Kssshsch...Station 14.

I just don't have the energy to go out and take pictures.

I'm going to stop pretending that I didn't break your heart

I think I've had this blog for exactly a year now. This is the longest I've stuck with blogging EVER. I really, really, REALLY want to actually do a 365 project, and I'm tempted to try again starting on Wednesday. I didn't really do too badly this year, but I know that once school starts again, it's going to be the last thing I feel like bothering with. I'll make a decision in two days.

I feel like I should definitely at least end the year with a picture. I'll see what I can rustle up in the next two days.

Hopefully, next year, there's far less bullshit in my blog, and way more pictures.

All I want in this world at this very moment is a perfect avocado just for me to eat.

Make every touch electrical

This is going to be a long post, and there won't be any pictures. Not even any goofy ones of me laying on the floor looking smug for no reason (other than, you know, always being both correct and awesome). I would apologize in advance, but I don't particularly care.

Let's recap what I've been doing for the last few days. If I want to keep the recap brief, I can say I've been watching The Mindy Project pretty much non-stop. I got super addicted to it super fast. I finished the first season last night, and Allen came in and rained on my parade, so I'll have to start the second season when I get home tonight. That's the quick version.

Here's the long version:

Tuesday: I picked up my car from the shitfuck dealership I had it at. I drove it home, even though I knew it was going to die (uh, upon reflection, I think I may have already written about this part. I already know I repeat myself. So, pretty much, suck it fuckers). To my immense delight, it didn't. I took it in for an oil change, and after I had walked home from Jiffy Lube, I got a call asking me if there was a trick to starting my car. Fuck. I told them no, but would they mind trying to jump it for me? Thankfully, they didn't. Even more thankfully, my car started. But that's skipping ahead. I called the dealership again, had the expected, "Hey, you fucking idiots, thanks for sending me out and saying my car is fine because guess what it's not" conversation, though I was ten times more polite about it. They recommended that I replace my battery, because if I bought my battery from Auto Zone...which I did...I was clearly cheap and that's why my battery failed and why my car wouldn't start. This didn't sound right to me, so I took my car from Jiffy Lube and drove it to Auto Zone, petrified my car was going to die as I made a turn into an intersection, and I'd get slammed by somebody, and then I'd be dead. It's just where my head goes. Auto Zone tested my battery, my starter, and my alternator. Everything came up roses (not literally. I mean, if I had roses for a battery, starter, and alternator, then I would obviously know why my car was having trouble. Those things aren't conducive to running a vehicle, though they are lovely to look at). The guy I was talking to at Auto Zone pulled two codes from my car: a TCM code, and a PCM code. I asked him if that would make my car suck at being a car, and he said most definitely. So. Called the dealership AGAIN, told them the battery idea they gave me sucked, and here are the codes I have from my car. Would that make my car do what it did? Yes, the fellow said. They told me to tow my car back in. Fat chance of that, I'm a daredevil (or an idiot, whichever. I think the two are pretty well interchangeable). So I drove it back in, because I can go fuck myself, that's why. I didn't drive it in until Thursday, though. I made an appointment at 11:30 for my car to be looked at. Again. Tuesday night, I asked Allen if he wanted me to make manicotti for dinner, since it was Christmas Eve and all, and we should do something nice together since we didn't have anybody else to spend it with. He didn't, he said that was too involved. I don't even remember what we ate, but it doesn't really matter. We had dinner, then sat on the couch and watched movies and chatted together.

Cue Christmas!

Wednesday: I woke up, made myself some exceptionally tasty coffee (that's the closest thing I have to a Christmas tradition, aside from getting drunk at some point in the day), woke Allen up because I was bored, and he made me buttermilk pancakes with raspberry sauce. That's how we roll. Went to his family's house, ate a shitload of food, drank even more shitloads of booze (my favorite thing to drink in that house is a mix of apple pie whiskey and fireball whiskey. It tastes like fall, and it gets me drunk. Aw yiss), stole the book I bought for Allen, and hid myself away downstairs for the three hours it took me to read it. It crushed my feelings, which I'm also aware that I wrote about. But this is a comprehensive recap. Chris was the only friend of mine that showed up (Stevie and Mike fell asleep at her parents' house, Holly had a hangover, Tosh and Ryan's car broke down because I think I'm contagious, and Sara spent the day with her family), so we all visited with each other for a little bit, with my tear soaked face. But everybody knows better than to make fun of me when I'm emotionally broken after reading a book. Allen passed out pretty early once we got home, so I went to the park. I fell asleep under the trees for a little bit, and when I woke up, I was startled, to say the least. My coffee that I brought was cold and not the best wake-up companion. I walked back home, crawled into bed, and went on to dream about the stars. This is true.

Thursday: Starbucks day. I didn't bring my camera to creep on anybody, but I did sit and enjoy my iced chai soy latte (obviously with cinnamon powder), and I watched everybody interact. It was lovely. People watching is one of my favorite activities when I have nothing else to do. I took my car back in to the dealership from whence it came, even though they're retards. Allen's dad picked me up and dropped me off at Stevie's. She and I fucked around for a little bit, then we went to Petsmart, where I had to exercise all of my restraint to keep myself from buying the cutest fucking rat I've ever seen. I still need my super big cage from Stevie, and then I am definitely buying one more rat. I love my boys, they make me super happy. Stevie and I went back to GMC to see if they'd just figure something out so I could get my fucing rental car that is clearly stated in my warranty that I get if they have to keep my car overnight due to either repairs, or lack of being able to diagnose, or the apocolypse, or whatever the fuck. It's in there, but they were fucking bastards. I don't know if it helped that we were talking to the manager, who thought he was so cool for being the manager, and was also super conservative, and Stevie thought it would be funnier to pass us off as a couple. He was not amused with our lesbian antics, and he flat out refused to talk to me, and just gave me withering glances and kept calling me "your FRIEND" very pointedly when talking to Stevie. We thought it was hilarious that he was such a homophobic cocksucker, but I think it may have bitten me in the ass. He didn't help us at all. Stevie dropped me off at home, and then HER car died. I really, really, really am contagious. Keep me out of your cars, everyone! I get a call a couple of hours later from GMC, saying that they have to do a repair to start diagnosing things properly, but here was the kicker: if it fixed the problem, it's covered under my warranty. If it DOESN'T fix the problem, I had to pay the 400 bucks to repair it, and then they could just keep tinkering. Well, fuck a whole lot of that. So I went and picked up my car. Allen's dad took us there, and followed Allen and I home to make sure that if my car went kaput en route, I wasn't stranded. I stopped and got us Pita Pit, and then I got myself a big fucking bottle of Oakheart Rum, because damn it all, I was going to get wasted. I did make it home without incident. I fell asleep on the couch watching The Mindy Project.

