First off, apologies for anything spelled wrong. I'm typing without my conteacts, which I'm sort of uhh.... blind without them.

Anyway, I'm feeling sick again (colitis style, break it down). I mean, I haven't been tryly well since october of last year (and even "truly well" is relative when you've been dealing with something like this for 3 years now.) But I was doing somewhat better. And now i'm doing somewhat worse. What really gets me, though, is how eager the doctors are to pat their own backs when I am feeling better, though. Three months after they started giving me the medication that I'm on, I start getting better, and all the sudden, it's definately because of the medication I've been fruitlessly taking for three months now, because it's not like in the last three years my condition hasn't seesawed on it's own any. Oh wait. It HAS. It's done it a whole fucking lot. Bastards.

I'm also trying to write my news story. Forget interesting, I'm finding it a struggle to get any story that's not on the war. Now it's becaome this perverse urge to NOT write about iraq, no matter what. But my only other option is like, this guy on our street who threatened the fire chief with a gun. Except it barely gives me a paragraph to work with, because they saved all the room for stories on Iraq. Oh, and it's insane how much my mom goes on and on about the treatening guy. "I always knew he was a wild hare." she keeps saying. And she is eager to tell the story to as many people as possible. Although she's always like that. Any news, no matter how morbid, is like a gift from god to my mother, because she LOVES telling peoplbe bad news. And drawing it out, too.

In conclusion, meh.