tilly_stratford: (LS: Please run)
I haven't said anything because I don't want to jinx it, but I've recently taken up running. I haven't exercised in any way after I moved away from my beloved yoga studio in Bergen two years ago, and even though I've been gaining weight non-stop since then it's been hard to find any motivation. And running? All through school I absolutely hated it; The humiliation of finishing last, suffering through side stitches and shin splints and leg cramps...

The big incentive came through an app. Actually, more of an play built into an app. It's called Zombies, Run! and is a sort of audio play where you're a character, and have to run and gather supplies for a small town in zombie-infested England. Not very interactive while you're running I'm afraid, though it records your speed, route and pace, and you get to play a resources-managing game on the website after you've completed your run. Mostly it offers well-written drama, fascinating characters and some great audio editing. I'm not even a general fan of zombie fiction -- I just enjoy the characters and the universe.

Actually I haven't graduated to the main app yet, I'm currently going through its Couch-to-5K sister app set in the same universe. It's very good, and helps me pace myself. The main thing I like about it is it doesn't make me think "Well I ought to go exercise I guess", instead I think "I need to know what happens next!"; and with episodes clocking in at a little over thirty minutes I usually can find the time to go for a quick run.

Sadly it's just been two weeks and I've already managed to hurt myself, which prompted this entry. I'm both frustrated at not being able to go running today, and not getting to progress the story. I blame using the wrong shoes, and running mostly on asphalt (though my running form is probably not as good as it should be neither). My P.E. teacher used to harp on about the importance of high-quality shoes but silly me thought my sister's second-hand zumba shoes would work for a while. Once my knee heals up I'll go to a proper sports good store and let them recommend me something better.
tilly_stratford: (Deadpool day)
Guess what's back? My old friend insomnia!

Let's see, it's five A.M, that means I've been going strong for forty-one hours straight! It's not even one of those anxiety insomnias I used to get before an exam, no; things were going pretty well and then bam - even spending eight hours lying in bed with my eyes closed doesn't work, not even with chemical help.

The upshot is that I've straightened out some obstacles in my newest writing project these last couple of nights. I've been dreadfully negligent of my writing after I left the Academy - not so much as a short story in several years. Lots of ideas though, always a ton of ideas. But I've figured that this is the time for it: I'm in a mentally and emotionally unfullfilling job, I'm free from university tasks, and doodling in Sai isn't doing it anymore. I want to go back to creating.

Well actually now I want to sleep.

But you can't have it all.

Grumpy gus

Apr. 9th, 2012 08:18 pm
tilly_stratford: (Darkwing: not convinced)
As if I'm not emotionally vulnerable enough these days (SUCH a crybucket), I've developed not only one, but two cold sores on my upper lip. A personal record. And in spite of what the ads tell you, those clear cold sore plasters, while pretty effective, don't stay on when you eat or drink. Which means I'm trying out this new style of drinking which doesn't involve the upper lip at all. Still haven't quite perfected it.

Another problem with cold sores are that they generally can't be confused with a bruised lip from fighting. So I can't make up any badass stories when people point to my mouth and make sympathetic noises.

Another grievance: Nordic TCM's current programming just won't do. See, my mum's got TCM (or the Cartoon Network/TCM hybrid channel) and also DVR, and I always get a lot of mileage out of both when I'm visiting. There's usually at least one movie per night to peak my interest, but looking at the listings now... Some C-list Westerns, and late eighties comedies (when did that become TCM material?), it's hugely disappointing.

TCM's Norwegian website is also a complete joke. It was last updated in October and there are broken links and typos everywhere. A far cry from the main TCM site, which I actually use as a handy resource.

On the upside, there is lots of candy and cats here to bury my woes in.


Oct. 3rd, 2011 03:36 am
tilly_stratford: (Deadpool day)
I think we're looking at a fever situation here. I have a hard time deciding whether I'm cold or burning up.

In addition, before I went to bed I did some dread maintenance, and now my scalp aches like hell whenever it's in contact with something (such as, you know, a pillow).

Also when I close my eyes I keep hearing Billy Idol songs in my head.

I'm not entirely sure if that last one is a symptom of anything but you can never be too sure with these things.
tilly_stratford: (Kaizer: Humping Terje)
I've done all my little "unwind when you can't sleep" routines; I've played Tetris, I've sketched, I've made Lupin GIFs... Actually I really feel like playing more Assassin's Creed, but I know that'd only make me forget to go to sleep at all.