Friday. Yesterday. By far my most favorite fucking day of the week, because I sure as fuck raised twenty shitstorms: I picked Alen up from work, and I felt bold enough to run an errand. Mistake! My car died again. So, after I got it to start again, I drove it home and called GMC. I asked for the service manager, because at this point, I'd fucking had it. They didn't connect me to the service manager, they connected me to the condescending fuckface that's been dealing with me the entire time. Can I talk to your manager was the first question I asked, and of course, the manager isn't there. Put me through to his voicemail was my next statement, but that didn't fly. So, I let Anthony have it. Insofar as I could, at any rate. I started off by saying that they'd been doing an awful lot of fucking guesswork on my vehicle, and they're asking me to make gambles with 400 dollars that I can't afford at the moment for something that might not work, and if he's a car technician, why can't he figure out what's going on? This is when he started to talk over me, and that's when I got NASTY. I may have used the word ineptitude, I may have also used the words "fucking rude" and "god damn useless". When I say may have, this time I mean I actually didn't. I definitely did use the word ineptitude, but I didn't swear, and I was absolutely firm when I could get a word in edgewise, but I was never, EVER that rude. The conversation ended with me being told that they refused to work on my car, because there were too many problems, me demanding to be put through to the service manager's voicemail, and him hanging up on me. I didn't even know what to do at that point. So, I did the only thing my brain could think of: I threw my phone...um...very gently at the couch, because I didn't want to break it, but I did want to throw a temper tantrum...and I sat down in the middle of the living room, looked at Allen and said, "I'm so fucking frustrated!" and then I cried. I cried hard. For about five minutes. Then I called my dealership back, and talked to two different managers. Who were both SO FUCKING AMAZING. They were kind, and patient, and the first manager I talked to, Andy, was very understanding when I started to cry on the phone. I definitely appreciated that. Anyway, they told me to go to Al Serra, they made the appointment for me, and I have to bring my car in on Monday morning. Stevie and I were supposed to go to Tucanos, because she said she wanted to do something nice for me since I'd had such a terrible week and a half, but that fell through. So, Allen made me chicken parmesan (he makes it better than I do, which frankly makes me mad) to cheer me up. It was delicious. We watched two episodes of The Mindy Project, then we watched Pacific Rim (which was so fucking stupid, but in a way that I completely enjoyed) and then we started a Rifftrax, but Allen went to bed. Understandably, I was fucking shithammered the entire evening. I started drinking at 9, and didn't stop until 1. I know I was texting Derek all night, but I didn't want to read the conversation we had, because I'm an idiot when I'm drunk. I remember some of it, but it makes me bush. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to text men when I'm drunk and they're out of town. It's a catalyst that creates an awkward situation for me in the morning. It doesn't matter how much sex I've had with someone, or how intimate we are at that point in time. Those two things combined...me drunk, and someone out of town...are never, ever going to make something positive.Though he texted me this morning with, "...Did we survive the night?" So I told him I stayed up until 3 watching Law and Order SVU (Truth! I watched another episode when I woke up at 7 this morning), and I flat out refused to read anything I said to him yesterday night, because I didn't want to embarrass myself. We've been chatting away, so I couldn't have been THAT drunk and stupid. Either that, or I was and he finds it charming. Which is possible. People are weird.

It's been an interesting few days. I'm hoping that my bad car luck is almost over. I haven't been able to go to my gym, so I wasted this month's membership (between being sick and being carless), but walking damn near everywhere has been nice. Cold, and it makes me cough, but nice just the same.

So that's my long winded recap of everything that's gone on.

Despite my frustration, I've actually been in a fantastic mood the last few days. Fantastic. I'm thinking of taking a long, long, LONG walk when I get home and taking pictures, because I haven't really taken any lately. I've missed it. I'm supposed to go out with my friend Nick and take pictures some time soon, but I've had to keep putting it off. Maybe I'll see if he wants to go out tonight.

Like a bad star

I just took a picture of my face, but I won't post it. It's the face of a girl that just spent three hours devouring The Fault In Our Stars, and spent the last twenty minutes of  reading weeping uncontrollably.

I saw the end coming, but I didn't see it coming the way it panned out. It took me off guard.

I love that feeling. The feeling you get when you're lost in the world of someone else's making, and you forget it's not real. And when that link is broken and life is life again, you have a new perspective, or a new passion, or you remember. Sometimes it hurts, like right now, but even through the hurt, it's so amazing and wonderful. Because I get to.

I'm trying hard to make it back

I had such a delicious morning. I made myself coffee, Allen made me pancakes with raspberries, and I caught up on a little bit of reading. I got a Little Mermaid shirt, and it's awesome. I'm wearing it right now, but only because my Labyrinth shirt is dirty. I'm also wearing a granny sweater, because why not?

Exhibit a:

I also dyed my hair. It's a day of alsos.

I watched hours of Big Think last night. Before I realized it, it was 1:00 am, and my tummy was so full of learning. I couldn't stop watching. I have a few I want to post, but it'll have to wait until I get home.

I'm sure I'll write again later, but I think I'm going to go take a nap right now. I'm sleepy.

Welcome to My Feels Hurt! Population: My broken feels

Merry Christmas, have some tears!

I'm off for the next few days, and I'm spending Christmas with Allen's family and my friends. I'm hugely excited. I have wrapping presents to do, I may try and brave the mall today, we'll see how ambitious I'm feeling.

I feel like I should have some Starbucks or something. Maybe. I'm going to go get my car, and I'm super fucking happy. Except I'm pretty sure it's just going to die again. Oy. I'm hoping for the best, but expecting the realistic.

Don't you know any other adjectives?

I just came home from a walk. It's bitter and cold outside. I went to the park, sat on the swings, and stared up into the cloudy sky. The clouds were too thick to find things in, though that doesn't stop me from trying.

My heart hurts tonight.

I took two xanax, and now I'm watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I love my labyrinth shirt. I wore it around earlier, and I would be sleeping in it, but I'm wearing it tomorrow to work. I've been positively giddy about it all day. Putting it on was the first thing I did when I came home from work. I've been smiling about it all day. I love it so much.

Mr. Rochester was an exploding car

I'm just kind of waiting for this day to hit rock bottom. I'm just venting here to make myself feel a bit better, because really I'm not in THAT bad a mood. It's been a pretty decent day, if you subtract all of the bullshit.

Let's tick down the list, shall we? But I'm going to include everything in it, even the good stuff.

