was delighted to find that Alan was on the show, being his usual hilarious self. Or at least until the last few minutes when SPOILERIFIC SPOILERS!!!Alan turns out to be the psycho killer named Alpha and starts slashing faces and making out with Eliza Dushku. Suddenly I was overcome with a deep desire to jump his bones (newly well-muscled bones, I might add). I had no idea he could do homicidal maniac so well!*sigh* Doesn't life realize I have enough obsessions as it is?

God yes! As I told dear nfctdwthlupinus, A Whole New World from Aladdin has been stuck in my brain for days now! And as I haven't seen that movie in several years, I have no idea where it came from.

As you'll recall, a few days ago I posited a question: What makes fancy ketchup "fancy"?

The answer? Nothing! I feel so betrayed...

Dear Yahoo!:
What makes some ketchup "fancy"?
Jason
Latham, New York

Dear Jason:
As far as Ask Yahoo! can tell, "fancy" ketchup is just an example of assertive product marketing. We couldn't determine any specific ingredients that transform plain old ordinary ketchup into spectacularly fancy ketchup.

Many of the ketchup packets found in fast food restaurants are labeled "fancy ketchup." These handy packets are manufactured by a company called Portion Pack Inc., which describes its flagship product as "a tangy, sweet and spicy ketchup with a rich tomato flavor and a note of onion and garlic." Perhaps it's the onion and garlic that vaults it into the fancy category.

The venerable Ketchup FAQ doesn't find anything fancy about fancy ketchup: "I think fancy ketchup is similar to catsup, again just another name." In other words, a rose by any other name smells as sweet.

Eric Spitznagel, author of the "Junk Food Companion," reminisces that he had several lengthy childhood debates over this same issue. In the end, however, the only discernible difference he could note between fancy ketchup and regular ketchup was that the fancy stuff is only available in fancy restaurants -- like McDonald's.


By the way, I'm not Jason, in case you were wondering. I stole this off yahoo, lol.

Does anybody know what is so fancy about fancy ketchup? What distinguishes it from non-fancy ketchup?

Seriously people, this has bothered me for years...

See, this is when you know an obsession with something has gone too far. If you're in public and suddenly start arguing with your own brain, you're in trouble.

Brain: Jessy, you really don't need to stop at that bookstore. You'll only end up buying something.

Me: I just want to have a look. It's a small store; they probably won't have anything I want anyway.

Brain: *sigh* I fear an "I told you so" will make an appearance today.

Me: Shut up, you. I have to appear normal now. *enters store and begins to peruse the shelves* See, nothing I need here. *begins to walk out* I think that "I told you so" will becoming from me today, Brain.

Sales lady: Can I help you find something?

Me: Dammit.

Brain: So close, yet so far away.

Me: You don't happen to have a book on Tudor history, do you? I think it's by Alison Weir.

Brain: Danger Will Robinson! Danger!

Sales Lady: Queen Isabella?

Me: No, that's not it.

Sales Lady: *names off a bunch of other incorrect books* The Six Wives of Henry VIII?

Me: Shit.

Brain: Haha.

Me: Yep, that's it.

Sales Lady: It's paperback, $17.99?

Brain: $17.99 for a paperback? C'mon Jessy, you're not actually going to put me through this, are you?

Me: Sounds good!

Sales Lady: It should be in by Wednesday.

Brain: I told you so.


On another, slightly less psychotic note, I finally put up my Elizabeth poster, and the cat has some strange fascination/hatred of it. She sat in front of it for about 30 minutes meowing at Cate Blanchett. I wonder if she knows something I don't... *worries about poster coming alive and night and murdering her as she sleeps*

( In the beginning, there was the Word. At least, that's what Meggie thinks )

"Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. “He might tell me how my story ends,” he murmured.
Meggie looked at him in astonishment. “You mean you don’t know?”
Dustfinger smiled. Meggie didn’t particularly like this smile.
“What’s so unusual about that, princess?” he asked quietly. “Do you know how your story ends?”
Meggie had no answer to that." -Inkheart

The ending to my story became a bit murky a few months ago. After getting back from a family vacation, I ended up in the emergency room one night when I couldn't get my heart under control. It turns out my heart condition is something known as Paroxysmal Supraventricular Tachycardia (PSVT). For the obsessive Googlers like me, I'll save you the trouble and copy and paste what it is:

What is paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia (PSVT)?

