under the blue

Ask me how Im doing. And the truth is that, Im not great. Or good. Or bad.
 
I.
 
Just.
 
Am.
 
Today I spent 2.5 hours at the doctors because the lady with the thin nose and the tight lips canceled my appointment in October but didn’t bother to reschedule so I sat there, just waiting to be squeezed into the doctor’s schedule. Good thing Ukraine taught me full well what it means to sit in horribly decorated rooms, with worrisome faces, just waiting with thumbs in palms.
 
In the meantime, they sucked blood out of me. If you all know me well enough, you will know that I hate it. I hate hate hate it. It is not the pain. It is just the idea of it. This time the lady told me that I could listen to my music. So I put on my headphones. Sarah Brighton’s “Deliver Me” roared through my ears, while I squeezed a rubber ball and the lady pricked my vein like a vampire.
 
The lady left a mark. My arm has been hurting all day. And its in the first stages of blue. Purple and yellow are waiting to come, like a bold rainbow. It will soon look as if I got attacked by a dozen bullies.
 
My doctor looks like he is missing some nuts and bolts in his mind. I swear. He’s not all there. But he did prescribe me new pills, which will hopefully alleviate the stomach adventures I’ve been having the last few months.
 
We ran into Tolik Magidin there. Our landlord when we first moved to America. He and his family were like relatives for us. Lena and I were like sisters. We caught up in the few minutes we had, in the hallway. He told us how one of his houses (he has 4) had caught on fire. It was the house that I grew up in. There is nothing left but walls. And. I don’t know. Hearing that made me real sad inside. I remember all intricacies of that apartment. And now its gone gone gone. As if it never existed.
 
Lena is finishing her cosmetologist school. “Come over and she can do your nails and hair,” he said. And I realized that I was her very first client. My hair was her playground. I will never forget the day that she decided to put all the scrunchies in my hair. My hair stood atop my head like a pole. She giggled at her creation.
 
Tolik looked old and worn out and it also made me sad. I wonder what he will retell his family about running into us. And we always depart on the words of "You should come visit some time!" And each of us says "Kak?" [How?]
 
I fell asleep for 2 hours today. And woke up feeling even worse than I did before. I officially have a fever. And so it feels as if my brain is on this heat pad, melting away. And my body feels like its been through some car wreck. [Nevermind, the fact that my breasts are in sooooo much pain from the Yasmin. Ugh.]
 
Could I be sick from the lady who kept coughing on me in the train? Yeah maybe. I swear, I wanted to punch her lungs.
 
 
I went to boston a couple days ago. An Elina day. Ventured into various stores. I found the most aaaaaamazing café. This small short glass windowed Crepe’s Café. The one man there, spilled ithe liquid white goodness on this black big circle pan that twirled around. It looked like he was playing big records. And it was so yummy and I sat there, looking out, watching life pass with my steamy earl grey and sweet crepe’s cut in triangles with cinnamon and sugar. And. It was good.
 
I also discovered my new favorite bubble tea. Passion Fruit. Yum.
 
I had called Doris to find out the train schedule. I learned my lesson. Never do that again. I had my worst nightmare come true. I got on one of the times she told me. And woosh! The train went. And I was like, “ooh this is nice, it is express.” But I figured it will stop at brandeis. Most trains stop at brandeis. Nope. It zoomed right by, with my mouth gasping open. It just kept going and going and going. I squeezed the chair in front of me. “Oh please just stop.”
 
It eventually stopped at Lincoln. Which is basically in the middle of nowhere. My cellphone was dying. I called Aliza. “I can see the stars here! Im sooo in the middle of nowhere!” I squealed. I was going to be just a tad bit late to the dinner she invited me. Eventually, after some jogging around and dozens of jumping jacks in the freezing cold, a train came.
 
Through chattering teeth I told the friendly train person about my situation. He took pity on me. “Why don’t you go inside? Its warmer there,” he pointed to the train car.
 
What should have been a 15 mins train ride, turned out to be a 2 hour ride. It teaches me a lesson to not say things like “I love the train and I could ride it forever.”
 
That night was a movie marathon at Aliza’s. We watched Butterfly Effect and V for Vendetta. Both amazing movies, that I had seen before. But could watch again. I missed the second half of Vendetta because Marina called. She had talked to her ex-boyfriend who is still madly in love with her and she didn’t know what to do. And I nodded over the phone and suggested things that I had no idea what I was talking about.
 
Yesterday I had packed my bags and came back to Rhody. Yesterday wasn’t entirely pleasant. I got the email. The email that I was dreading:
 
“At this point, the choice is to take a stab at altering stimulus (as you suggested), or going to an entirely new expt.  To tell the truth, from what I’ve seenof the data, I have real doubts that the first course would work, but leave it up to you to decide.  if you were to go a different route, it would be valuable, if at all possible, to do something related.”
 
It came from my professor. The feeling of a failed experiment is one of the worst feelings in the world. Its like youre a failure. And. Ive spent months and months slaving over it. And. Nothing. Just like that, I need to drop my experiment and move onto something new?! Fuck.
 
I also had a snappy older adult aubject. Which is appropriate, considering she was my last one. Number 29. When she stepped out of the car, she pointed to my face “Do you have a rash?” She asked so nonchalantly.
 
“No, it is acne,” I said with a smile. And god, its taken me so long to form that smile.
 
“Oh. I thought with modern medicine, something would have been created for such a thing,” she continued to speak so casually.
 
“Ive tried everything. I guess something has yet to be created for me,” I ended the topic and I think she was trying to suck up to me after that.
 
Crazy lady.
 
I have been hurting a lot. I cant form the words to tell my mom, “I wont be here for New Years.” Its like telling your family you wont be there for Christmas. And. I just cant leave my family. My family needs me. My dad is refusing to find a job. My mom is working 70 hours weeks. My brother is all crazy. He is broken and single and he tries to be so strong and it almost hurts me to see it. He is avoiding the fact that he may need radiation therapy. And. How can I tell these people…these people who love me more than anyone else, that I wont be there for New Years? I cant I cant I cant I cant.
 
My friends are going to kill me. I wish I could somehow astroproject myself. And end up at two places at once. Let me know if you know how. Thanks.
 
Im leaving out a lot. Like my shopping experience with Jess and my newly bought blue squishy soft socks. Or the hot chocolate movie night with Doris and Allison. Or how I maybe on Dean’s List this semester (!!!) Or how I wish I was in Minnesotta right now. I am missing Dave’s wedding *sigh*.
 
The truth is, I am a cyclical person. I repeat things. And this all just a phase. The bad mingling with the good and at moments I am smiling and others I am hurting.