- Jennifer was late picking me up this morning. Which didn't really bother me. She's doing me a favor, and I texted Monica to tell her what happened, and she was fine with it. I'm not in trouble, it just set the tone for the day.
- There was a HUGE...I mean HUGE...box of chocolates waiting for me as a Christmas present from one of the agents. Obviously, I've stuck it on the counter so everybody else can eat it. Thoughtful! But it makes me sad. Frowns!!
- I've gotten several gifts from agents for Christmas (a pretty hefty gift card, 100 bucks, a Starbucks giftcard, a scarf, and my favorite, the biggest bottle of Private Stock I've ever laid my eyes upon. Among others), and it's been lovely.
- They can't look at my car until fucking THURSDAY now. They sort of looked at it, but since I have a couple of Transmission codes in there, they're sending it to their transmission tech. Thursday. THURSDAY IS NOT TODAY. And I need my car three days ago. I also think it's wildly ineffective if they're just going to send my car off to a different person for each code they find. You have a few transmission codes? New technician. But you also have a computer code...new technician. At this rate, they'll have my car fully diagnosed by 2017. Mid July. Just in time for my birthday!
- They can't give me a loaner car, because Drea can get fucked, that's why. I, in very out of character fashion, threw a mighty conniption fit. As nicely as I could, of course, but a fit was thrown just the same. I talked to the service guy, a finance guy, the service manager, and the finance manager. Nothing. No loaner. Because I'm an out of dealership warranty. Or because they just don't like the cut of my jib.
- I'm on academic warning, because I fucked something up due to a misunderstanding. This is fine, at the end of the day, because it doesn't fucking with my grants, scholarships, or anything else. I just have to not make the same fuck up this semester, and keep my GPA above a 2.0. Which, honestly, is adorable. It's cute that they gave me such a low bar. Fuck that bar, I care not for it. It's below me. Get it? I AM FUCKING HILARIOUS.
- I get to save 300 bucks on my books for this semester, because I already have two of them! Yay!! So, I'll still be spending 700 bucks on learning (my accounting principles book is 325 damn dollars. I know accounting already. A/R and A/P for ten years now. Just give me a laser pointer, I'll teach the damn class. It's adorable that I think I know accounting in the way I'm going to learn it, isn't it? I'm so cute), but it could have been a grand. 300 extra bucks for me.
- I dropped two of my classes, so I'm only taking 15 credits this semester instead of 22. I'm doing my best to be cautious right now, because if something else in my life goes wrong, the ONE thing I am not willing to compromise is school. Everything else is whatever. Not school. It is the single most important thing in my life right now. So if I have to slow down a little bit and tack on an extra year to my graduation schedule, I'm fine with that. I'd rather not, but I am erring on the side of caution. School is too important for me not to.

I want Garbanzo, but can't get there. I'm not taking a lunch today, because I need to leave at 4 so Tosh can take me home. She's bottling her wine at 5, and I didn't want to wait around while they did that. I just want to go home and soak in my tub with a stiff as fuck drink. Which is precisely what I plan on doing, for those of you playing the home game.

I'm officially done with this day. Thank goodness it's almost over.

Hypocapnia my ass.

I finally got to see a huge number of views for my blog. 11,111. Aw yiss.

In today-was-totally-fucking-shit news, let's tick down the list of what happened:

- FedEx Office decided to be completely incompetent. Not terribly huge, but it's the tip of the iceberg.
- When I was getting ready to leave their parking lot, my car decides to die. Like a fucking champion. After a few minutes of me doing the following...crying hysterically, calling my professor to extend my presentation, calling my mom while still in hysterics, then talking to her serviceman, my car starts. Yay!
- While driving out of the parking lot, my car died. AGAIN.
- I called Tom to see if he'd come get me. Stevie got me first. Tom and Stevie got into a bicker war, which is completely my fault. Cool times.
- I got home and found out my car has a warranty, but I might be outside of it, because I somehow managed to drive 24 thousand miles in a year. I didn't even fucking go anywhere exciting. How did I manage that? There's still hope that I'm wrong about the amount of miles that were on the car, so that may not be wholly bad.
- Allen and I were eating dinner together and happily watching Star Trek when I get a text from The Swede, which promptly put me in a foul (read: upset to the point of tears) mood. It would have just been easier if he had stayed gone. I don't know how many times in my life I can say that and mean it before my heart breaks completely.

This is not to say that I am so broken up over The Swede and what he said that it's going to ruin me forever. Quite the contrary. I literally cried a few tears, and while I'm upset and disappointed, I'm going to be fine tomorrow. Do I feel foolish for believing the things he said to me the night before he disappeared? Of course I do. Anybody would. Then again, taking people at face value has always been my problem. I've always run under the assumption that because I wouldn't treat people a certain way, that they'd do me the courtesy So rarely is that the case. Such a shame, really. Maybe one day I'll be right.

I talked to my mom about this the other night. My mom thinks I'm a sex addict, and she's not the only person who thinks that. However, I don't speak about my growing understanding of my pathology, because I don't think I'm ready to discuss all of it at once yet. She did say that I need to go out of my way to not fuck anybody for a long, long time. She said I've let my sexuality define me, and that's not something anybody should ever do, especially somebody like me who has so much more to offer than that, and sex should be the least exciting thing about me. It's difficult to get into that mindset, honestly.

It's only for forever; it's not long at all.

I've slept more in the last four days than I think I have since the semester started. None of the front desk staff is at work today. Monica, Sara, and myself are all out of commission. I chatted with Holly a little bit today, since she's covering for us. This is the first time none of us have been there.

I think, the second I feel well enough to not just sit up for a few minutes at a time, but can stand, as well, I'm going to suck it up and get my hairs cut. I'm thinking of cutting everything at shoulder length and going with a bob. That may be delirium talking, however.

I've been having strange fever dreams. Some of them have been scary, a few of them have been lovely, and one or two have been so sad I've woken up crying out loud. Those ones are the worst.

I awoke this morning to pictures of bunnies sticking out their tongues, and puns for English nerds. The puns made me laugh so hard I couldn't stop coughing. Oh, puns. Don't let anybody make you think you're the lowest form of wit EVER. You do delight me so.

I was watching Rifftrax today, and Chris stopped by to check up on me. Well, sort of. He needed something that I had, but we'll say he did it to be a good friend. I accidentally coined the term "glitterature". I told him that I either did something so horrible to The Swede that he doesn't care about the stuff of his that I have, or he's possibly literally dead. Either way, I'm sad and disappointed. Nursing the wound continues.

I talked to my dad today. He's going to see The Hobbit. I want to go see it, too, but again, this pesky inability of mine to actually function as an adult in any position other than prostrate is keeping me from it. Maybe later this week.

How can one person be this tired? I feel like the world is crushing my chest in.

Run away with me. Experience something new.

Welp.