Normally, an electrical signal is generated in special pacemaker cells in the upper chamber (atrium) of the heart. This impulse causes the atrium to beat in a coordinated fashion and push blood into the ventricles (the lower heart chambers). The electrical signal continues to a junction box between the atrium and ventricle (the AV node), where there is a slight delay. This allows the atrium to contract and send blood to the ventricle. The signal continues throughout the ventricles and causing them to beat and push blood to the body.

In paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia (PSVT), abnormal conduction of that electricity causes the atrium, and secondarily the ventricles, to beat very rapidly. It is paroxysmal, because the rapid rate can occur sporadically and without warning. It may last a few seconds or many hours.

What are the symptoms of paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia (PSVT)?

PSVT often presents with the complaints of palpitations described as a rapid heart rate often felt in the throat and may be associated with:

lightheadedness,


weakness,


shortness of breath, and


chest pressure."

It's not something that has a huge danger of being life-threatening, but it certainly scares the shit out of you and puts your body through hell. And in a case of what came first: the chicken or the egg? I simultaneously saw the return of panic attacks and anxiety disorder. I never imagined my life could spin off the rails so quickly, or that once it did I could get it back on. I had to move in with my parents for several weeks as they put me on several new medications (one made me high as kite, the one for my heart runs the risk of slowing down my heart too much and causing me to black out trying to walk up the stairs, and the last one caused bone-crushing depression for over a month until it leveled out my brain chemistry again) which needed to be monitored, and I ended up having to take incompletes in several of my classes as a result of the classes I missed. Luckily all of my profs have been incredibly understanding about the situation. My meds are back on track now, and I'm seeing a counselor on campus who has been my personal savior these last few months.

Whoo, would you look at that? I really know how to bring a post down, don't I? Trust me, life isn't doom and gloom for me anymore, I just wanted to explain why I seemed to fall off the face of the earth lately. Anyway, I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and I'll try to post something a little less dramatic soon. As it is, it's time for me to snooze. Ta!

"I'm not dead yet!"



Just thought you should know.

Owing to my long absence (sorry about that fellas, but hey, I finally found an apartment so it wasn't all in vain!), I'm giving you all a prezzie, should you choose to accept it. *Mission Impossible theme starts playing*



Much less comfortable sexual tension!


I'll admit, this made me giggle. Be warned, though. Here there be spoilers, mate.

So I got food poisoning. Again.

I've spent the last two and a half weeks feeling like death was imminent, but everyone told me it was nothing but the flu, so instead of going to the hospital like I should have, I spent the entirity of my Christmas vacation unable to eat anything without the deep desire to regurgitate. I believe I am now the only person who can say they emerged from the holidays 20 lbs. underweight.

And the worst part is I missed out on wishing all my friends a happy holiday. At least I still have two more weeks off in which to catch up with everyone!

Anyway, Happy New Year to everyone (and a happy birthday to my daddy, who turns 55 today- wonderful old geezer that he is!)

Well okay, maybe just France. But that's still got to count for something, right?

Okay sooooo....it's been awhile since I've made an appearance around here, hasn't it? Trust me, if you were able to see my face right now, you would see a very guilty-faced Jessy indeed. But ah! What's this? Could it be? An excuse explanation!

A few weeks ago I dragged myself out of bed in order to complete the drudgery that is applying for a student loan. It should come as no surprise that I wasn't exactly thrilled by the prospect of paperwork and increasing my debt, thus I went to the financial office with the singular goal of getting in and out as quickly as possible. An hour later, I'm plopped in an advisor's chair as she furiously scribbles down all the information she has on me from the all-knowing computer screen. She then proceeds to tell me that she's not the financial expert, so would I please wait until she gets back from lunch? It was when the financial advisor finally came in that my day took a turn for the better. She briefly glanced over everything the other advisor had written down, looked up at me and said, "You have excellent grades. How would you feel about a scholarship?" She gave me a full ride for the entire year, right down to my textbooks. To absolutely no one's surprise, I accepted. Then, as I was getting ready to leave, she asked me if I had a job. I told her I did, but she offered me one anyway. That's right. I, in addition to working as a preschool teaching assistant, am now a librarian. If people weren't terrified of me before, they're certainly shaking in their boots now. ;]

