(no subject)
2017/01/22, Sunday: Woke up, still in pretty bad, arresting pain, so I called the advice nurse and she said to go to the ER, which I did. My neighbor Murika drove me and stayed there until my mom showed up a bit later. I got in to a bed pretty fast, there were just a few other folks in the ER, but I think they put me ahead because of my recent surgery and possibility for complications. They took blood and urine, put in a catheter in my arm (which I did NOT like but was still better than an IV I guess). They did an ultrasound to see if there was a retained stone or cyst.
Ultrasound was totally normal, my labs were all completely normal (which impressed the ER doc, he said most people have 1 or 2 out of the 60 that are off a bit). It was anticlimactic but I was OK with that. He then wanted to talk pain management. I told him that the Norco I'd taken the night before had made me pretty high but did absolutely nothing for the pain. He hemmed a bit and said he could offer Percocet, and I told him I'd taken that for my shoulder surgery and did well on it, so he wrote me a scrip for 10 (!) for breakthrough pain. AHEM. I went into the ER because I had constant, excruciating pain, and here they were worried I was abusing painkillers or something. JFC. I took it thought, and went home and made Sriracha mac and cheese from the Homeroom cookbook, like I'd planned to, only in far less discomfort, and not high as fuck. Sabine came over and had dinner with me, and we had a good visit.
We talked about politics some (how could we not) and ended up disagreeing on whether her making fun of Trump's tiny hands was body-shaming. She argued it wasn't, because it wasn't about them being tiny (or anything), it was about her bringing up something that bothered him to annoy him. I was still kinda out of it on Percocet so I just let it drop. Now that I'm not high, I conclude: Trump's not reading her Facebook posts, nor is her method explained to everyone who reads them, so whatever her intent, she's body-shaming him and only making her readers feel bad. I think I am not... interested in her sexually anymore.
She left, and I spent the rest of the night just goofing off.
2017/01/23, Monday: Woke up, got out of bed, had bad pain again, so I took a Norco, thinking I needed to save the Percocet for school. Luckily, I didn't need one later on. Heather gave me a ride in. Class was Industrial Pneumatics and Hydraulics, instructor is an engineer named Nate. I was one of seven people wearing a plaid shirt. I was the only woman. I was probably the only person who got total stink-eye from That One Student, whose name I don't know yet.
But my buddy Kwazho from machine shop last semester was there, and Allan, who is at least friendly to me (although I find him annoying). Aaron sat next to me and was pretty chill in a pothead kind of way, actually said goodbye to me specifically by name as he left. I think the guy on my left was Darren? He was chill, works at the Port of Oakland as a crane mechanic, never been to college before but trying to learn new skills so he can get a better job (a lot of us there are). White Aaron is going to DVC and lives in Martinez, comes out to Laney for classes because while DVC offers an industrial machine program, all of their classes are technically... at Laney. Except for Stinkeye, I didn't notice any especial attention. I think the plaid helped me blend in.
2017/01/24, Tuesday: Woke up, need a painkiller again. Mom dropped off laundry and my Costco stuff she picked up for me, then drove me to school. I tried to get a student ID and LET ME TELL YOU, THAT'S NOT EASY.
First I tried the "Student Center." The ground floor is the cafeteria, the basement is the bookstore, and the upstairs is like a lounge plus maybe where cooking is taught? I'm not sure! Nothing's labeled! I only found this out through trial and error! WTF! Once I was on the second floor and definitely out of options I asked a student if he knew where to get the photo IDs. He told me the triangular administration building, so I thanked him and there I went.
I found a sign at the empty security guard desk, OK, that stuff is in A-101. I find the A group of buildings on the map. I head over there, going down the stairs, only to find that I'm at A-160, A-156, and so on. I walk the length of the building, the numbers are still too high. I'm halfway down the other length of the building (we're talking about 8 classrooms long, I'd guess), when I stop and ask a person if they know where A-101 is, because I've gone from A-160 to A-140 and gone 3/4 of the way around the building. Mind, this is in one solid line, you can't cross sides without going all the way around, which is not fucking disabled friendly at all. She says it's at the end, I thank her, and sure enough, now the numbers start going down by 10's.
I get there, they say I need to print out my class schedule and have a photo ID. No problem, except my password for the online stuff is total auto-reset letter/number vomit, and I'll need to check my email. No dice, the computers won't let you check email. There's no cell signal down there. So I go outside, get the password, and come back, print out my schedule, and take my place. When it comes up, the schedule is no good--it doesn't show my name on it! Well, shit, it's the print version of "My Schedule" on the college's website and by then I've spent 45 minutes hobbling around campus trying to get this thing and now I have to go to my first class.
At least it's intro to welding, there are three or four or maybe even FIVE other women students, and the instructor reminds me so much of Stuart that I instantly like him. He's not much taller than me, maybe 5'8"? 5'9"? But he's lean and has a ponytail to his butt and he's Japanese, so, more phenotypically like Stuart than a white person would be. Perhaps most importantly, he has this sly, deadpan humor that makes me go Is he making a joke? He is making a joke... He's making a HILARIOUS joke OMG I'm dying I did not see that coming!