I spent today sleeping until 11:30. Did I feel better? Not even a little bit.

I am pretty sure I've been keeping the Florida Orange groves financially afloat with how much OJ I've purchased and subsequently drunk over the last two days (we're going two gallons strong here. I feel like my kidneys want to object, but fuck them).

I had my final quiz and exam due tonight by midnight (my business final was three different things. Ew). So, what did I do? I slept all fucking day, like a responsible adult. I woke up at 8 feeling addled, weak, and with the driest mouth EVER. I pissed about for a little bit, just being generally moan-y, and I finally read my last 40 pages and took my quiz and exam. The results? Not good. A 75 on my quiz, and a 71 on my exam.

Am I proud of that? No. The LOWEST score I ever got on a quiz was a 75 (though it should have been an 80. MY professor is just stubborn), and the lowest score I got on an exam was a 90. Yes, I could blame my lack of desire to read and do everything, but I am instead going to blame my cold. Which really is doing a number on me. I'm pretty sure I actually have the flu.

My mom and I were texting earlier, and I told her that being sick is the time when I wish I had a lap to curl into that belongs to someone who gives a fuck about me. She said I'm very strange, and then sent me a picture of her Christmas tree.

I'm deeply unhappy about having to go to work tomorrow. I may call off on Monday if this hasn't cleared up. I can't taste or smell or hear really anything at all. I feel like an old person.

I have one last final to finish tomorrow before 5. IT's a writing final, which should be just gravy for me. I'm not terribly worried about it.

I managed a B in philosophy, which surprises me greatly. Even with tonight's horrific display, I'm pretty sure I still got an A in my business class. My other class grades have to wait until next Thursday when they're released.

I'm about to medicate myself again so I can be functional for work tomorrow. Gross. I don't wanna.

I want a lap. And a rub.

Hey, it's nice to meet you, I am missus self destruct.

So, I'm pretty sure I fucking killed my philosophy final. Hard. I want to write all about it, but I'll have to save that for tomorrow.

I went and bought myself some soup from Bhan Thai, because it is delicious and soup is the go to when you have the flu. I ate half of it, and now I feel heavy and slightly nauseous. Which may be because I've had nearly half a gallon of orange juice today.

I have one last final to do. I cannot concentrate on the reading material any more. I'm going to medicate myself (Xanax, you're my best friend!) and pass the fuck out for hopefully more than 12 hours. I have until midnight tomorrow to finish it, so I will meet it with a less heavy head tomorrow.

For now, good fucking night Irene.

Dualism and you: a horror story of epic proportions

So, here's the deal.

I rejoined my gym two days ago. I didn't go yesterday or today, because I'm ill and I don't think they want my germs. I also don't know if my mucous-caked lungs could take it.

But if I feel better tomorrow, I'm going. Not running has been, oddly, miserable for me. I hate the inactivity that breaking my toe brought on. I did go running a week ago, which was delightful, but it's been so cold that the gym just seems like a safer bet.

I'm going to post this, much to my dismay:

Yuck. I'm not pleased that that is me. But I'm going to go to the gym at least five times a week, and do what I was doing before, and we'll see where we're at in two months. Well, where I'M at.

I'm trying so hard to study for this final, but my brain refuses to concentrate or retain anything. I fucking hate being sick.

I grabbed myself some Mucinex Severe Congestion and Cough, and I'm hoping it kicks in sooner rather than later. I'm taking off of work tomorrow, because I don't think I'll be able to function. Aside from my brain feeling pretty much like eggs that have been thrown into a car accident. my body feels three minutes away from broken. I have the very real feeling that once I'm done with my final tonight, I'm going to go into full on sickness mode. I'm being as tough as I can, because I know I have to be.

I hope I feel better tomorrow. I can't wait to get back to the gym, and not feel like roadkill.

Bonus Entry

Mother fucker.

I am getting sick. And it's going to be a bad one, I can tell. I have run myself so ragged for weeks and weeks and weeks, and now it's all catching up with me. I hope it can hold off until Friday night. But I don't think it will.

I noticed myself feeling oddly heavy and sleepy, so I took a small nap. I just woke up (a small nap turned into an hour), and my chest feels like it's made of lead, I can't stop coughing and it HURTS, my nose is stuffed, and my eyes hurt. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse.

Shit.

I need a rub and a blanket and a cup of tea.

I think I'm going to watch some Psych and go to sleep.

No cheeses for us meeces

It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, VERY bad day.

In lighter news for the moment, this is a thing that exists:

http://popuptee.com/collections/frontpage/products/its-not-long-at-all

That is such a seriously awesome fucking shirt. I can't even take it. I wish I didn't have two grand in bills to pay in the next couple of days, I would buy it up right this very moment, because it needs to be in my life. Sadly, the shirt will be gone by Friday when I get paid and I'd be able to get it. Balls. I hate being a responsible adult sometimes.

Allen and I got into a fucking HUGE fight today. It was awful, and I think he's still mad at me. It's been bumming me hard all day.

98% of the people who've called in to me today are talking to me like I'm a fucking retard, which I categorically am NOT.

I had do do twenty bazillion things in DORA, because the stupid contract drafts for 2014 just wouldn't behave, and I was beyond frustrated. I think, total, that took me three hours to finish.

Sara wasn't feeling well, so she went home early. I hope she's resting up and feeling better.

In other news that is not me bitching about my shitty day, Saturday night is our non-work Christmas shindig. I am so excited. Allen might bring Lindsay, because Sara said the more the merrier (festive!), and also because, while everybody that's going to be there is very fond of Allen, it might be nice for him to have someone there that is just for him in case he starts to feel awkward or something. I don't know.

Ryan bought the last three Cards Against Humanity Extensions, so I'm really looking forward to playing that with everybody and getting wastey-faced. Also food, because everybody is bringing something. I'm going to make chocolate chip pumpkin bread.

I have so much work to do tonight, but hopefully I'll be done in time to go up to GoG and do some sky staring. I've been kind of looking forward to that all day. I don't have to wake up early tomorrow, but I did want to catch some study time for one last cram push before my final tomorrow.

I am 100% planning on going out and taking photos next week. Thursday. Stevie and I have been planning on day-drinking the first free day from school, and Wednesday is the first free day for both of us. I'm looking forward to that, too. Anybody that doesn't like day drinking is not somebody that I need to associate myself with. Oh, the best things about me never, ever change.

In an infinite multiverse, there's no such thing as fiction

I would go out and stare at the stars tonight, but number one, the sky is too cloudy. Number two, it's fucking freezing out. Number three...that one is mine. I'm not sharing number three.

I cannot handle marketing right now. I don't...I can't fucking do it.