So whatever, random fannish thoughts help keep those "everything sucks and what are you doing with your life anyway" thoughts at bay:

Let's see; Assassin's Creed, Lupin, Scarface, Le Samouraï, and samurais )

Okay, so what if I just do my "going to bed" routine all over again? Make a cup of tea, watch an episode of Pink Jacket, cuddle the cat. Maybe my body didn't notice the first time.
tilly_stratford: (Constantine: Sly smoke)
Unexpectedly waking up at four o'clock in the morning on a Saturday when you went to bed very late (having been kept up by the noise from the party in the neighbouring building), and not being able to fall asleep again, now what is the point of that?

I'm nauseous, hungry, have a headache, and I spilled water on my laptop (don't worry, I turned it off and let it air dry upside down - it seems okay, though the backspace key is not as responsive as I'd like)... Generally feeling a bit miserable.

But not so miserable that I didn't get a kick out of seeing bits from the final Giffen and DeMatteis-made Justice League International story over at Scans_Daily (Is that Cluemaster? I love Cluemaster! And silly me didn't even know Ted Kord's full name!). Aw bless. I really need to get back on my JLI reading, Booster or no Booster.

Speaking of DC comics, I still haven't seen the final season of Batman: The Brave and the Bold (i.e. BEST COMIC-RELATED ADAPTION EVER). I need to get on that, pronto.
tilly_stratford: (LS: Please run)
My dentist remains uncommonly likable.

"So have you had any problems with your teeth lately?"


"Well shit."

- Though of course these are my teeth, which means every dentist appointment is another fight against the ongoing decay. i.e., I had one cavity in a molar, as well as WAY too much calculus/tartar (I love how both words in English also stand for completely unrelated things).

And yes, I give myself props on being the responsible adult, making appointments without having a toothache or something like that pressing me. I've come a long way with my phobia of dentists; I've even learned to relax a lot more when I'm in the chair, knowing that once the local anesthetic kicks in, I'm just along for the ride.

But today? Today was PURE PAIN. I can't remember the last time I was in so much pain. Filling the cavity was a breeze, but the crazy buildup of calculus meant a lot of painful scraping with that icky pick thing (which is apparently called a "periodontal scaler"). I'm a fairly restrained person, I was making some ungodly noises and tears were running down my face and ugh. And like I said, I like my dentist, he treats me like an adult; but at the end of this session he stroked my cheek and told me I'd done well. And in any other context that would have made me mad as hell, but right then and there I appreciated the gesture.

He told me that he'd make an exception for me and advice me to start using toothpicks, because flossing didn't cut it anymore. Also that I should start seeing him bi-annualy to keep it in check ("I know if you could choose you'd see me every day, but my wife is starting to suspect us.").

I hate my teeth. Excuse me while I go crawl into a ball until the pain passes.
tilly_stratford: (Holmes: Curious collection)
There's that point in the night, you know, when you're suffering from a migraine and you keep telling yourself "Just sleep, sleep is the best remedy for migraines" and then "But I can't sleep, the migraine's keeping me awake". So you try to think of random things to just calm down, but even thinking too hard means pain, so you keep jumping from subject to subject until you find something that you can just quietly mull over without getting too involved.

My subject last night was apparently "I wonder what Inspector Juve is supposed to look like?"

You know, Inspector Juve from the Fantômas books. I haven't thought about those stories for years.

It still strikes me as very untypical of me to enjoy the valiant-officer-of-the-law character more than the flamboyant-and-daring-criminal-mastermind character (Fantômas got a cape and everything, I should be all over that). I think it can partially be explained by how Fantômas is an actual murdering psychopath, but also by how Juve is not only your typical brave and true French police officer, but also a master of disguise himself, equally adept at deception as the villain he's devoted his life to catch (with the added bonus of the Victorian affectations of his time, of course - manly men holding other manly men's hands in affectionate yet totally manly ways and so on).

You know, I just really want to get my hands on more Fantômas books. Ah! The second book in the series is even titled The Exploits of Juve! My heart!
tilly_stratford: (Bogie)
Have a cold. Going through another insomnia phase. Drawing up a storm (smudged charcoal everywhere, will hopefully get my big self-indulgent fanarty project done in a month's time or so)

Overall, enjoying my vacation. Tiny and I watched another season and a half of The Wire (and then when I caught an episode of Boardwalk Empire on the telly I had a moment of "JESUS CHRIST THAT'S OMAR"). I'm currently at my mum's, going to accompany her to work today and possibly feel like I'm eight years old again (I remember my first introduction to computers at one of mum's jobs. Playing Snake and drawing in PorwerPoint for hours!).