The first class was all syllabus and safety but I appreciated how Rich gave different examples of the concepts he was explaining by referencing movies, like Predator for infrared radiation, and The Right Stuff for oxygen fires. There was also this like, running thing, where he would say "I've seen some pretty serious injuries here. Not any of my students..." and "A student caught on fire once--not one of mine..."
Later on, when I headed to the machine shop and caught up with my old blueprints teacher Adam, I mentioned this, and Adam said he's got a rivalry going with another instructor, Dale. Adam took welding with Dale. One time, a student didn't know how to work the acetylene torch, and was just fiddling with it, turn dials... turning the acetylene dial open all the way... then trying to light it... all the while waving it around, and pointing it AT people, and at himself, and other students tried to approach him and begged him to shut it off and not try to light it, but eventually the dude does and causes an explosion in his booth from the acetylene in the air, and theeennn, Dale, who was watching this whole thing, gets out of his chair, comes over, and asks "Which of my students did this boneheaded thing?"
Suddenly, all of Rich's anecdotes of student injuries make sense. Dale likes to let his students burn to teach them not to touch flames, I guess. Now I'm extra-glad Rich is my teacher.
I ate dinner in the shop, and went to the classroom for the next machine shop class in the sequence. I saw Ethan again and was genuinely glad to see him. I missed berating him. He's kind of my new Brandon, I guess. Allan was also there. Allan was also in my welding class. I am already tired of Allan. Jennifer, at least, was there, so I wasn't the only woman in that class. But anyways, Louis did the syllabus and class rundown thing, then handed back last semester's projects, graded. I got a B on my drill press, not a huge surprise, I knew fuckall about everything thing, and got A-s on my lathe and mill project. I thought I'd get a better grade on the lathe since only one thing was out of spec (by .001", so, not a HUGE error), but still, I don't think I was graded unfairly either.
Ethan drove me home, I ate leftover mac n cheese, and goofed off on the internet. I may have one of those giant chocolate Costco muffins for dessert... or heck, I could have ice cream!
On the lawsuit front, I have a mediation date mid-February, and my therapist was deposed today. I'm a bit nervous about how that went... I don't exactly want all of my sexual assaults to be bandied about, you know? But I think she's irritated on my behalf that the insurance company for the way they're dragging this out and she'll stick to the stuff relevant to the concussion. I guess the insurance company is trying to blame my year off on the death of my grandmother, which, no. I loved her dearly but her death didn't rock me so hard that I was unable to work for a year.
Ultrasound was totally normal, my labs were all completely normal (which impressed the ER doc, he said most people have 1 or 2 out of the 60 that are off a bit). It was anticlimactic but I was OK with that. He then wanted to talk pain management. I told him that the Norco I'd taken the night before had made me pretty high but did absolutely nothing for the pain. He hemmed a bit and said he could offer Percocet, and I told him I'd taken that for my shoulder surgery and did well on it, so he wrote me a scrip for 10 (!) for breakthrough pain. AHEM. I went into the ER because I had constant, excruciating pain, and here they were worried I was abusing painkillers or something. JFC. I took it thought, and went home and made Sriracha mac and cheese from the Homeroom cookbook, like I'd planned to, only in far less discomfort, and not high as fuck. Sabine came over and had dinner with me, and we had a good visit.
We talked about politics some (how could we not) and ended up disagreeing on whether her making fun of Trump's tiny hands was body-shaming. She argued it wasn't, because it wasn't about them being tiny (or anything), it was about her bringing up something that bothered him to annoy him. I was still kinda out of it on Percocet so I just let it drop. Now that I'm not high, I conclude: Trump's not reading her Facebook posts, nor is her method explained to everyone who reads them, so whatever her intent, she's body-shaming him and only making her readers feel bad. I think I am not... interested in her sexually anymore.
She left, and I spent the rest of the night just goofing off.
2017/01/23, Monday: Woke up, got out of bed, had bad pain again, so I took a Norco, thinking I needed to save the Percocet for school. Luckily, I didn't need one later on. Heather gave me a ride in. Class was Industrial Pneumatics and Hydraulics, instructor is an engineer named Nate. I was one of seven people wearing a plaid shirt. I was the only woman. I was probably the only person who got total stink-eye from That One Student, whose name I don't know yet.
But my buddy Kwazho from machine shop last semester was there, and Allan, who is at least friendly to me (although I find him annoying). Aaron sat next to me and was pretty chill in a pothead kind of way, actually said goodbye to me specifically by name as he left. I think the guy on my left was Darren? He was chill, works at the Port of Oakland as a crane mechanic, never been to college before but trying to learn new skills so he can get a better job (a lot of us there are). White Aaron is going to DVC and lives in Martinez, comes out to Laney for classes because while DVC offers an industrial machine program, all of their classes are technically... at Laney. Except for Stinkeye, I didn't notice any especial attention. I think the plaid helped me blend in.