If I finish what I need to do tonight, and I know I will, I think I'll bundle up tomorrow night, grab a coffee, and sit at The Spot at GoG. I haven't been there for quite some time. I wanted to go watch the Geminids the other night, but the weather was far too awful for that, and I didn't really want to go do that alone. So I opted to not. In my head, though, the owls would have been calling, the wolves would have been baying, every single star would have been brightly shining, or bravely falling, and the world would have been almost perfect.

I literally have an apple in the pocket of my coat. And I don't remember putting it there.

I've been listening to old music today. The song I currently have on repeat is:

I fucking LOVE Otis Redding. Sure, everybody likes Sittin' On The Dock of the Bay. It's a solid song. But Coffee and Cigarettes, Love Man, and A Change is Gonna Come are so so so much better. 

Stevie and I have been chatting about all of the things we're going to do if we move in together. This spiraled into a conversation about how radical the CEO of Costco is, and how much Wal*Mart fucking blows, and why The Salvation Army, Jelly Belly, and Chick-Fil-A are spearheaded by assholes. 

I am so excited to leave work today. I'm tired, and kind of hungry (I did improvise myself a grilled cheese for lunch today, which I'm exceptionally thrilled with myself for. I'm a god damn genius).

Stevie and I are talking about renting a house now. I am so excited about this. We're thinking a three bedroom, so we can each have our own room, and then share an office. 

Allen is thinking about buying a house. 

there is so much adult stuff going on, and I'm currently thinking about Tupperware. 

Good god damn, I love adverbs!...ly

The work Christmas party was last night.

I wish I could say I had an awful time, but I really didn't.

The Swede came and picked me up, and he looked absolutely handsome. This wasn't a shock, since I find him handsome regularly. But he really stepped it up last night, and the outcome was wonderful. I internally swooned a little bit. Ok. A lot a bit.

The drive up to Monument, once we escaped the hideous I-25 traffic, was just gorgeous. Everything was covered in snow, and the streets were lined with huge, snowy trees. The effect was, as I always say of the snow, like staring at magic.

Having never been to a work function (1. I never had anybody that wanted to go with me, and I didn't want to show up alone and B. I always assumed I'd be bored out of my mind because nobody likes me), I had no idea The Hideaway is as pretty as it is. I introduced The Swede to the few people I like, we grabbed drinks, and then sat down at an empty table. I told him that yt?if it wound up being just us at the table, that I wouldn't care one bit. Sara came over and said she was going to sit with us instead, and then one of our vendors came over and sat next to me, and he was a riot to sit next to. He had a musical tie, which delighted me to no end, and he was pretty much a dead ringer for NPH. After dinner (which was decent, but nothing to write home about), they had this DELICIOUS peach cobbler for dessert. Sara got up to do some things, and Mark (our St.  Aubyn vendor) stole her cobbler, and it actually took her awhile to notice. I think I had more fun with The Swede, Sara, and Mark than I did mingling with everybody else. Which I refrained from doing.

Sara told us that there was foosball and ping pong downstairs, so we grabbed our wine and moseyed. I played some foosball...fucking HORRIBLY...with Sara, Mark, and Danny, played an absolutely shit game of ping pong, watched a bit of Shark Tank, and then Sara suggested that the three of us leave and go to a bar, because she was bored, and we were bored (though, actually, when Sara and I had this conversation, The Swede was knee-deep in a ping pong game with one of my agents), and playing darts would have been ten times more fun. The Swede finished his game, and then we all left and went to Hilltop. It was so deliciously dive-y! I loved it. We were so overdressed, but that didn't matter a wink to me. We played a couple games of darts, and then we played pool.

Holy shit.

The Swede is fucking GOOD at pool. I'm not so bad myself, but jesus. It sparked such a fun competitive streak in me. I won the first game we played, he won the second, and I won the third by default because he scratched the eight (with honestly one of the most gorgeous pool shots I've ever seen in person). But he's really, really good. And again, not to be all gushy, but he looked god damn incredible. During the first game we played, I sank a pretty fucking gorgeous shot that made everybody go, "Damn!" or some similar exclamation, and Sara looked at The Swede and goes, "Yeah. I know her." this made me laugh uproariously. I spent most of the evening laughing. It was such a good night.

Sara bailed at about midnight. Stevie and Mike were considering meeting up with us, but Mike fell asleep and Stevie had flex time at 4, so that didn't happen, and The Swede and I left at 12:45 (after playing our final game of pool. The one I won on a technicality). That bar was actually really fucking fantastic. I made generic friends with quite a few people that were there, everybody was so friendly...I may tell Sara we should go back. She very much liked The Swede. We're in the middle of planning a non-office Work Christmas Party, and she told The Swede he needs to come.

It was so fucking cold out last night. It was 0 degrees when we left, and for some reason, my room never ever ever got warm. The Swede and I were balled together the whole night, and when I woke up this morning, his face was damn near frozen. The rest of him was quite warm (because my body is a god damn heater, and I was draped all about him like some sort of climbing vine), but his poor face. Ice.

I told him last night that I had missed him in the time I haven't seen him. And it made me nervous to do so. I don't want to freak him out or scare him off or anything along those lines, because I truly enjoy his company, and I'm very, very happy when he's around. I also don't want to walk down a route of things I say or feel not being reciprocated. That's ugly, and it doesn't feel nice. I have this horrible fear of that, but I also have this horrible need to be honest. When I feel something, I say it. Because I'm a fucking adult, that's why, and that's what adults do. We've been seeing each other for a month, and I'm getting to the point where I'd like to see him more often, and also that starting to actively and genuinely care about him. I'd hate to be alone in that, and the scared, nervous, insecure girl in me wants to just throw in the towel now and save myself the aggravation of finding out that that's just me, and he doesn't feel the same way, and Drea comes out looking foolish again.

INSTEAD, I'm just going to try and tone it down and be sensible and not be a freak, and I'll play this by ear. If he's got that going on, too, well that's fucking aces, and I'll be more than pleased. If not, I won't have said anything ridiculous, and I won't have to worry about budding feels getting trampled over. Everybody wins.

Let's look through a telescope and fall asleep together at 9:30

I have been burning myself out on studying and exams. I just took my last quiz for philosophy, and I'm taking a small break to write in here before I work on my worldview paper. Which will probably be about ten pages long. I'm not excited about it, but I outlined it pretty solidly, and it'll hopefully go very, very quickly.

