delirium happy

Just keep on trying till you run out of cake

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My weekend
delirium happy
I've actually done stuff this weekend, so my update will be something other than random musings about cheese for a change. Lucky you.

I got up at 9am on Saturday morning after not enough sleep, since this gave me two hours to leisurely get up, dressed and ready and what have you, which I figured would be plenty of time. Of course, I was right. So after getting up and doing most of the things necessary to be able to go outside without scaring young children, I set to doing things like reading my friends page. Then after I run out of things on the internet to poke at, I figured that since I still had so much time left, it couldn't hurt to go and lay down and shut my eyes for a bit longer. Needless to say, this was not wise. I ended up having to run around like a headless chicken to finish getting ready on time, and only made it to my train with about three minutes to spare.

The train down to Bolton was mercifully uneventful, but then I reached the end and could see neither hide nor hair of leahs_whisper (Nikki), who was due to be meeting me at the station. Five minutes later, and still no sign. Ten minutes later, and I'm starting to get a tad worried. Of course, since I'd left my flat in a rush, I'd not had time to make a note of her phone number so had no way of contacting her to ask where she was (yes, I am aware that normal people store phone numbers in their phone; however, I've only barely got used to the idea that phones can send text messages as well as voice communication, so using my phone for this purpose is somewhat beyond my neo-luddite abilities). Of course, she showed up not long thereafter and revealed that the problem was caused by traffic.

From there, it was a quick walk back to the car in which beckyrachel was waiting for us, and having parked up in Morrison's car park and made a quick detour to a nearby video game shop (where I managed to show an unprecedented amount of willpower by not buying Super Mario Galaxies), it was then time for me to head off and get zapped in the face with a laser. Of course, despite the fact that Nikki lives in Bolton, and that I went to school there for 7 years, and that I had a map, and that I'd been to the pace only a week before, we still had some difficulties getting there. If memory serves, I described my sense of direction, at this time, as being on a par with that of a flatulent gnat on crack cocaine. I'm not entirely sure I wasn't doing the gnat a disservice, mind. We did get there in plenty of time though, thanks to Becky's leet map-reading skills.

The actual process of getting zapped by the laser was somewhat interesting. It did hurt somewhat, but not unbearably so. As I said after my test patch, it felt to me like nothing so much as a static electric shock. Of course, the difference between the test patch and the actual thing is that I was getting multiple static electric shocks repeatedly in adjacent areas. While I'd not describe it as pleasant, it wasn't really a big deal. At least, that's what I found.

The other neat thing about the procedure is that I was blindfolded the entire time. I think, though I wouldn't swear, that there were pads placed over my eyes, then some sort of bandage, blindfold or bandanna used to keep them in place, then a pair of tinted goggles put over the top of them. Go go gadget over-zealous safety procedures. However, give that I actually know how lasers work, and have a reasonable idea of how the eye works, I'm in no way averse to having extra protection in between laser and my eyes. It was slightly alarming that, depending on where on my face she was zapping, I could still see the occasional red flash. It was only a bit of reflected splash though, so no big deal.

I found being blindfolded quite relaxing actually. It's very much an "OK, just lie back and relax, I don't expect you to do anything beyond lying there, and I'll look after you" sort of thing. I do wonder whether having vision turned off might increase the acuity of the sense of touch, though. It's only really of academic concern to me, mind, since it wasn't hurting much.

I also really really like Charlotte, the woman who was zapping me. We had a nice chat while she was zapping me about transgender stuff, hair, depression, her night out on Friday, Amsterdam, and various other things. I was vaguely sad when we were done because that meant the chat was over. I feel in very good hands, though. She's very genuine, very caring, and also clearly very knowledgeable about what she's doing.

After writing out a cheque for £440 (which covers the session I just had and an additional 5, including a discount for paying for the whole lot upfront), we then headed back to Nikki's. We didn't actually do a great deal there, but still, a good time was had. Mostly it was just random chatting and stuff, though there was also a good bit of gaming. Mostly, I insisted on playing games that I was good at (ie, ones I knew already) which meant Mario Kart Double Dash and Super Smash Bros Melee. I did, however, allow Nikki to show me Lego Star Wars, which was a corking little game, which I fear I may have to pick up a copy of at some point.

There was also a whole lot of reminiscing over old times. Given that I've not actually seen Nikki for something like 5 years, this is hardly surprising. Looking through old pictures brought back one hell of a lot of memories.

