Is There A Doctor In The House?

I'm just back from discussing my weird back problems with a doctor again, because right now all I want to do is claw at my shoulder and gauge out all the tendons, muscles and nerves because it feels like I have an itch way down deep in the flesh and it's not fun. It's worse than pain.

Anyways, the trip to the doctor was pretty uneventful, apart from her giving me a letter to pass on to whoever is unlucky enough to end up as my doctor in Chester. This is that letter:
"XR CERVICAL SPINE
I note my findings on previous imaging. No evidence of bony cervical rib formation. The appearances of the right first and second ribs are felt secondary to an underlying cervical thoracic scoliotic deformity convex to the left, the apex of which is at TI. Given the presentation referral to Orthopeadics could be considered."
WTF does this mean? I can gather that I don't have cervical ribs, I'm deformed(!!) and need to go see some Orthopeadics. I suck at doctor lingo, so anything else is beyond me. Please help.

The doctor did say I may require surgery.

The Reason is You

I said in my first post that I started blogging to get all my 'big thoughts' out (something I'm yet to accomplish) and I stand by that, but I have another reason now as well. I was almost giving up, I had lost my enthusiasm. That is, until I discovered The Bloggess and the beautiful sense of community surrounding her blog.

I was reading through some of her old posts (ok all of them - I was hooked) when I came to the James Garfield Christmas Miracle. I cried, honestly. To think that all these strangers came together to give each other hope, support and assistance. It was beautiful and it moved me. I want to be a part of something like that, to belong to such a fantastic network of people. To be there with them through their laughter and joy, sorrow and heartache, and to assist them whenever and how ever I can.

Basically what I'm trying to say is hello blogosphere! I'm here for the long haul and I hope you'll have me.

Cheerio Belfast

Today I found out that my ID has been posted out and will arrive within the next week. I was surprised that rather than relieved I felt a surge of sadness at leaving this place. I wanted to say goodbye to the place that has been home to me for the last seven years. It was this city and its people that helped to shape me into the confused little person I am today.

I took the scenic route, through culture filled alleys crammed with quirky bars and whimsical street art, to my favourite spot in Belfast; it's a wall set off the main road outside a gay bar and just round the corner from the Circus School. I love it because the surrounding area is full of memories for me. From here I can see the Albert Clock and the Royal Mail building, which to many people would seem like strange markers but to me they are symbolic buildings around which many of my teenage years revolved. I spent many a drunken afternoon running through the fountains by the Albert Clock and the immense, mirrored facade of the Royal Mail was on the receiving end of many long, admiring gazes while I was high as a kite.

I walked through subways that made me heady with memories, flashbacks from a booze-filled, carefree time. It made me think of happy times with friends I have loved and who I have grown away from. Moving from here is going to be hard, some of the happiest days of my life have been spent wandering through this city, but I now realise that there is very little left here for me. Today I wandered these streets alone. thete

Dear Stephen Merchant

I saw you on Chatty Man with Alan Carr and you said that you are looking for a woman. Is this true? If so I would like to apply for the position Post-haste. I know that you said small women were problematic, and compared to you I am the size of a pea, but I think you are simply unaware of the benefits of having a pixie for a girlfriend, for instance
-We small folk are very good at being the 'little spoon'.
-My head makes for a very good arm rest.
-It doesn't take a lot to get me drunk so I'm a cheap date.

The first time I saw you I kinda knew we were meant to be together, and when I saw you on Chatty Man it only proved that I was correct. Then I was tweeting about it and some guy said he would totally pay to watch us get it on so not only is our love *beautiful* it is also *marketable*.

Lots of love,
                 Robyn xox

P.S. If you could please get back to me on this by October. It's my cousin's wedding and it would be really good if you could make it.

P.P.S. To show you how good we look together I am attaching a mock-up of us that my friend Patrick made. Obviously I am standing on a dwarf's shoulders to give myself a boost because in reality there is no way my head is reaching your shoulders.