I went to the gym with Tom last night, and I hit it pretty fucking hard. I feel great today as a result, and I'm sad I can't go to the gym with him tonight, as well. We were at the gym for an hour and a half, and then we drove around for an hour and talked. He's been having some trouble with his girlfriend, and Tom and I have a few similarities, so I was able to empathize and give him solid opinions. I was really glad that we got to talk to each other. He in turn said some very nice things about me, and I really appreciated it. After I got home, I went over to Stevie's for studying time/paper writing. When I left at ten to two, it was -5 outside, and the wind chill made it feel like it was -16. Fun! I got about three hours of sleep, took Allen to work, and couldn't get back to sleep. I just laid on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, letting hundreds of thoughts run along my head. I may or may not have started counting my insecurities and trying to talk myself out of them. I'm not sure if that worked or not.

I need to finish this paper. I don't want to. I want to just snuggle up and drink tea (successfully drinking tea without sugar. Yay! I feel like such an adult!) and listen to music, or read a book, or watch a movie. Hopefully I can crush this paper in the next hour and a half. If I do, I'm rewarding myself with a long soak in my tub.

In beautiful news, all of the snow in the air made a lovely rainbow around the cloud-covered sun. I tried to take a picture on my phone, but I failed miserably.

Ok, paper. Back to you.

Motherfuckin' booze time

It's almost 9. I have 3 1/2 hours to finish his stupid fucking project, and I am sweating bullets over it. As evidenced by my stopping to write in my blog. But I just needed a tiny break.

This week and next week are going to be so stressful. This'll teach me to pack on a twenty credit course load (for four weeks...I already signed up for the next twenty). I knew finals week was going to be a bummer. Oh, well.

I have to write my philosophy professor and tell him that I'm going to miss class on Friday, because I have to go to my Christmas party for work. I took a picture and showed it to Tom last night and asked him how I looked, and if skin-tight red dresses would be ok for me to wear. Since I want to be kind of impressive looking, going with The Swede and all. He reacted favorably, so there's that.

It's time for me to get back to work. It's so fucking cold outside, and snowy-ish, and I really want to go take pictures.

You're flirting with disaster when you kiss and tell, my love

When music evokes images of something incredibly specific, I kind of fall in love with it.

Allen went on a music spree while I was putting on my makeup yesterday, and he found this:

Holy shit, this song. The end falls apart for me, but it's like, twelve seconds of music lost. That's it. The rest of the song makes me think of reckless, intense sex. I can't get enough of it. I played it for The Swede this morning on the way back from breakfast (I have no idea how I've gone this long without having ever gone to Over Easy. It. Was. Amazing), but he didn't particularly care for it. Which is fine. He did listen to Why?, which delighted me, and we started off the morning with The Eels (yay!!) and tea. I took pictures of him all morning, and left his house after breakfast so he could work on a budget for work, and so I could get some ham and bean soup, because fuck yes. I do have to remember to save him some, because I said I would.

He told me he had missed me last night. I was quite pleased, but a bit taken aback by it. I didn't say anything. My head debated if he meant that he missed me, or missed having sex with me, so I felt it was safer to not say anything back. Regardless of my insecure and residually paranoid inner monologue, I rather missed him legitimately in the duration of not seeing him, and I was sad to leave this morning. I've been sad to leave/see him leave the last couple of times we've been together, especially if one of us is leaving in the super early am.

I have papers to write tonight. This is my second to last week of the semester, so I'm fairly certain I won't have any time to write in here or go off and take pictures for the next week or so. I'll try and steal time to jot a thought or two, since I know I'm wildly fucking riveting and my silly, pointless words will be so sorely missed.

Alright, business. I'm about to fucking shred this paper. In the best way, of course.

As an end note, the sky outside is a warm shade of blue, and it's highlighted with vibrant pink and orange clouds. I wish I were out taking photos. Dammit, GPA. It's time like these that I wish I didn't give a fuck about you.

Drea - Apostle and True Pie Aficionado: a Love Story

Oy. So, sometimes the blog has a mind of its own and decides it wants to change formats and look fucking weird. I fiddled with my original post for a solid thirty minutes, and I give up. Main points:

- I went dress shopping for the Christmas party, found a fantastic high neck/keyhole back lace dress that I didn't buy  because I'll never wear it again, and 100 bucks for something like that is frivolous.

- I DID buy a new pair of shoes for 10 bucks, they were originally 40, and I love them. Along with the shoes were earphones fit for running with, and an off the shoulder coral sweater. I'll be wearing those things this evening for times with the gang and times with The Swede, and I will look adorable.

- I sort of internally freaked out because I invited The Swede to come have food with The Gang tonight...not because I'm ready to have my friends meet him, but because my biggest pet peeve is people talking about grand things they're going to do and not inviting me to them. I invite everybody to everything I speak of in front of them because of this (golden rule, mother fuckers. Treat people the way you'd like to be treated. I practice that). I'm vaguely worried he was under the impression that I felt it necessary for him to meet all of my friends and that I  may or may not have freaked him out with my invitation. Too late to take it back, and explaining would seem silly. The whole worrying about it is silly, but I'm very girly in my head sometimes.

- I'm super excited to be with the most of the people I love the most in the world tonight. Food, drinking, silliness, and, as per Stevie's new rule, only the parts of the internet we're already familiar with. Yay!

- I'm also excited to see The Swede.

- And the most important part:

Allen stayed with his lady friend on Wednesday night (no need to name-drop), and then he wrote about it that morning. Not a drippy little love sonnet or anything like that. He had shared with me previously that staying at her house brought odd occurrences, and since they happened again, he thought he needed to write about it. One of my favorite things about Allen is his ability to write. He does it so beautifully and it reads effortlessly. I've always been slightly jealous of his abilities, to be honest. It's nice that he thinks I'm a good writer. It softens the blow of his outrageous talent. Jerk. Anyway, here's what he wrote. It's a very rough draft, according to Allen (and I agree. It's not difficult to read because of that, but it does cut from the streamlined feel), and I haven't touched it up at all. Here it is:

Seems like forever
since someone straightened my collar
and startled neighbors into burning sage.

I still hear echos in the dark with you.
Those familiar ghosts.

One watches me not sleeping,
and sees my eyes on the ceiling
Irises dilate
Crow's feet on her face

One breathes
almost in time with you
Slower
Warm air rushes through the cobwebs in her lungs
A dusty organ played after a long vacation,
A dirge in remembrance of a kiss
on my neck before you slept.

One traces with a translucent finger
my limbs, numb from your head resting on my thigh
I know it's not pins and needles,
And I cannot bring myself to wake you.

When I'm alone,
nobody adjusts my collar but me,
and I sleep soundly,
only waking with alarms.
Though I miss the numbness in my extremities
or being close enough to feel teeth behind lips

The times I spend not sleeping with you
are ghosts that follow only us around.

