My spleen is unremarkable.

Thank you, my public, for your words of concern. So, turns out that I still have some nephrolithic calculi gunking up my kidneys. So I get to see a urologist and eventually do this all again. But it's okay. I won't have to pussy out about it like last time. Also, according to the internet, women who've done both say that passing a kidney stone has pain that matches or exceeds labor pain. So hey, I've got that going for me now.

My organs are all okay, though, which is the important thing.

And now, here's some mushy crap.

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Quality Time
with a secondary love language being
Physical Touch.

Complete set of results

Quality Time:		11
Physical Touch:		8
Receiving Gifts:		5
Acts of Service:		3
Words of Affirmation:		3

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

I guess that's pretty true!

I would drive five-hundred ... ow!

Hi blog! How have you been? Unread? Unwritten in? Oh well.

It was my plan to update soon with something, I just wasn't sure what. My brand new odometer said on Wednesday night that I had driven 1234 miles. All by myself! I was going to mention something when I hit 1000, but that mark came and went without my noticing. Of course, I should mention, this is since I got the car in September. So I'm probably averaging about 1500 miles a year? I don't drive very much, is my point.

I was planning on doing several things yesterday, Thursday, but instead I got to spend the night in the emergency room! This post is my way of letting you know that I spent Thursday night in the emergency room. This, after the very sudden onset of some very intense abdominal pain.

I had a kidney stone. What the hell! It was very painful. I must say that I was in considerable pain. Considerable. Pain. I've had very bad pain before. It's not that I wasn't used to that. But this was a type of pain I'd never had before, and it was in the abdomen, where there's so much that can go wrong. I didn't know if it was my appendix, or my ovaries exploding, or what.

It was a kidney stone. I don't know why I had one. But I think it's out of my body now. After around three hours of constant, horrible pain, and standing around freezing and moaning, I finally got to get shot full of all sorts of drugs. Then I was okay! Then my mother (who brought me to the emergency room) called my father, and I hung out with my parents while on three different painkillers. Trippy indeed. Then I had a CT scan and other tests, and then I think I passed the stone. Awkward!

I feel much better today, even though my side is still sore, and as the day has progressed I've felt more pain. They didn't mention if there's anything else going on in my kidneys, so I don't know if this is going to happen again. The internet hasn't been very helpful. I'm going to see my doctor on Monday. Also, I'm currently on Percocet. Wheeeee!

Tomorrow I will get back on my feet by going to an audition. But first I will go back to sleep.

Life is weird.

Okay, since none of you know this, I will start at the beginning. When I was a very young person, let's say, 1-3 years old, I went to daycare at the home of a woman named Terry. At her house. It was very small and informal and homey and there were always people. They came to my 4th birthday party, which took place at a McDonald's. My big memory from that is how I had already become obsessed with vampires somehow. I instigated a game that was a lot like tag, except with added plot. That plot being, the person who was "it" was the vampire, and they had to run around and get people. And then the next person would be the vampire, and so on. I enlisted Terry's daughter, Tara, to begin the game. I was kind of in love with her. I'm pretty sure I tried to cling to her whenever possible. Terry also had a younger daugher, Laura, and some sons who were older. I'm not sure how old any of them were, because when you're three, everyone older than 5 is stratospherically old. Anyway, I was the first person that Tara went for. And she announced, "Okay, now Amy's the vampire! Everyone run away from her!" And that's when I started crying and throwing a fit, because I really did not want to be the vampire.

As you can see, I have always been interested in fair and equal play. And follow-through.

Skip ahead about a little under two decades. You know that thing I talked about in my last entry? The classes, the performance? My scene partner, who I've worked with for the past three months or so? Her name is Laura. After a brainstorming session with my father today, we realized that she is Laura, Terry's daughter Laura . And her sister, Tara, who've I've met about 4 times now? Yeah. HOLY CRAP. She doesn't know yet! I plan to call her and tell her. Only I'm a little worried that she won't be as completely smacked-about-the-face by this news as I am. Holy crap!!

So, I hung out with my father today and we saw Superman Returns . Yesterday I went to the movies with my mother. We saw The Devil Wears Prada . I was pleasantly surprised by both experiences! Regarding Superman, I agree with everything Jess, and by proxy Soupy, said about it. Including the part about Invasion.

The Devil Wears Prada was mildy interesting because I think, although I can't be entirely sure, that this is the first time I've ever seen a production of something that I auditioned for and didn't get. It's probably not true, considering how many things I've been rejected from. But I think so. ... Not for any of the good parts, you understand. Anne Hathaway's eyes are much, much bigger than mine, and it makes me feel inadequate. I'm in love with the red-haired English girl, though. Though it turns out that she may not be red-haired in real life, in which case my love dwindles slightly.

Also, remember a couple months ago I went to that funeral and afterwards I went to IHOP? No? Well, a couple months ago I went to a funeral, and then I wound up at IHOP. On Friday, a plane crashed into the parking lot of that IHOP. Jesus fuck! Nothing major. A small plane. But still, Jesus fuck! It's sort of (but not really) like that time that a tour bus was blown up in front of the Cairo Museum a month to the day after I was sitting right there in a tour bus just like it. I'm not sure what any of this means. Maybe that I need to start showing up at the homes of people I don't like.

Some jerks just walked by my house setting off ... some kind of fireworks, I guess. They're trying to celebrate the birth of their nation by blowing up a small piece of it. I would be nice if they didn't come close to burning my house down, though. Or blowing out my eardrums.

In other news, Happy Birthday Harper! And tomorrow, Happy Birthday Jess!