2017/01/24, Tuesday: Woke up, need a painkiller again. Mom dropped off laundry and my Costco stuff she picked up for me, then drove me to school. I tried to get a student ID and LET ME TELL YOU, THAT'S NOT EASY.
First I tried the "Student Center." The ground floor is the cafeteria, the basement is the bookstore, and the upstairs is like a lounge plus maybe where cooking is taught? I'm not sure! Nothing's labeled! I only found this out through trial and error! WTF! Once I was on the second floor and definitely out of options I asked a student if he knew where to get the photo IDs. He told me the triangular administration building, so I thanked him and there I went.
I found a sign at the empty security guard desk, OK, that stuff is in A-101. I find the A group of buildings on the map. I head over there, going down the stairs, only to find that I'm at A-160, A-156, and so on. I walk the length of the building, the numbers are still too high. I'm halfway down the other length of the building (we're talking about 8 classrooms long, I'd guess), when I stop and ask a person if they know where A-101 is, because I've gone from A-160 to A-140 and gone 3/4 of the way around the building. Mind, this is in one solid line, you can't cross sides without going all the way around, which is not fucking disabled friendly at all. She says it's at the end, I thank her, and sure enough, now the numbers start going down by 10's.
I get there, they say I need to print out my class schedule and have a photo ID. No problem, except my password for the online stuff is total auto-reset letter/number vomit, and I'll need to check my email. No dice, the computers won't let you check email. There's no cell signal down there. So I go outside, get the password, and come back, print out my schedule, and take my place. When it comes up, the schedule is no good--it doesn't show my name on it! Well, shit, it's the print version of "My Schedule" on the college's website and by then I've spent 45 minutes hobbling around campus trying to get this thing and now I have to go to my first class.
At least it's intro to welding, there are three or four or maybe even FIVE other women students, and the instructor reminds me so much of Stuart that I instantly like him. He's not much taller than me, maybe 5'8"? 5'9"? But he's lean and has a ponytail to his butt and he's Japanese, so, more phenotypically like Stuart than a white person would be. Perhaps most importantly, he has this sly, deadpan humor that makes me go Is he making a joke? He is making a joke... He's making a HILARIOUS joke OMG I'm dying I did not see that coming!
The first class was all syllabus and safety but I appreciated how Rich gave different examples of the concepts he was explaining by referencing movies, like Predator for infrared radiation, and The Right Stuff for oxygen fires. There was also this like, running thing, where he would say "I've seen some pretty serious injuries here. Not any of my students..." and "A student caught on fire once--not one of mine..."
Later on, when I headed to the machine shop and caught up with my old blueprints teacher Adam, I mentioned this, and Adam said he's got a rivalry going with another instructor, Dale. Adam took welding with Dale. One time, a student didn't know how to work the acetylene torch, and was just fiddling with it, turn dials... turning the acetylene dial open all the way... then trying to light it... all the while waving it around, and pointing it AT people, and at himself, and other students tried to approach him and begged him to shut it off and not try to light it, but eventually the dude does and causes an explosion in his booth from the acetylene in the air, and theeennn, Dale, who was watching this whole thing, gets out of his chair, comes over, and asks "Which of my students did this boneheaded thing?"
Suddenly, all of Rich's anecdotes of student injuries make sense. Dale likes to let his students burn to teach them not to touch flames, I guess. Now I'm extra-glad Rich is my teacher.
I ate dinner in the shop, and went to the classroom for the next machine shop class in the sequence. I saw Ethan again and was genuinely glad to see him. I missed berating him. He's kind of my new Brandon, I guess. Allan was also there. Allan was also in my welding class. I am already tired of Allan. Jennifer, at least, was there, so I wasn't the only woman in that class. But anyways, Louis did the syllabus and class rundown thing, then handed back last semester's projects, graded. I got a B on my drill press, not a huge surprise, I knew fuckall about everything thing, and got A-s on my lathe and mill project. I thought I'd get a better grade on the lathe since only one thing was out of spec (by .001", so, not a HUGE error), but still, I don't think I was graded unfairly either.
Ethan drove me home, I ate leftover mac n cheese, and goofed off on the internet. I may have one of those giant chocolate Costco muffins for dessert... or heck, I could have ice cream!
On the lawsuit front, I have a mediation date mid-February, and my therapist was deposed today. I'm a bit nervous about how that went... I don't exactly want all of my sexual assaults to be bandied about, you know? But I think she's irritated on my behalf that the insurance company for the way they're dragging this out and she'll stick to the stuff relevant to the concussion. I guess the insurance company is trying to blame my year off on the death of my grandmother, which, no. I loved her dearly but her death didn't rock me so hard that I was unable to work for a year.