I loved it. He has a number of other poems that I love (but they are old, old, old. He wrote me one, once. I think he wrote me two. But I have never shared them with anyone. They're on old paper, carefully tucked away with my most precious of possessions), and I believe I have them in my email. I'd kind of like to make an entire post with my favorite poems of his, and take pictures of things to go along. He is my best friend in the whole world, and I think that anybody viewing my blog should know how fucking talented he is.

All the while, the girl sang

So, tonight got super fucking real for a little bit. But all in all, it was a grand night. Allen and I grubbed on our super radical Thanksgiving schtuffs (seven layer dip and tortilla chips. Nailed it!), I took a double header of a particularly pleasant favorite thing of mine (it starts with a V and ends in -icodin, in case you were curious), Allen had a Xanax, and we watched some MST3K. Mike called to tell me he and Stevie were on their way. Lindsey showed up, quite unexpectedly, bringing Allen some food from her Thanksgiving thing she did today, and she hung out for a little bit. Then Stevie and Mike showed up, and we just steamrolled into about an hour of some seriously uncomfortable time. Stevie, Mike, and I were introduced to a corner of the internet we'd never seen, and I personally don't want to revisit it. Lindsey left, Allen went to bed, and Stevie, Mike, and I dicked around for about an hour. Mike and I are pretty big on repping movies and talking like we know things about said movies. Which we don't (tonight's movies were Gladiator, Chocolat, Crash, Castaway, and a few others. Gladiator more than anything else). Mike wins this game every single time, because I can't keep a straight face. Stevie said she couldn't handle it anymore, so they just went home.

My house is quiet now. I'm tired, but not tired enough to sleep. I'm thinking about taking a Xanax and going to sleep, but I've already had two vicodin, some booze, and two Redbulls. I'm starting to wonder if my heart is going to stop at some point in the next few hours.

Come to me, my melancholy baby

Yesterday was a good day.

I was on my way home from a fantastic evening (via a very long way. Allen was with me, and we drove through GoG and up to Graffiti Falls, chatting and listening to music), when The Swede asked if I wanted to come by. After doing a favor for someone, I headed over, singing at the top of my lungs in my car (I am LOVING that I rediscovered For The Girl by The Fratellis. That song makes me so fucking happy, even though it's horribly dark). A few minutes after I got there, his neighbor came over, and she said something about needing to vent, so I was like, hey, I'm a stranger, you can vent to me! So she came back in, and we chatted for about an hour. She was so delightful. Very young, but delightful. We shared tattoos, and awful, award dating stories. The Swede was making glögg (I am damn near positive I spelled that correctly. Also, it was fucking delicious) and some sort of chocolate cake thing (which also smelled incredible), Andrea (Ha, fun times. Andrea, Andreas, and Ondrea. OBVIOUSLY the perfect group of people) and I were chatting, music was playing...it was just a lovely time. After she left, The Swede and I continued chatting and listening to music and generally having a fantastic time. We watched a movie, I debated on going out and grabbing something to eat at 1am, but I was a little too out of my head to accomplish anything other than a car accident, and I started falling asleep on him halfway through. So, we went to bed, and I think I may have fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation. I'm horribly inconsiderate. I woke up this morning, and The Swede made me tea (my first successful cup of tea with absolutely no sweeteners in it. I feel like an adult!), put on more music, and I watched him sing and dance around. While I am not in any sense of the term a morning person, I was wildly delighted to take part in the dancing with him. He played his mandolin for me, and there was a bit more dancing before I left (to a fucking FANTASTIC song that I've been listening to on repeat for the last twenty minutes or so). Check it:

Super wonderful, right? I know. Good stuff. I had such a good time with him last night, and I'm excited to see him on Saturday (after working and food times with the gang. Since we're not doing Thanksgiving stuff today, that happens this weekend. Yay!).

I had been texting Stevie all morning, so I went to her house when I left The Swede's. I asked her if she wanted to go to breakfast with me, but she didn't respond in time, so we ate cereal while she made sweet potatoes. We watched a shitload of Investigation Discovery, and discussed how our dreams are now to be either reenactment actresses, or infomercial actresses. Because obviously, those careers are the pinnacle of success. I hung out for a few hours, and then it was time for her to go to her parents' with Mike. Stevie and Mike will be here in a couple of hours, and I'm excited for all of us to hang out. I grabbed a big platter of dips and chips, and I'm going to cook up some chicken to go with it. Yum. And yay!

I got a text from my buddy Nick on my way home, and I told him we should do something soon.

Allen got home shortly before I did (he spent the night with a lady last night. I like this particular lady, even though I've only met her once. She might come for festivities this weekend, which means she'll be integrated into the gang. I love this part...I love seeing how the newest person someone is dating fits in. But she really is cool as fuck, so I'm pretty positive everybody else will like her), and I wasn't expecting him home yet, so I was pleased that he was here. We chatted about our evenings, and then commenced listening to music. He played me a song by Sadistik that I REALLY liked, and then he read me the poem he wrote this morning when he got home. As per his usual, it was just gorgeous. I told him I loved it, but I wish his poetry didn't all sound so sad, because I just want him to be happy. He laughed at me, but quite good-naturedly. He;s upstairs napping right now.

I'm listening to the song I embedded above, and I'm thinking about things. I feel quite content right now. I'm debating on running before everyone gets here, and I know I should. I'm just trying to get up the motivation. I feel so calm and pleased, like a cat bathing in shafts of sunlight. I don't want to go anywhere at all. Perhaps I'll write something, too. I want to run around and take picturres so I can get a little bit of legitimate work-out accomplished, but um...I don't think I'm going to. I'll just take pictures when Mike and Stevie come over. I'm not sure if Chris is coming, so I'll text him in a minute and find out.

I'm off to enjoy the rest of my quiet time before Allen wakes up. I think I'm going to have a tub and read the book I'm borrowing from The Swede. Today is also a good day. It's incredibly cliche, but I'm grateful for everything. Not just today, but everyday. Shit gets really hard sometimes, and there are days when I feel like nothing is worth it. Like I'm not worth it. But when I snap back to reality, I am so fucking in love with being alive. I have amazing friends, I have my intellect, I have my experiences and the things I've learned, and aside from trivial things, I want for nothing. They're all good days. Even the shitty ones.

The unbearable lightness of being

I had to take my friend to the hospital tonight. I stayed with her and took her to grab her scripts when they released her. I dropped her off, helped her upstairs, and went back home.

I'm sad tonight. I watched a movie with Allen, but he went to bed, so I've made myself another drink, and I'm listening to music while I write. A big part of me wants to draw a bath so I can soak in the tub and cry my little face off, but I don't have the energy.

