HI! Sorry, I'm being so damn sporadic with these posts, but I have stuff to do. As finals week approaches, writing here gets less and less important. I also am at home in Detroit right now, and I left my tablet in my dorm, so I can't draw any pretty pictures.... This post is to just apologize for not keeping up and to say Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! I hope you gained at least 2 pants sizes like I think I did. I don't think I ever want to see salad again. Anyway, this weekend is insanely busy for me because I have a shit-ton of homework to do that I haven't started and I keep getting distracted by people and the internet, so I will post something next weekend.
I am going to post a beautiful Thanksgiving story next weekend that will be full of historically inaccurate and highly blasphemous drawings of Jesus battling a gigantic turkey.
Again, I'm sorry about not updating regularly. Not that anyone actually reads this.... I feel schizophrenic when I blog. It feels like I'm talking to myself just a little bit. Whatever.
Peace out and have a great weekend! Enjoy your Thanksgiving leftovers! And to anyone who is not from the U.S. who may or may not read this... I hope your Thursday was fun!
Friday, November 25, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Adventures in Weird Sleep Habits
I have always had weird sleep patterns. I recently had a theory that caffeine makes it impossible for me to sleep, but then I remembered that I've always done weird stuff in my sleep.
It is important to know that when I was a little kid, I was obsessed with the movie, The Wizard of Oz. I wanted to be Dorothy so badly! I made my parents go out and get me the blue and white dress, the white tights, and most importantly, the magical ruby slippers. I was that one weird child who wore her Halloween costume any day of the year. When I say that, I mean that I wore my Dorothy outfit every day. And every night. I used to sleep wearing all of this, ruby slippers included. The ruby slippers eventually got too tight, but I still wore them.
During this time period, I also put off going to bed at all cost. I knew that my parents would yell at me if I didn't get to sleep, so I tried to quietly sneak to the bathroom for a drink of water. However, every room in our house has hardwood flooring that creaked, and I wore my Dorothy shoes that clicked when I walked, so my parents could hear me from downstairs. I would tip-toe past the staircase and my dad's booming voice would startle me, yelling, "KATE! IF I HEAR YOU ONE MORE TIME, I'M COMING UP THERE!" I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but it terrified me every time. I would clip-clop back to my room and try to go to sleep, which was a terrible effort. I slept with the light on because I was afraid of monsters, mostly witches, hiding behind stuff and in the closet. I kept a water bottle by my side at all times because I knew that if you dump water on a witch, she will melt. (I believed everything I was told. I'm not that smart.) For some odd reason, I hated my bed. It is the most comfortable bed in the world. The mattress is not to hard, not too soft, and I have 7 pillows and about a million stuffed animals. Because I hated my bed, I slept on the floor, like the freak of nature that I am.
Also, whenever my dad was away on business trips, I would sleep in my mom's bed with her. She soon discovered the hard way that I am a very violent sleeper. Apparently, I punch in my sleep. Hard. Hard enough to bruise. (I'm not sure if I still do that.) I also thrash around like a suffocating fish. (I definitely still do that.)
So my weird sleeping started out with me sleeping in my Dorothy dress and tight ruby slippers on the hardwood floor with the light on. Weird? I think so.
My sleeping patterns have gotten weirder with age. When I was 4 years old, I may have done some weird things, but now that I am almost 19, I think there might be something seriously wrong with me.
If my room is not completely pitch black, I can't sleep. If there is any noise besides my fan, I can't sleep. These are understandable. However, things get more and more strange.
Most people sleep on their side, or on their back or stomach with their legs straight or maybe bent at a normal person angle. I don't because I'm a fucking weirdo. See, I have always been abnormally flexible. When I was 12 years old, my doctor could grab my shoulders and touch them together in front of me. I went to physical therapy for a long time for loose joints in my (get ready for the list!): ankles, knees, hips, shoulders, back, and elbows. Now, I can't touch my shoulders together in front of me, but I still can behind my back. Try touching your elbows together behind your back. You probably can't. Don't even try touching your shoulders together. You'll probably pull a muscle or hurt yourself. I also recently discovered that I can stand up and bend all the way backwards with my feet flat on the ground and touch the top of my head to the floor. Don't try that either. You might die. This is probably why I was really good at gymnastics, and I should probably take legitimate yoga classes.
Because of my strange flexibility, I sleep in strange positions. Here are drawings of my favorite ones:
Knee-face: My arms are sprawled out on either side of me while I sleep on one shoulder. My (usually) top leg stays straight down, and my bottom leg goes up with my knee really close to or touching my nose. Most people would pull a hamstring trying this, but there's something wrong with me, so I can do this very comfortably.