Why Girls Should Earn More Money Than Guys

You know the way there's still inequality in the workplace? Yeah, me neither, I don't know anything about that type of thing seeing as I'm chronically unemployed.  But if they aren't going to make things equal they should totally swing it the other way. Ya wanna know why? It's so much more expensive being a woman. Here's my reasoning:
1. Tampons.
Women need tampons and men don't. Unless they've been doing some weird shit, in which case I don't want to know. Ever. At all. Not one little bit... Ok, maybe an ounce.

2. Toilet Paper.
Us girls use more toilet paper than the average man because we wipe for #1s as well as #2s. This obviously means we spend more on money on it than men. Logic.

3. Hair and Make-Up.
Alright, not every woman needs these things, some people prefer to go 'Au Naturale' and kudos if you're.one of them, I wish I had your confidence. But for all us woman who are too insecure to go out looking like our naturally beautiful selves, the cost of using make-up and hair products every day makes our monthly expenditure sky rocket.

These things are the only three reasons I can think of right now.

On a totally unrelated note, how painful are periods and childbirth? Not that I actually know about the childbirth thing but still, I've heard it's pretty bad.

My Biggest Achievement

So I went to the doctor one day to see what was up with the letter they sent to say they found an abnormality when doing an X-ray of my back. So me and my doctor are sitting wondering what was going on there and he felt my chest (get your mind out of the gutter) and I was like "oh hey, could this be anything to do with my super-flexible shoulders?" And Mr. Doctor was all inquisitive so I showed him how I could lick my elbow and he had never heard that humans aren't meant to be able to be able to do that so he was all "hmm" and tried.

And that was the greatest achievement of my life.

10 Reasons Why I Love My New Phone

1. The many free photography apps.
I can take photos that look like they were taken with a pinhole camera and then adorn them with cute little icons. My favourite discovery so far is Retro Camera, with 6 'cameras' to choose from.
2. HeyTell.
Need I say more? This nifty little app allows me to send voice messages to friends all over the globe at the push of a button, not to mention it's free to download and use.
3. Social networking.
Because of this baby I'm never more than a finger tip from a quick chat. My internet presence must have increased hundred-fold since I booted this baby up on Monday night.
4. I'm never bored.
I am the proud owner of an android phone, and as such I have the power to download ad many apps as I want, whenever and wherever I want (provided I have signal).
5. I have a camera!
I know I mentioned photography, but I forgot to mention the benefits of actually having a camera for the first time in over a year. No more missing out on great photo opportunities, if I see stomething fun or interesting, I can snap a pic there and then (which would have been handy when I spotted that phallic cloud). I can also document days when I feel particularly pretty.
6. I don't have to put up with my old phone.
Ah, the old Sony Ericsson J100i, with its loud, angry vibrate setting that was reminiscent of a viscous wasp. It had its down sides, but at the end of the day it was a phone with personality. True to form, like a thwarted lover, it stopped acting up and proclaimed "I'll change, I swear!" the minute my new phone arrived.
7. MOAR BLOGGING!
There's a handy Blogger app for Android that means I can now blog on the go, as soon as the mood hits..
8. Barrr
My favourite free game so far. Run a pirate bar and ensure you get all your pirate customers to their correct station. Unfortunately there are only 10 levels, so not much play time, though one of those levels is called 'Guybrush's Locker', a shout out to the best sea-faring game that ever there was, yarrgh!
9. Flashlight.
How many people can sympathize here? You're on your way to bed, hit the light and BAM! You're navigating the stairs in the dark, wishing you had a bloody torch. It's a situation I find myself in every night, and one I have to repeat if I need to go to the loo in the middle of the night because there's something wrong with the upstairs lights. Now I can significantly lower the risk of death by using my flashlight app. :)
10. It's upped my cool factor.
Yeah, not really, but it's true that I no longer feel that all too familiar wash of shame come over me when removing my phone from my pocket in public.
And let's not forget that you, the readers, will also benefit from my decision to upgrade due to a greater post frequency and more aesthetically pleasing blog. Now now, no need to thank me.