Realized that even lounging in an empty house all day I don't feel even the tiniest inclination to turn on the TV. Though Get TV's ad-free radio channels are pretty great (There's nothing like illustrating a gun fight while listening to Johnny Cash. And then being violently pulled out of the mood when Neil Sedaka starts to play).

I can't think of a way to wrap up this entry, too groggy after only two hours of sleep.
tilly_stratford: (Cat: Miyazaki handle with care)
Having another period with insomnia, I can only seem to manage a couple hours of sleep every night. Constant headache and nausea not good, but at least two hours of sleep per day is better than none. Anyway I don't need a lot of energy to play video games and draw anyway, which is what I'm doing these days.

So instead of being negative I'm going to mention how the sky looked completely breathtaking tonight as the sun was setting - the light spilling all over like the delicious runny yolk of a perfectly fried egg (and remind me not to try to wax poetic ever again when I'm this sleepy).

After three years I still love the view from my window.
tilly_stratford: (Bogie)
Gosh, those histamines really take it out of you, don't they? At least I do sleep at night now (though not nearly for as many hours as I'm used to), but I spend the next day with a pretty uncooperative body, something halfway between a rag doll and Plastic Man (maybe if I just practice a bit I'll be able to go full Plastic Man and then I can do all my chores without ever getting up from my seat again).

I try to regain control over my body by going for walks, mostly in places with low traffic (as I'm a bit groggy still and not completely trustful of my senses), which means I go places I don't usually go and notice things I've walked straight past before. Today I walked halfway round the bay Store Lungegårdsvannet and noticed for the first time a memorial pillar to seven members of the Royal Australian Air Force (463rd Squadron) who were killed in an attempt to destroy the u-boat bunker in the bay in 1944. I couldn't help but notice that the senior officer (and oldest crew member) was only one year older than me.

I haven't got any clever or deep observations to come with at this find, only that I seem to be tripping over bits of history with every step in this city. And I get the exact same jolt of surprise every time I realize all those bits of history involved real, actual people.
tilly_stratford: (Trek: Spock bitchfit)
Back from the doctor's - or rather, the ER, as I was told it was the only option available as my registered doctor is on the other side of the country. Haven't slept for three days at this point. (Fun hallucinations last night included being momentarily convinced there was a fire in the apartment, and a taste in my mouth of custard gone sour that just wouldn't go away).

Thankfully I got a prescription for histamines to numb me down tonight, I'm feeling very optimistic - but oh God, I'd rather take four pap smears than go through that consultation again. I know my appearance doesn't do me any favours, but it still came as a shock to me how readily the doctor believed I was a drug addict. At first he was reluctant to prescribe me anything, it was only when I started crying (he dutifully wrote down in the journal, "The patient shows a tendency to weep when talking about not sleeping.") he agreed to help me, but he told me that I shouldn't come back.

Jesus Christ, I realize there must be recreational drug users coming there for their fix, but man, did he really think I came there to get a buzz from goddamn allergy medication? It's horrible to talk to a doctor who doesn't believe you.

But still, I'll be damned if I'm going to let him ruin my day. I'm going for a walk, gonna collect my meds, and try to enjoy the day.
tilly_stratford: (Cat: Miyazaki handle with care)
I've had a lot of side effects from insomnia before, but these hallucinations are really something else.

I actually hear people that aren't there. Moving around in my apartment. An hour ago they hummed a rather cheerful song in the kitchen. After that they started whispering to me. That was new. And kind of horrifying.

But don't worry, they didn't tell me to do bad things or anything, though they did talk about some kind of "conspiracy". And then Celtic etymology? It was all rather disjointed, but apparently even the figments of my imagination are kind of geeky.

Notice I'm actually being kind of calm about this? Even though I'm sort of scared I might be going bona fide insane? Anyway I've tried crying, that didn't seem to help, and I've tried to call everyone but of course they're all asleep and can't hear the phone ringing (I really don't blame them, I would so too if I could, it's just kind of a bummer for me right now), so I'm thinking the best course of action right now is bitter resignation. And then if I can keep a smidgen of my sanity 'till Tuesday I can get that sweet, sweet student discount at that doctor's I like.

The question right now is whether to put on a movie or something to keep the scary insane stuff away, or go back to bed and try to sleep (with the risk of the noises returning).
tilly_stratford: (Trek: Spock bitchfit)

NAAAGH my "falling asleep" button is broken again. Doesn't matter if you go to bed at a reasonable hour, yawning every five seconds, that headache from too little sleep trying to nudge out your left eyeball. Doesn't matter if you more or less manage to empty your mind for half-an-hour's time, waiting to finally doze off (and then spend the next hours trying to silence that voice going "OH GOD YOU'VE GOT SO MUCH TO DO TOMORROW YOU HAVE TO SLEEP NOW OH SHIT WHY AREN'T YOU SLEEPING").