Extreme Fetal: It's like your average fetal position, but my head is between my knees on the pillow. This one is not as comfortable as the previous one because it causes my bottom arm to fall asleep and it looks rather strange at sleepovers and such. Now that I have a roommate, I don't sleep like this ever. Most people can't really do this without removing a rib or two.
Broken Back: This is surprisingly comfortable and feels great on my back. You stretch backwards until your feet are almost touching the back of your head. I personally like my arms straight out or back, but it is also comfortable to go one back and one straight out. Unfortunately, it may cause your hair to smell like feet in the morning because you're playing with you hair with your feet all night, but if you take morning showers, it's not really a problem.
Face-Down Pretzel: I think it is one of the most comfortable sleep positions ever. I'd prefer it to any other one besides knee-face. You lie on your stomach with your head sideways on the pillow and cross your legs like you are sitting Indian-style. Your knees and ankles should be flat on the mattress. Be careful not to pull your groin though. It seems like it would be really easy to do so in this sleep position. In fact, don't even try this. I think it might really hurt someone.
You don't have to tell me that I'm a total freak. I already know it. As I said before, do not try any of these things or you will probably seriously hurt yourself. I figured these sleeping things out by waking up in these positions after falling asleep like a normal person and thrashing around like a dying fish until I am comfortable.
Now that you people all know that I sleep like my bones were removed, I think it's time for an extremely awkward nap.
It is important to know that when I was a little kid, I was obsessed with the movie, The Wizard of Oz. I wanted to be Dorothy so badly! I made my parents go out and get me the blue and white dress, the white tights, and most importantly, the magical ruby slippers. I was that one weird child who wore her Halloween costume any day of the year. When I say that, I mean that I wore my Dorothy outfit every day. And every night. I used to sleep wearing all of this, ruby slippers included. The ruby slippers eventually got too tight, but I still wore them.
During this time period, I also put off going to bed at all cost. I knew that my parents would yell at me if I didn't get to sleep, so I tried to quietly sneak to the bathroom for a drink of water. However, every room in our house has hardwood flooring that creaked, and I wore my Dorothy shoes that clicked when I walked, so my parents could hear me from downstairs. I would tip-toe past the staircase and my dad's booming voice would startle me, yelling, "KATE! IF I HEAR YOU ONE MORE TIME, I'M COMING UP THERE!" I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but it terrified me every time. I would clip-clop back to my room and try to go to sleep, which was a terrible effort. I slept with the light on because I was afraid of monsters, mostly witches, hiding behind stuff and in the closet. I kept a water bottle by my side at all times because I knew that if you dump water on a witch, she will melt. (I believed everything I was told. I'm not that smart.) For some odd reason, I hated my bed. It is the most comfortable bed in the world. The mattress is not to hard, not too soft, and I have 7 pillows and about a million stuffed animals. Because I hated my bed, I slept on the floor, like the freak of nature that I am.
Also, whenever my dad was away on business trips, I would sleep in my mom's bed with her. She soon discovered the hard way that I am a very violent sleeper. Apparently, I punch in my sleep. Hard. Hard enough to bruise. (I'm not sure if I still do that.) I also thrash around like a suffocating fish. (I definitely still do that.)
So my weird sleeping started out with me sleeping in my Dorothy dress and tight ruby slippers on the hardwood floor with the light on. Weird? I think so.
My sleeping patterns have gotten weirder with age. When I was 4 years old, I may have done some weird things, but now that I am almost 19, I think there might be something seriously wrong with me.
If my room is not completely pitch black, I can't sleep. If there is any noise besides my fan, I can't sleep. These are understandable. However, things get more and more strange.
Most people sleep on their side, or on their back or stomach with their legs straight or maybe bent at a normal person angle. I don't because I'm a fucking weirdo. See, I have always been abnormally flexible. When I was 12 years old, my doctor could grab my shoulders and touch them together in front of me. I went to physical therapy for a long time for loose joints in my (get ready for the list!): ankles, knees, hips, shoulders, back, and elbows. Now, I can't touch my shoulders together in front of me, but I still can behind my back. Try touching your elbows together behind your back. You probably can't. Don't even try touching your shoulders together. You'll probably pull a muscle or hurt yourself. I also recently discovered that I can stand up and bend all the way backwards with my feet flat on the ground and touch the top of my head to the floor. Don't try that either. You might die. This is probably why I was really good at gymnastics, and I should probably take legitimate yoga classes.
Because of my strange flexibility, I sleep in strange positions. Here are drawings of my favorite ones:
Extreme Fetal: It's like your average fetal position, but my head is between my knees on the pillow. This one is not as comfortable as the previous one because it causes my bottom arm to fall asleep and it looks rather strange at sleepovers and such. Now that I have a roommate, I don't sleep like this ever. Most people can't really do this without removing a rib or two.
