|Current mood:|| awake|
Nightmare Dinner and Misc.
I went into the psych ward for only 8 days. That really wasn't alot, I was expecting alot more. Around a month.
We took my Grandma out to dinner for her birthday at this resturant and it was a REALLY horrible expierence. First, the drinks got mixed up. Second, we kept on having to request chips numerous times. When our chips arrived, they were oily, stale, and cold. Being infurated we called over the manager to complain about the chips, and the poor service.
Finally when our orders arrived, my Grandmother requested ALL beans for her dinner not rice and beans. So they took it back and fixed the error. So after dinner I ordered dessert because when I goto a mexican resturant I always have to order flan, I know it's bad but I can't resist. Since it was my Grandmother's birthday, she recieved flan for her birthday, but her dish was cracked! You would think one fuck up was plenty but right down to the fucking dish!! So they gave her a new dish and flan. And that concluded our nightmare dinner.
Proceeding on, I got placed on more medication. Now I am on Topamax. It's a mood stabilizer. I gained more weight in the hospital. =( Oh well, I will get it off. I met a really cool guy named Mark. Him and I had an inside joke with a blanket and boogers on the wall. I know it sounds trival, juvinile,and downright disgusting but it's really hilarious. Well since I bothered to bring these up now I shall explain them since now you have perplexed looks on your faces.
The "boogers on the wall" Saga began when Mark found boogers stuck on the wall in his room's bathroom's wall by the toilet paper dispenser. Some were so old, people painted over them. So this inspired him to compose s limrick about the boogers on the wall. Now, the second thing. The blanket.
This one I am actually reluctant to discuss but I am forcing myself to anyway. When Mark and I were talking outside, I was masturbating, YES YOU READ CORRECTLY MASTURBATING, under the blanket. Mind you, this isn't the embarassing part, it starts to get embrassing when the head RN of the PM shift named Richard comes out for a cigg and saids, "I know what you're doing under there." Busted... is what processed though my sick preverted mind.
Also another guy named Richard has given another name for Bulimia I shall never forget. Not as fancy or such a euphism as Mia. He refers as "Scarf and Barf" quite charming isn't it? It made me crack up. What can I say? I took up smoking in there also, it tends to happen, since 30% of all bipolar patients smoke.
I will never forget the "basketball courts" were Jim and John wanted to fuck me. Not literally but sometimes I wonder otherwise. Speaking of John, he was a crazy ass. He was an ex 'Nam marine. Sccccary shit man. He was always doped up in that place.
Mark and I always hung out in this little table with a couple of ashtrays on a patio facing a basketball court, a lawn, and a fence. Richard the RN refered it as Mark's and mine "Romance Table." Whatever...
Well that concludes the saga for now. I'll probably think for more.
(Post a new comment)