So that left me driving home that day trying to restrain myself from jumping with joy (as I said, I was driving, and jumping motions and driving do not mix, my friends) and asking God over and over what I'd done to deserve all this (answer: absolutely squat). I'm still thrilled with how everything turned out, but working two jobs while being a full time student can get a little hectic sometimes, so I'm not around to talk to all my LJ buddies as often as I would like. I'll be trying my damnedest to do better in the future though, trying to catch up on all the stuff I've missed since I've been away. I've missed you all so much! :] :]

Oh, and to get back to my use of that childish (but rather nifty) little rhyme, it seems as if I'm going to be abroad this coming summer. My old high school spanish teacher, everyone's favorite ex-nun, asked my best friend and myself if we would like to go to France and Italy next May, to which we grudgingly (see: ecstatically) agreed.

I have your heartbeat right here.

Why doctors believe that we mere mortals will have any idea what all the medical jargon they throw around means is beyond me. However, I was able to glean enough from Dr. Mohart to determine that death is not imminent (I think "yay" would be appropriate here). When someone undergoes extended periods of anxiety (as I did when I was suffering from the worst of my anxiety disorder), it can sometimes lead to a condition known as tachycardia (the only reason I have any clue what that word is comes as a direct result of watching ER years ago). Tachycardia essentially means an irregular heartbeat, which in my case is too fast. The speed that my heart is trying to pump at then leads to some v word (which I cannot recall for the life of me), making me feel as though I am going to pass out cold. If left untreated, tachycardia can lead to some unpleasant issues down the road, but my doctor assured me that the help of some beta-blockers would be all I would require to treat this condition and circumvent any future problems (again, yay).

Thanks again to everyone who sent me their love, well wishes, and prayers. It worked wonders, guys. You kick ass, truly. :]

Tomorrow morning is my appointment with Dr. Mohart, the cardiatric specialist. The upside of this visit? I'll find out what's wrong with me, not to mention that fact that I'll finally get to take this infernal heart monitor off. The downside?

I'll find out what's wrong with me.

Okay, so I'll spare you the rest of the song. But I do want to say this to all my new LJ friends: need I tell you how much you guys rock? Ginormous thank yous go to everyone who added/friended me. I've been hoping to personally introduce myself to everyone via their livejournals, but in case I've missed anyone (If I did, please, PLEASE let me know and I will apologize profusely. Hands and knees, I promise) I'm doing it here as well.

So, just to set the scene: There's me, running through a sunny field filled with flowers towards you [insert LJ identity here] with arms outstretched as a happy song from the 60's plays in the background.

Welcome to the strange and wonderful(ish) world of my mind. :] :]

In light of my recent trip to the doctor which saw me saddled with this infernal heart monitor, I have decided to form a band called The Heart Monitors. It shall be composed of people equipped with heart monitors, and our music will be variations of the beeps that go off when your heart rate goes over the set number. I think we'll be bigger than Tipper Gore. [if she, you know, played heart monitor music...]

So....any takers? ;] Totally random post, I know. Sue me. :P

This has certainly been an interesting week or two. First my wireless crashes (the only way I get access to the internet now is to sit on the floor in the corner where the ethernet cord comes out of the wall), and then I get peed on by a three year old. Nine times out of ten I will rave about how I have the best job in the world, but a little urine can make that tenth time a bit of a toss up. *sigh* Anyone have a clean pair of pants I can borrow?

Oh, and in Lost news: Did I call it or did I call it? I've been saying that Anthony Cooper was the original Sawyer ever since the first time I saw him, but every single person I told my theory too (save for Lindz, of course) gave me nothing but a skeptical look in return for my brilliance. Actually, in the end the episode was a little too predictable to me, as I knew that Locke was taking Sawyer to his father and not to Henry and all that rot, but I must admit it did give me a slight buzz to see my suspicions confirmed.

Also, I feel I must say this: DESMOND IS A MONK!!!!!