Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan visit the Marvel offices!
Photos by Judy Stephens & Rich Herrera
Outlaw Queen sass-off: Storybrooke version.
You will stay with me?
I loved this scene more than words can say.
Oberyn Martell + his spear
Literally the best quotes in all of history.
I’m not sad, just tired. Sometimes tired is worse. I’ve got Lillies of the Valley on a playlist though. I need to start writing that letter, but I’m still having issues finding the words. I have so many words, but never the right ones. Mostly, it’s just “thank you.” Because without Jeremy, without Sochi, I don’t know what kind of state I would be in now. Watching him rise helps to deal with the fall a bit.
But some days being sick is just lonely. Some days it feels hopeless, and instead of thinking about seeing a lot of old friends Friday and watching some great music, all I can think about is that the cane will be here tomorrow, in time to take with me, and even if I try to fight it, I’ll be limping either way. I’m still trying to figure out if this is just normal pain, well, normal for me, or worth trying to brave urgent care where they’ll throw pain meds at me, quiet down, get out of our hair, deal with your pain.
I need a real doctor. I need a doctor who gives a shit. I need a PT script, not yet another opiod prescription. Probably killing my stomach with high dose ibuprofen, but I don’t think I’m ready to start developing opiod tolerance yet. The ibuprofen takes the edge off mostly, I just have to be careful about the 600 mg at a time thing.
I keep slipping my back too, and I’m not sure what I can do about that besides slow down, move less, try to avoid the pinching pain.
Sometimes chronic pain is like a chess game, move, try, wait, look three steps ahead for maybe a win. I was never very good at chess.
Like, they’re fucking comfortable. And zippers and buttons are hard when your hands ache, and denim and stiff pants suck when your thigh hurts nonstop. I just don’t care anymore. I had fucks, but they’re gone. Oops.