Doesn't matter if you take your fucking sleep medication...!

I really feel I play by the rules, whatever rules I've come to imagine there are to falling asleep. But right now it feels like I'm playing a rigged game. I can't win, no matter how laughably easy it looks.

What makes it worse is that it's been so long since I had these kinds of insomnia problems. I vaguely remember periods when I managed to mostly focus on how incredibly dull it is to go to bed by 11 and lie there utterly awake until the clock rings at 7. I was a complete zombie, of course, but I could observe my sleep deficit in an entertainingly detached way. I tried to mostly combat the boredom.

I would so much rather that sense of mind right now, because now I'm anxious and jittery and worried by the fact that I never understand why this happens on some nights and not on others. This is all me - there isn't an outside force that makes my hands tremble this much. Even looking over the text I've written so far is oddly fascinating, because to my eyes it's washing back and forth and up and down - not quite like water, but like how I would imagine the waves in The Tempest looking in a moderately well-off threatre production.

Whoo there they go. (Silly me had half a plan to while away the worst parts of the night playing Assassin's Creed II, which my buddy Åsmund graciously lent to me today, but something tells me that if I get a bit overwhelmed at the dancing of a wall of text I've just written, running around in Renaissance Italy finding allies, collecting feathers and elegantly murdering people (well okay that last one still sounds fun) might a bit too much for me to handle in my present state. My God was that a run-on sentence.)

You know, I've never ever, not once been drunk in my entire life. I imagine it's something between this half-cocked way of experiencing the world around you, and probably something like what I felt that time they gave me anaesthesia before my operation. There's probably more to it though, since people seem to be so fond of getting drunk.

Yes, you could tell from the second paragraph on that I'm hesitant to go back to bed. But I should, shouldn't I? Give it another go? Give it yet another go...
tilly_stratford: (Holmes: Whisper)
There is a point where a lack of sleep makes even the smallest sensory stimuli completely overwhelming. I reached my limit at four o'clock this morning.

There was one solitary bird.

On those occasions when I do lie in bed getting more and more frustrated at seeing the sky gradually lightening five hours after I began my futile attempt at a night's sleep, there's only ever one bird. This one was chirping its little heart out, apparently violently overcome by the joy to be alive on a Monday morning at four o'clock.

It was the most grating noise I had ever heard. Every throaty chirp seemed to connect like a punch to a particularly sensitive spot in my inner ear. But inexplicably, it was also at that precise moment the most beautiful sound I'd ever come across. I'm not joking. I was somewhere smack between wanting to kill that bird for that godawful noise, and starting to cry because those five notes it sang again and again in quick succession struck me as so painfully perfect, I wanted to memorize them so I could put them in a song that would definitely become an international hit.

That is, until the moment passed, I realized I was experiencing one of those sensory-overload sensations I sometimes get when I'm exhausted, and I rolled back into bed and tried, again, to sleep.

Three minutes later some obscure brain synapse twitched and I immediately remembered a cartoon I'd scrolled past on my Tumblr dash the day before, and though it had only sparked some recognition from me then ("Oh silly Red Lanterns and their rage vomiting"), at four o'clock it struck me as so intensely funny I went from drifting-off-to-sleep to bent over double in bed howling and choking on my laughter in 0.002 seconds. I had to muffle myself with my pillow, tears streaming down my face at laughing so hard. And then it ended just as abruptly, and I fell back in bed, contemplating the ceiling.

I still haven't gotten any sleep, but you know - who needs drugs? (Except possibly for sleeping pills. Yes, I think Tilly's gonna treat herself to one of those tiny little oblong ones tonight).
tilly_stratford: (Astaire: Wry smile)
A fabulous weekend, as expected. I don't know how many times mum, Tiny and me were howling and sobbing with laughter in Bergen's various restaurants, shops and in our hotel room, but there was a lot of that. We've got dozens of new in-jokes and you-had-to-be-theres, which tend to happen whenever we three spend longer periods of time together.

My cold is still very much present (and today I heard I've apparently infected Tiny) but that didn't slow me too much down, and anyway it was lovely being sick in a pristine, warm hotel room rather than my chaotic and frequently chilly loft. Of course, now that they've left the weather is absolutely lovely after a weekend of cold and rain.