Douteux

To move or not to move, that is the question.

Originally the answer was pretty easy, Chester was the obvious choice. Life would be easier living with my dad, I'd have a whole lot less to worry about. Plus there was nothing really for me in Belfast, I was homeless, unhappy and had an almost non-existant social life.

But now things are far more complicated. I'm happier here now. Friends have sprung out of the woodwork, some who I thought hated me and others who have fantastic qualities that I was previously blind to. There's still the not-so-little issue of homelessness, but I'm sure I can work something out.

I think right now I'm just waiting for the decider, for something to just come along and choose for me. It's not like there's a wrong decision, by not going to Chester I won't be missing out on some major job opportunity, I can always just go some other time if things don't work out in Belfast. Nothing's set in stone.

Alas, even if I knew I wanted to move to Chester I would have to wait the three or four weeks that it's going to take for my photographic ID to get here. If anything's going to happen to make up my mind, it has quite some time in which to do so, no rush. Chillax.

A whole lot can happen in three weeks.

Let's Have Some Fun

This beat is sick
I wanna take a ride on your PENIS.

When the majority of people cancelled for my birthday celebrations, I anticipated a rather fruitless night. Opinion did not change when Abbie, Jonathan and I, upon arriving at Lavery's, were promptly asked for ID. Which none bar Jonathan had. It just didn't bode well.
But all was not as it seemed, after getting knocked back from Lavery's we thought "HEY let's walk down this here road and go to Ma Nelson's." Couldn't have made a better decision. Abbie bumped into her friend Ciaran, my amigo Simon came along and then, summoned by Ciaran, up popped my friend Sean. We were an odd little sixpiece, each widely different from the next, but we got along like a row of terraced houses on fire. Abbie and Sean did some Karaoke, Jonathan dedicated some Rick Astley to me and I danced around like an idiot, becoming rather drunk as the night wore on.


All too soon it was time for us to part ways, with Simon, Abbie, Jonathan and I getting a lift from Simon's lovely mum. Back at Abbie's it was on to the Onion Rings and Just Dance, singing and general craziness that was well documented in videos and pictures on Abbie's camera.

Today arrived with a mild hangover in tow, and a sign on time of 1:15pm, which I was a bit late for. Jonathan accompanied me, in all his Middle Class glory, to the dole office. Yeo. After signing on we were walking along Howard Street and I said to him, I says "We should stop and get coffee at the next non-chain place we find, and directly after the words had left my mouth I was handed a leaflet for The Bakery, Belfast's newest Eatery. Go there, immediately. It's shabby chic heaven, and the coffee's delightful. The baked goods looked pretty good too, but I was unable to partake in the eating of them as I am cursed with Coeliac disease, and Jonathan's just turned into a bloody vegan so I couldn't ask for his opinion.
Then Jonathan bought me a new pair of black skinny jeans, because my current pair developed a rather gaping hole.

Coincidentally, it was July 20th last year that I purchased them. A new tradition, perhaps? Henceforth, July 20th shall be The Day of the New Black Skinny Jeans.


Oh, I forgot to mention, my bum is a wonderland.

It Was 20 Years Ago Today

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play.

Well, actually, no. But it has been twenty years since the day I was born. That's right folks, on this day in 1991 my darling mother was given an emergency ceasarian and baby me was ripped from the womb in a most undignified manner. I was bright green, covered in excrement from defecating myself due to the distress caused by my placenta disintegrating. I had been due on June 22nd, but had obviously found my mother's uterus far too comfy and decided that I would stick around for another month, my foetal adaptation of "Five more minutes," a pattern I have continued throughout my life.

On hearing she had given birth to a healthy baby girl, my mother is said to have spoken the fateful words, "That's nice love, go ask the nurse if I can have a fag." My dad and his mum wept tears of joy at the new, ginger baby girl that had been brought into the world. Unfortunately for them, what they took for gingerness was actually blood caked into my hair.

Legend has it, I was also born with teeth...