They were also foolish enough to place a leather crop in my hand. I shall say nothing of this, except that by the end of the evening they were somewhat sceptical about my claims that I'm actually quite submissive, really.

Finally, we headed off back to the station, safe in the knowledge that there were trains until very late. Wine had been drunk by this point, so the car was out of the question and we walked it instead. I always enjoy the sense of irony in being the only person present in a situation who is tee-total, and also the only one without a driving license. It started absolutely piddling it down as we were walking, and we were quickly soaked to the bone. I think I managed to piss the other two off somewhat by mentioning how much I enjoy that sort of weather and how invigorating I find it. Oh well.

Regardless, we got to the station without incident, and I was summarily loaded onto the next train. Naturally, the train was filled with the requisite load of slightly rowdy people who had had one too many to drink. I managed to somewhat annoy one woman by refusing to tell her my name. Sod off, I just want to be left to myself. In hindsight, it possibly was somewhat rude to refuse to answer, but I'm very guarded and have Issues, and she was definitely ruder than I was by repeatedly insisting when I'd made it quite clear I wasn't going to tell her, complete with swearing.

Anyway, I managed to survive the train journey, and got off at Preston, to change onto my train up to Lancaster. As mentioned in my previous entry, this train patently failed to exist. Stupid train. It wasn't a big deal though, since I got a taxi back to my parents' house in Chorley. The annoying thing was that I'd contemplated getting off the train as it passed through Chorley to get away from the annoying woman, but decided against. If I'd done that, I'd have only been about 2 miles from my parents' house, and could have got a taxi for much cheaper. Oh well.

Was totally exhausted by the time I got back, so decided I'd get a relatively early night. And then proceeded to lie in bed failing to fall asleep for several hours. Anyone feel like taking my insomnia off my hands? Cheap. Only one careless owner. I then didn't wake up until about noon, which totaly goes against my "be up no later than 10am every day" policy, but given I didn't have an alarm clock, there wasn't a great deal I could do about it.

Phoned my dad on his mobile to warn him that the alarm would be off when they came back, and request that he not attack me with a baseball bat under the impression that I was an intruder, and then went to curl up in front of crap television. It's amazing what one will resort to without access to IRC, DVDs or one's books.

Although I hadn't planned to be visiting my parents, I was actually glad that I did. Had an enjoyable day. Today's meal was steak, and today's computer lesson to my father was about copying pictures from his digital camera to his computer, and what metadata is.

I also had my mum inject me with the triptorelin that I was prescribed last week (she's a GP, so wasn't just randomly injecting me or anything). If you want a joke about "a little prick" and the fact that the needle went into my bum, and that it was my mum who was giving it to me, the you'll just have to make up your own at this point. It's odd though. I really don't mind needles/injections much (though I don't like looking at them), but even so, I still sometimes react badly to them. Today was one of those times. As soon as I'd had the injection I immediately felt dizzy and slightly nauseous, started to sweat a lot, and went pale. Emotionally, I was fine, and not at all perturbed, but I still had that sort of a reaction, which I'd typically think of as being caused by an emotional reaction. I was even compos mentis enough to find it academically interesting that I was reacting that way. My mum, of course, could quite well have done without her daughter nearly fainting after she injected her.

I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but triptorelin is a GNRH agonist. I forget the exact mechanism of how it works, but essentially it stops the release of GNRH, which is a hormone released by the pituitary gland (I think), which is involved in a chain which eventually ends up with the production of testosterone. So basically, I'll end up with no testosterone, which will be a good thing. Due to the funkiness of its mechanism, though, for the first week or so, it will actually produce a large surge in testosterone production. Advice I have received on this has ranged from "you won't even notice it" to "it will be hell on Earth". I haven't really noticed any effects from it yet, and am attempting to keep an open mind.

My dad gave me a lift back up to Lancaster, so I am writing this from the comfort of my own home. Since getting back, I have managed to knock a plate of a shelf and chip it, which I am very annoyed with myself over. Tonight is also being yet another insomnia night, as evidenced by the fact that I'm updating at 3.30 in the morning. Feh.

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If you ever get stuck and it's more convenient, we've got a spare room in Levenshulme which is frequently free...

D'oh, just realised that Chorley, Lancs != Chorley, Cheshire :)

I'm very glad that things worked out in the end.
It was fun to reminisce.. a reminder of how time flies too.

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