Broken Back: This is surprisingly comfortable and feels great on my back. You stretch backwards until your feet are almost touching the back of your head. I personally like my arms straight out or back, but it is also comfortable to go one back and one straight out. Unfortunately, it may cause your hair to smell like feet in the morning because you're playing with you hair with your feet all night, but if you take morning showers, it's not really a problem.
Face-Down Pretzel: I think it is one of the most comfortable sleep positions ever. I'd prefer it to any other one besides knee-face. You lie on your stomach with your head sideways on the pillow and cross your legs like you are sitting Indian-style. Your knees and ankles should be flat on the mattress. Be careful not to pull your groin though. It seems like it would be really easy to do so in this sleep position. In fact, don't even try this. I think it might really hurt someone.
You don't have to tell me that I'm a total freak. I already know it. As I said before, do not try any of these things or you will probably seriously hurt yourself. I figured these sleeping things out by waking up in these positions after falling asleep like a normal person and thrashing around like a dying fish until I am comfortable.
Now that you people all know that I sleep like my bones were removed, I think it's time for an extremely awkward nap.
That One Day I Discovered That I am Actually Dead
Every so often, people approach me and ask me if I am okay and if I need a drink of water or something to eat. These people tend to be people who rarely see me, concerned relatives, people I could sue if I passed out at that particular location, strangers, genuinely concerned friends, my teachers and professors, or medical professionals. This is because I am extremely pale. Not just a little bit pale. I look like an albino. The shade of foundation I would use would be called "Drowning Victim White." I have determined that I am approximately the same color as White-Out from a lack of sleep, lack of sunlight (I burn too easily to be out in the sun too long), the fact that I am a science major, and the idea that I might be dead.
I am not sure of my cause of death, but I would hope it would be something interesting such as sky-diving accident, chemistry lab gone wrong, caffeine overdose, or some sort of hallucination causing me to think I can fly and then falling out of a twelve-story window. However, none of these things have actually happened to me (yet), but I still think I might be dead. This is why:
Last year, in my AP Biology class, we were doing a lab to compare our blood pressure at rest and after exercising. I found my lab partner's blood pressures for her data, and she was trying to find mine. We spent the rest of the class period trying to find my blood pressure without luck. I could not stay after school to figure mine out, so I asked my teacher if he could help me find mine after class, which he agreed to do.
Keep in mind that finding someone's blood pressure does not take any skill. A four-year-old could probably do it if instructed correctly and he or she did not have A.D.D.
I sat down on the lab table and rolled up my sleeve. My teacher put the cuff on my arm, asking if I had initially put it on the right way, which I had. He tightened it and put the stethoscope to the crook of my elbow and pumped up the sphygmomanometer. It gripped my arm painfully tightly and I sat impatiently awaiting him to call me stupid and give me my blood pressure reading. However, as the cuff loosened and my teacher looked at the meter, a look of horror struck his face. He looked from the meter to me and back a few times in a disbelieving way. The cuff completely loosened and I started to undo the Velcro. "Wait! Stop!" he ordered, "I need to redo that one more time!" His face showed concern as he pumped it up again and let the air slowly come out. When the cuff loosened again, he took it off for me and laughed nervously, telling me that he could not find my blood pressure. The meter just kept dropping and he could not hear the blood in my arm at any point during the test.
I asked him if I am actually undead and if I still had to write up the lab. He told me to go to my next class, now. I guess that was a yes on both questions.
My dad has a blood pressure machine, so I decided to collect data at home after school. It was an electronic one that I knew worked for sure, and it did not have the human error aspect. It was impossible to mess it up. I strapped the cuff to my arm, following the diagram precisely. I held my arm in the correct position. I hit the on button and watched the numbers increase as the cuff tightened and decrease as it loosened. I watched the numbers quickly drop from 160 to 120 to 90 to 60 to 30 to...
Zero. The machine said zero. I couldn't believe my eyes. I retested it several times, with the same result FIVE TIMES IN A ROW. With that machine, I did not get any answer that was not zero.
Conveniently, I had a doctor's appointment later that day to get vaccines before going off to college. As the nurse was asking me questions, it occurred to me that she might be the best person to take my blood pressure and help me gather data for my lab.
Me: "Umm... Can you do me a favor? For my AP Biology class we were supposed to take our blood pressure and record results, comparing our cardiac fitness. My teacher, lab partner, and I were all unable to find my blood pressure, even with an electronic sphygmomanometer. Can you please help me out by taking my blood pressure? I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
Her: "Uh, sure. Are you sure you were doing it right?"
Me: "I'm not a moron. I know how to take blood pressure."
