The chase is way, way off.

Somehow, I've unwittingly gotten tangled up in an acquaintance's personal reenactment of Fatal Attraction. And I have a feeling that in her particular universe, I'm an expendable character likely to meet her demise in a uniquely painful fashion.

This person, we'll call her Crazy, is hung up on her ex, a good friend of mine, to the point of creepiness. From what I gather, theirs was some sort of blurry semblance of a relationship that ended over a year ago. Whatever. I don't care, it's really none of my business. I'm not romantically involved with the object of her obsession so my involvement in this drama is totally involuntary.

Crazy befriended me several months ago in what I now realize to be some sort of twisted attempt to keep tabs on him. She's crafty, this one.

Anyway, none of this would be much of a problem for me had she gone public with her doctored version of the situation between the two of them.. and dragged me into the middle of her bullshit. She recently began writing a Sex and the City-inspired column for a local free paper that was supposed to chronicle her dating life and instead has become a pathetic homage to her defunct relationship with my friend.

Her last attempt referred to me not by name, but as "it".. though anyone who knows the three of us would be able to piece together whom "it" refers to. I quote: "I called him a few days later to see if he wanted to hang out and let's just say, he had company... and it had a vagina."

Okay, Crazy. Leave me out of your psycho fantasies about your ex, stop implying that we're sleeping together, and just quit being weird and manipulative. I thought you were funny and interesting before you involved me in this bizarre triangle and actually wanted to be your friend... now I'm afraid to let my cat go outside.

God bless you, Dr. Kevorkian!

Why did I mention the venerable doctor famous for assisted suicides? Does that count as a suicidal thought?! Frantically I phone my doctor for I have recently joined the leagues of folks on (drumroll) WELLBUTRIN! Actually, the non-household-name generic, $10 on my insurance version.

But me, I'm not battling depression so much as anxiety... the anxiety the results from quitting smoking! Yay! *no one is allowed to question me as to the progress of my actual quitting, lest I begin to have homicidal thoughts. You're supposed to take the drug for two weeks or so before you quit cold turkey, and I've only been on it for four days. So bite me. (wow. errant aggressive thought there. time to take another one..)

Allow me to backtrack so you'll see why I finally decided to quit.

I was becoming hysterical about my life: not working (well, just for this month), moving, writing a piece for a magazine, feeling in the doldrums due to poor alcohol consumption habits, and just a general sense of ennui. Then, the heart palpitations began. After nearly two weeks of hoping fervently they'd go away, whilst my eyes bugged out of my head due to dangerous stress levels, I finally cracked and went whining with my tail between my legs to the doctor. After an EKG, several blood tests, and much drama, it was determined I should probably be induced into a coma so I'd be unable to engage in my unhealthy habits: drinking, smoking, caffeine, and stress. But how will I pay for my medical care while in a coma? I asked. So grudgingly the doctor allowed me to remain conscious, provided I tackle these habits myself.

The Wellbutrin was my brilliant idea. In fact, the doctor/patient dynamic was more me ordering him to prescribe me things I'd seen on TV and him nodding and scribbling at his pad. This should be good news for the ad departments of pharmaceutical companies.

I figured the stuff would relieve my stress, allow me to quit smoking, and also, prevent me from imbibing much at all since it's not recommended while on this medication. And it seems to have had a positive effect on road rage!

So now, I live a life dictated by pill consumption (currently 8 a day!):

2 wellbutrin
1 singulair - allergies/asthma
1 azithromycin - antibiotic for respiratory infection
1 estrostep - birth control pill (totally unnecessary, I might add)
1 zyrtec - allergies
1 vitamin C tablet
1 One-a-Day multi-vitamin

People, I'm not even 25 years old yet. Wtf? My friends are joking about getting me days of the week pill dispensers. But I feel good, damnit!

Did someone stab a fork in my eye?

Um, yeah, so I haven't blogged in awhile, but I think it's because my last work experience was so harrowing that I've been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, so.. just been focusing on the recovery and all. At least due to a scheduling mistake by me, I have over three weeks off in March. My taxes are done. Finally.

I'm having heart palpitations (for real) and I think it might be caused not by the smoking and booze as one may assume, but by the spasms of stress induced by my job. Three weeks off and I'm stressed out? Yes, because the people I work for are pathologically lying bastards. They'll blithely quote you outrageously untrue information and then dare you to brave their maze of automated phone calls, voice mails, e-mails and unmitigated bullshit in order to fix their mistakes. They are, without a doubt, worse than an insurance company.

I say this in part because they've just decided to bend the rules (a real fucking shocker) and call me out hours before they're legally able to, so I won't be able to move this Thursday as I'd originally intended. Fine. Okay. I'll just continue to live in the cardboard chaos my life has become.

I also may be a tiny bit bitter that on my last trip, the responsibility of head flight attendant got unceremoniously dumped into my lap, despite my complete lack of training for these duties.. Hmm, well, what could have gone wrong, you say? Well since you asked...

Issues with My Last Trip as Head Flight Attendant:
- departure was delayed 20 minutes because one of the passengers lost their boarding card and the Irish wouldn't let us leave
- the safety video's audio wouldn't work, so the protocol was really to do a manual demo, but I decided to say screw it. hey, they put me in charge.
- once in the air, it became clear that the bespectacled old Irish ground rep hadn't given me the necessary paperwork - the crew dec, passenger manifest. You know.. things that the FAA might go at us for rabid dogs for not having.
-we ran out of meals because the person in charge of counting some of them was new and got confused. luckily, all the passengers were asleep so it didn't matter.
-then, I had to do some bullshit paperwork instead of taking a nap, and even more when I got home! bureaucratic pigs!

Ahhh. Hear that? It's the sound of my relief at getting my aggressions out through the art of angry blogging.

..to this. 

From this...