Proof that even if I can't walk everyday, I know enough crazy people that I'll never be able to be bored for long.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPYw86meVaU&feature=BF&list=ULiYXYAazs8OI&index=10
Thats the link to a Ninja movie which I am the camerawoman/director/coustume designer of. This movie is proof that even though my brain is too messed up to deal with leaving my house for anything other than doctor's appointments, my legs and feet are too messed up to walk more than a block, and I really don't have a life, as long as you have insane people wandering through your house, you will never get bored.

This is actually on my friend's blog, but it was shot in my basement, with help from random people we found wandering around my house.
No, not seriously. Although, most of the time, there are random people in my basement. That's why I never go down there.
Well, the random people and the troll.

Back to the video. Watch it! Go, go! Watch, laugh, like, add, reveiw... Please.

Pain Clinic- you think they might help the pain?

You would think that a pain clinic is there to help with pain. And, actually, I had the best- *coughcough* only *cough*- conversation about pain management with a doctor I've ever had.
Now, he's going to 'consult with his colleges about what would work best, then they will send their findings onto your main doctor, who will write out the pharscrpitions, then after a month I should come back to the pain clinic.'
Does anyone else think that it would just be simpler for them to just give me the damn physcriptions then?
Yeah, yeah. I'm underage. My city is going through a war against pill poppers. They're the highest growing group of addict here in the lovely Winnipeg.
But here's the thing; I am not a drug dealer. I won't sell the pain pills you give me.
I am not a pill addict. I will not take them to intentionally alter- blah, blah, blah.
The only relevant fact, as far as I'm concerned, is that I am in a really large amount of fnicking pain.
I walk a block, both my ankle's are twisted and my legs are cramping up. It's not pleasant.
Even if I don't exert myself, I'm still in pain.
Garg. That's pretty much all I saw these days. I make random noises of frustration.

It is funny, actually, how my last post on here was to let you know I wasn't dead and I'd be posting again soon- then my Internet goes down. And, since I live in a house where the parents both put things off as long as possible, I just got it fixed today. Thank goddess for my father. Him coming over after work to fix my Internet was a wonderful thing.
What can I say? That's how he shows his love for me, his only daughter (Unless it comes in that along with the secret son he has, he has a secret daughter). He gives me stuff. I show my love by... er, letting him hug me. Thanking him for the stuff he gives me.
I mean...we both say to each other, love you, stuff like that, but really, its just something you say, like bye.
Yeah, yeah. My relationship with my dad is messed. Whatever.

Speaking of messed up parents; I have a question for anyone out there who may or may not be reading this. If a woman shaves her head in support of her uncle, who is dying of cancer, and then is fired from her job as a waitress because she shaved her head, not any other reason, is that right? Should a private business be able to fire her because of this? Does this woman then have the right to seek what she is entitled to, under the law of the country she lives in?
Me and my mother are at odds about this, so I'm not really speaking to her. Not in a, 'I'll pretend you aren't there' kind of way, more, 'I'll nod when she speak to me, but I won't actually look at you or engage you in conversation.
So this should be fun.

Not dead

Although some might guess that I've died from the lack of updates on here, but I'm not. Obviously, since I'm updating right now.
Things have been... interesting. My stepdad has a job, so he actually leaves the house, and my moms been picking up a bunch of shifts, and winter break is over, so my sister's are back at school, which leaves me with an empty house for several hours everyday, pretty much.
Which is nice, but not as nice when you realize I can barely walk most of the time and I actually have to do things for myself.
Gosh, that sounds really spoiled-bratish, doesn't it? But, I mean; I walk five feet and my legs are shaking so bad and my feet feel like they're rebreaking themselves. So, yeah, I enjoy people getting me things so I don't have to stand up.
On that note, my mom actually pulled something in her leg a few weeks back, and she couldn't walk for nearly a week. So about half way through this, she looks up at me, and says 'I know I can be hard on you about you never doing anything, and I really apoligize for that. Because now I understand what its like to be in pain just walking, and I really don't want to do anything.'
Which is funny, because my mom has been really suportive of me even before we had a diagnosis. But she had been getting fed up with me latly, since I started walking again after the surgery. I think she just really expected the surgery to basically cure most of my problems, and... yeah, no, it didn't. Actually, I'm worse off now than before.
Can I ask a question? Who steals a wheelchair? Because someone stole my spare wheelchair. WTF?
Hmmm... what else... Oh, I had an EEG because ever since Halloween I've been twitching uncontrolably unless I take lorazapam twice a day. Apparently, this isn't supposed to happen.
Everyone who is reading this must go and look up Regina Spektor. She is a singer, she is awesome.
Also, Rebecca Drysdale has put in her part to the 'It Gets Better' campaighn. You know, the one thats trying to get gay teens to stop killing themselves? Yeah. She made a rap and a music video for it, and its brilliant. Look it up on youtube. It Gets Better - Rebecca Drysdale. Unless your homophobic, in which case, could you please kindly stop reading my blog? Because I'm homophobicphobic.
Anyways. I'm off.
Oh! Wait. Everyone must check out the TV show Chuck. Brilliant.
Okay, now I'm off.