Got a fill of various recent movies too; Tiny and I saw The King's Speech (which was OH GOD SO GOOD), then all three of us watched Knight and Day (which was OH GOD SO BAD), before Tiny and I ended it all on Despicable Me (which was... somewhere in between).

Oooh and mum bought me a sheepskin bomber jacket! You've no idea how much I adore it, I've wanted one of those since I was about five years old! It is very probably the coolest garment I've ever owned. Also the warmest (though you've got that women's jackets-paradox where it's a small jacket, but it keeps what little is covered exceptionally warm). And coolest, did I mention the coolest? Though Tiny said I looked like a Rescue Ranger and threatens to start calling me Snipp (which is Chip's Norwegian name).

Brilliant, brilliant weekend all around.
tilly_stratford: (ST: The bitches love it)
Tomorrow my mum and Tiny arrive for their weekend in Bergen on migraine business (my mum is the head of Norway's Migraine Association and they're doing grown-up meeting stuff). They've booked an extra bed at the hotel so I can play at being a tourist in this city, that's going to be so fun and weird. And yezz girly weekend, I've never had both my mum and sister in Bergen at the same time, this is going to be so brilliant!

Meanwhile I've come down with a cold (I swear I'm not constantly barraged by illnesses, I've just forgotten to mention this last month that I was in tip-top shape) so while there are loads of things that I ought to get out of the way, I've mostly spent this evening curled up in bed with my fever, a hot-water bottle, a blanket, a big carton of orange juice (Vitamin C work your magic!) and my collection of downloaded cartoons.

(I acted on a friendly advice and watched the Justice League episode 'The Greatest Story Never Told', which was, surprise!, the Booster episode. And gosh was it adorable and geeky and clever! Daww Skeets, you're quoting 2001: A Space Odyssey again. Also screw you Batman you're not my dad!! *slams door*)

Fever, OJ, cartoons. Family tomorrow. Excellent.


Jan. 12th, 2011 12:08 am
tilly_stratford: (Constantine: Sly smoke)
Silly me, almost forgetting that it's against the rules to get a full night's sleep the night before the class briefing at the university. Good thing I've got my cough to keep me awake. End sarcasm.

I already suspect this entry is going to make me sound way more negative than I actually am, because really, I do love being back in this city again and returning to all my odd little routines and just comfortably slipping into this me mold that I've spent two and half years lovingly constructing... It's just that I haven't had the best start at it this time around.

Firstly, I think the trip back to Bergen might have aggravated my, well I wouldn't call it my illness, let's call it my "health issues" (like the aforementioned cough, and I would really like to regain the hearing in my right ear one of these days if it's not asking too much pretty please), and my back's out of it again. Also, it seems I left my rooms in slightly worse conditions than I remembered, and I'd really loved to tidy everything up but my back's clearly nixing that. I'd call my select family members for sympathy but my phone's out of juice and I forgot the charger at my mum's.

Also when I first walked in, the biggest spider I've ever seen on my side of a terrarium was chillin' over my bed.

So yes, sulk sulk sulk. Meanwhile I'm actually not freaking out about school (heads up, this might be the last instance this semester) and I've got my volume 2 of Dark Avengers to read. Here's hoping Gargan eats somebody's head, that would cheer my up even more.
tilly_stratford: (Fops with canes are teh sex)
You know, there are several similarities between this bout of influenza-with-added-infections-no-extra-charge and that time I had mono: Like being long-term ill, lying in my mum's living room all day, too little sleep and salivating over Greg Wise in period costume.

Greg Wise in period costume obviously being the best part.

I can thank my bout of mono for introducing me to the Hornblower series (and by extension Greg Wise with a French accent in nineteenth Century uniform), which was running as daytime television at the time, while I've now had the time to watch Return to Cranford (which also features something like six of my favourite actors).

Ooh that Greg Wise. I've never seen you in jeans and I hope I never will.

Speaking of Return to Cranford, I think it's time to come out of the closet and admit that my favourite female actress of all time isn't any of the classic Hollywood leading ladies, it isn't one of those current sexy babes running around with guns akimbo, it. is. Dame Judi Dench. Goddamnit how I love Judi Dench.
tilly_stratford: (Default)
I'm really not used to being sick. Not like this, where you don't progress in the normal way by falling ill and then getting better day by day. Yesterday I felt pretty good. Today I believe my fever is back, my nose is both stuffy and runny (and blood comes out every time I wipe it), my ear is aching much more again and oh God the coughing.

I don't know what it is with the flu this year but it sticks to you a long time.

/daily post about how I hate being sick. Thrilling as always.


tilly_stratford: (Default)

March 2015



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