Back from the dead, or, archives are NOT dusty, musty or disorganized! What will it take for you people to understaaaaand

Unlike Spock, I've never been dead before, but a couple of days ago I hyperventilated my way through a week-long Archives class. A three-credit Archives class. That's right, we're talking:

1. Read two books and a boatload of articles and websites before the first class day.
2. Class meetings from nine to five-ish (the first day we were required to watch this, which was awesomely entertaining despite the baaaad American accent put on by pretty Liam Cunningham. Yes, that was how all Brits felt seeing Rene Zellweger fumble around as Bridget Jones, I assume), homework from five-ish to wheneverish. In my case that was generally midnight-ish.
3. Two to three hour long lectures.
4. A portfolio (see above homework) and poster project (see above image) to be presented to the class on the final day. I painted mine while watching both versions of The Big Sleep.

It was incredibly intense. I was gibbering on Day One and completely blasé by Day Four. It was also hard to turn off the focus and just relax with a giant Symphony bar, popcorn, and the entire doofy fourth season of Stargate Atlantis. (Somehow I managed it.) The good thing about the experience? A. was gone to Chicago for a conference so I wasn't distracted.

I've been thinking about this blog and how remiss I've been in updating, well, with any frequency at all. I have another blog at Livejournal, which I update nearly every day with (obviously) fascinating tidbits. The normal course of action would be to say, [Forget] you, Jobu!* and end this blog. The smart, less stressful thing to do would be to combine the two blogs. But I'm not going to do either (insert idiot, abnormal comments in their rightful places, please). I like writing about UC here. I write about it on the other blog, too, but not as much.

This makes me think about one of my biggest problems with UC - one that I often discuss with my friend Sasha. Sasha has persistent idiopathic facial pain, so occasionally we have conversations about chronic disease, chronic pain and the unpleasantness of taking bucketloads of medication. Out of all the things we talk about, the one I keep coming back to is passing.

"Passing" in our parlance refers to the fact that on our good days (and sometimes, on my bad ones) both Sasha and I can generally pass for healthy people. No one can look at us and say, unequivocally, that girl's diseased or she has chronic pain or she downs horse pills. In general, no one has to know about our disease unless we tell them.

This is a confusing way to exist. On one hand, I can go to work and class or hang out with friends and not feel like I'm being patted on the head or doused with sympathy. On the other hand, it makes explaining about the disease (what I can't eat, why I shouldn't drink coffee [oooh boy], why I have ninety pill bottles in one of my cupboards) a lot more awkward; which also brings up the point of when is it proper to tell your new friend/boyfriend/work colleagues about your embarrassing, private bowel disorder?

My current answer to that question is 1) live over hard cider or online with a brief Livejournal bloodletting, 2) I'm so shamefully glad I don't have to talk to a new lover about this, and 3) never. According to number 3, I'm passing; at least at work I am.

It doesn't seem right. And yet, I've been at my current job for almost two years. It would definitely be awkward to bring this up now. Also, one of the most appealing things about passing is that lack of knowledge; it's not "I have a secret looloolooleelooloo," it's privacy. I can't think of a situation where my coworkers need to know about my UC, but I'm not long on imagination (surprisingly) in this area.

So, what do you all think about passing? Is it good, if you can spin it? Is it bad, because UC/whatever chronic disease IS a part of a person and to pass as healthy serves to deny that part? I know UC has changed me. In light of that, passing feels like cheating or lying.

What do you think?

You can tell me I'm full of shit. It's true!





*Come on, edited-for-television is ALWAYS better. As with all things, see Robocop. (Which I hear Aronofsky is remaking. NOT a happy camper, here.)

Happy horseapples and the like

The Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America is starting to irritate me. Naturally, I have no real evidence against them other than the fact that they send my membership bills at very inopportune times (say, every Christmas season when I'm paying two hundred and some change for heat, so I do not have money for gifts, let alone thirty dollars for a single membership fee. Pathetic. Now I feel much better) but today I came home to THIS.



All right, so this is my garbage bin. I come home to it every day. Let's see what's inside! (Okay, we can't, because the evidence is in shreds, obviously the result of some mad berserker just passing through eel infested waters...)

Suffice to say, it was a letter from the CCFA. A membership reminder, you ask? I thought so at first, until I noticed hmm, zero percent financing for all of 2008? Wait a second. I see. In addition to Shire, Salix and Bristol Myers Squibb, CCFA is also in bed with Bank of America! So nice of them to sell my address! Of course, since it's in the interest of getting a hot little BoA credit card with the CCFA logo on it, I guess it's okay.

Oh no, I see, through some halfhearted googling, the Bank of America is CCFA's bank! That explains ... something?

I give up. Too much homework (a state which will change next Thursday midnight) has obviously addled my brain.



Neat fact of the day: you can warm dying rechargeable AA batteries in your hands and they will then work in your camera. Wow! I guess it's better then if they exploded. Or is it? Eh. Useless post. Back to homework.

What a fascinating life you DO lead.

Still swamped in homework. Today's infuriations (also known as Information Policy class lecture and discussion topic) include:

- Data Privacy - We should all be either very afraid or very pissed. Oh, and ready to move to Europe, where they DON'T consider their corporations/organizations as individuals in a court of law.

- The freaking undead Patriot Act (too late for Halloween). Seriously. The official name, which never fails to crack my shit up, is: the Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism Act of 2001. Lame, old white men. So, so lame. Besides, that mnemonic acronym shit only works in Music and Science class. Oh, damn, you knew that.

- COPA. Actually, I don't know why this one pisses me off yet, past the initial freedom of speech smushing. I guess that means I should be doing homework. Oops.


Today's Happy Thingies include:

- Leftover Halloween candy. A. is the best partner EVER - he lets me eat all the caramels! Goodbye, teeth.

- A giant crap that looked like I passed my entire intestine. Yes, it's absolutely disgusting to write about that, I know. But this baby had form. It so rarely happens I can't bear to let such an event pass without mention. Also, it's interesting to note how Happy Thingies can sometimes resemble Infuriations.

- The realization that I've successfully cut myself down to 2.5, that's 125 milligrams, of azathioprine, rather than the 150 I've been on for the past two years. This is still in addition to all my other meds, obviously, but WOO! My immune system might be jumping up and down, screaming, waving its arms to warn me that hey, dipshit, what are you doing? But I feel great, and have felt great during the taper-down. We'll see what the doctor says next week, apart from "How are you feeling?" and "See you in six months."

- Cold weather. I love it.

Back to the homework.