With that, I rolled up my sleeve, and she attached the cuff. Keep in mind I am horrified of needles, and I was at the doctor's office for shots. My blood pressure should have been through the roof.
She watched the needle move down the numbers. As they got smaller and smaller, her eyes got wider and wider. The needle hit zero.
That was a direct quote. I am not kidding.
She insisted on redoing the test. In the meantime, I was starting to actually freak out from all of the signs pointing to the fact that I am probably a vampire or zombie or whatever. After a few tries, she ended up getting a result. It turns out I had (and possibly still have) the blood pressure of a healthy kindergartener. At least we found a number.
The next day, when I told my AP Biology teacher this fact, he looked at me like I am completely insane, shook his head, and kind of walked away, laughing at me.
That is how I found out that when I am calm, I have the blood pressure of a dead body, and when I am having an anxiety attack, I have the blood pressure of a five-year-old.
I am not sure of my cause of death, but I would hope it would be something interesting such as sky-diving accident, chemistry lab gone wrong, caffeine overdose, or some sort of hallucination causing me to think I can fly and then falling out of a twelve-story window. However, none of these things have actually happened to me (yet), but I still think I might be dead. This is why:
Last year, in my AP Biology class, we were doing a lab to compare our blood pressure at rest and after exercising. I found my lab partner's blood pressures for her data, and she was trying to find mine. We spent the rest of the class period trying to find my blood pressure without luck. I could not stay after school to figure mine out, so I asked my teacher if he could help me find mine after class, which he agreed to do.
Keep in mind that finding someone's blood pressure does not take any skill. A four-year-old could probably do it if instructed correctly and he or she did not have A.D.D.
I sat down on the lab table and rolled up my sleeve. My teacher put the cuff on my arm, asking if I had initially put it on the right way, which I had. He tightened it and put the stethoscope to the crook of my elbow and pumped up the sphygmomanometer. It gripped my arm painfully tightly and I sat impatiently awaiting him to call me stupid and give me my blood pressure reading. However, as the cuff loosened and my teacher looked at the meter, a look of horror struck his face. He looked from the meter to me and back a few times in a disbelieving way. The cuff completely loosened and I started to undo the Velcro. "Wait! Stop!" he ordered, "I need to redo that one more time!" His face showed concern as he pumped it up again and let the air slowly come out. When the cuff loosened again, he took it off for me and laughed nervously, telling me that he could not find my blood pressure. The meter just kept dropping and he could not hear the blood in my arm at any point during the test.
I asked him if I am actually undead and if I still had to write up the lab. He told me to go to my next class, now. I guess that was a yes on both questions.
My dad has a blood pressure machine, so I decided to collect data at home after school. It was an electronic one that I knew worked for sure, and it did not have the human error aspect. It was impossible to mess it up. I strapped the cuff to my arm, following the diagram precisely. I held my arm in the correct position. I hit the on button and watched the numbers increase as the cuff tightened and decrease as it loosened. I watched the numbers quickly drop from 160 to 120 to 90 to 60 to 30 to...
Zero. The machine said zero. I couldn't believe my eyes. I retested it several times, with the same result FIVE TIMES IN A ROW. With that machine, I did not get any answer that was not zero.
Conveniently, I had a doctor's appointment later that day to get vaccines before going off to college. As the nurse was asking me questions, it occurred to me that she might be the best person to take my blood pressure and help me gather data for my lab.
Me: "Umm... Can you do me a favor? For my AP Biology class we were supposed to take our blood pressure and record results, comparing our cardiac fitness. My teacher, lab partner, and I were all unable to find my blood pressure, even with an electronic sphygmomanometer. Can you please help me out by taking my blood pressure? I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
Her: "Uh, sure. Are you sure you were doing it right?"
Me: "I'm not a moron. I know how to take blood pressure."
With that, I rolled up my sleeve, and she attached the cuff. Keep in mind I am horrified of needles, and I was at the doctor's office for shots. My blood pressure should have been through the roof.
She watched the needle move down the numbers. As they got smaller and smaller, her eyes got wider and wider. The needle hit zero.
That was a direct quote. I am not kidding.
She insisted on redoing the test. In the meantime, I was starting to actually freak out from all of the signs pointing to the fact that I am probably a vampire or zombie or whatever. After a few tries, she ended up getting a result. It turns out I had (and possibly still have) the blood pressure of a healthy kindergartener. At least we found a number.
The next day, when I told my AP Biology teacher this fact, he looked at me like I am completely insane, shook his head, and kind of walked away, laughing at me.
That is how I found out that when I am calm, I have the blood pressure of a dead body, and when I am having an anxiety attack, I have the blood pressure of a five-year-old.
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