I'm hoping to feel a bit more normal tomorrow. I have nothing at all to do, so I'm thinking I might go walk around downtown and take some photos. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow night instead. But I'd still like to go out and take pictures. I'm sad that Graffiti Falls is entirely closed down. I'd like to go take some pictures up there, but I can't even park at the bottom. Maybe I'll drive out to Manitou Lake. Maybe I'll look up new places to go.

I don't want to sleep by myself right now.

I'm debating on whether or not I should watch a movie to help me fall asleep, keep listening to music, or take a xanax.

It's amazingly clear out tonight. I just sat outside and watched the stars for a little bit. I never know what to say when I do that. That seems like as good an ending place as anything: I don't know what to say.

The star thief

So, I wanted to catch up on my creeping today. I went to Starbucks, got a chai latte, and sat down. After the first click, the girl sitting next to me chatted me up about cameras for a moment, and told me she creeps on people at CSU, because it's the perfect place to do it. I never thought about creeping on someone at school, so I think I'll do that next week.

Here's who I focused on today. I left Starbucks with a big ol' soft spot for this guy. He was editing a book he wrote, and he was using green paper. How could I not love him for these moments?

I smiled at him when I left, and he saluted me. I wanted to sit with him and get a closer picture of his face.

The old gentleman was out on the corner again. Another young kid that was sitting inside of Starbucks went out and spoke to him, then bought him a coffee. When I left, I stopped at his table and told him that what he did was so incredible, and I asked him if I could buy him a coffee. He said no and looked away from me. He didn't seem to want to chat. I looked for my opportunity again to take the older fellow to get something to eat, but he was gone when I left Starbucks.

Lordy! I am erotic and supple!

Exhibit A:

One day, I'll learn how to smile correctly, and not look like a fucking idiot.

I'm becoming insanely bored with growing my hair out. Not because I don't want long hair, but I'm still trying to recover from the chop job I got at the beginning of last year. I'm thinking about waiting another few months, then chopping everything off at my chin and starting fresh.

I have to clean my house, because Andreas will be here in an hour and fifteen minutes, and everything is a disaster.

I can escape anything but....

Big Black Delta has done it again.

I listened to their entire CD today, and while I only liked a few songs on it, those songs are EXCEPTIONAL.

I did some solid research and digging today, and put together every single thing I want for my new camera. If I buy all 11 things I set aside, then I'll have my dream set up for 2,003.58. This includes the new camera I want, so I'm obviously quite the little bargain hunter.

I'm going to make my own bookshelf (I use that term loosely) to hang up on my wall so I can get rid of my bookshelf and have more space in my room. I'm hoping to find a small corner desk that I can stash in my room so I can get rid of my long desk entirely and use my office space as a photo/painting space.

Speaking of painting, I am plum out of canvas. I wanted to paint yesterday, so I went up to my art closet to find that I have absolutely nothing to paint on. I was upset. But not upset enough to go to Michael's and buy some more. I may do that on my way home, because I need to sit and paint, and this week will be perfect for that.

Stevie is going to give me a three level cage for the boys, and I'm very pleased about this. They need more space, and now I can get them a big exercise wheel and three hammocks (they're spoiled little brats, clearly). And um...maybe one more rat. Because I love my rats, and I think they're far more entertaining than cats are. Plus, my boys are always excited to see me, whereas my stupid fat black cat just sort of looks at me blankly and walks away. Unless I have important things to do...then she's all about it. What an old dummy.

My philosophy professor is teaching the ethics course I want to take next semester, but he's teaching it at a time that I can't attend. This is kind of a shame, because I like him quite a bit. However, Mike has the professor that is teaching the class I AM taking, and he says he's kind of awesome.

I'm procrastinating, in case it wasn't obvious to those of you playing the home game. I should stop.

I just want your back to my front all night long as it is

It's god damn delicious outside right now. It's foggy, and the trees are beautifully dressed in hoarfrost. I'm so sad I didn't take my camera with me to work this morning. I would go out and take pictures when I get home, but I have to shower so I can be all pretty when The Swede comes over (yay!).

I'm not feeling particularly well today, though. It's ladytime, and I hurt all over. I need a rub and a nap. Alas, I'm stuck at here.

Stevie and Mike came over last night. Stevie did homework, while Mike, Allen, and I dicked around. I love when they come over to visit. We all get so silly and laugh so hard. I am so lucky to have the friends that I do. There's a lot of teasing that goes on, but it's all in good fun, and I know my friends all love me. I feel safe and happy when I'm around them. I'm excited for Saturday. Food, booze, and my friends. It's going to be fantastic.

Today is my Friday, and I'm really looking forward to having this week off. I won't have anything to do, really. Well, I have a ten page paper to write, and another paper to write, and a presentation to put in order, but that's not really anything at all. I'm planning on many, many baths with tea and reading. I have lots of books to catch up on, and this will definitely afford me the opportunity.

I have to finish all of my work today, because I need to write my synthesis paper before I see The Swede tonight. I will have little to no desire to do any kind of homework once he comes over. When I say little, I'm being overly generous.

I tried to take a picture of outside a moment ago, but my camera phone sucks balls. It's a bit frustrating, since this camera is the entire reason I bought the HTC One in the first place. It should be grand...it has an ISO setting, a white balance setting, the HDR mode...but the quality pictures are few and far between. Are we going to blame user error? Fuck no we're not!

Speaking of cameras, I'm very heavily researching my next one. I figure I'll get it with my tax money, so I don't have to wait much longer. I do want to know what I'm getting into, however. And because I love my lenses, I'm going to stick with Nikon. I'm thinking of entering a photo contest for a 60D, but I browsed the entries, and I don't know if I have anything as good as some of the things I saw. It's wildlife themed. I was thinking of entering my mantis photo, one of my gorilla photos, and my mountain lion photo (I do love monochrome, after all). I'll look through the entries again once I finish this damn newsletter.

Skeleton Crew: a bare bones operation

I'm cleaning out lightroom so I can delete everything and start all over. So, I've reloaded all 6700 some odd photos I've put into it, and I'm pouring through all of them. I'm going to post the ones I like, because that's what this blog is for, and I've done a lot more talking than photo posting as of late. Let's try and get caught up.

While you're looking at these photos, perhaps you should take a listen to this, because it is my fucking lady jam right now:

Good! Now that we've got that going, pictures!!

My lady friend at Bhan Thai lets her daughter run all over the place. Since she's quiet, I don't mind her. I took this picture a few months ago, while very briefly dating Sam.

Speaking of Sam....

He wound up being a creepy liar and kind of hateful, but I did like this photo. Months after the fact.

You know what's NOT hateful?

A porcupine munching on lettuce!!

Little Houdini

So, classes were delayed this morning, but it would throw off my schedule to keep up with the time set back, so here I am at home. I decided to take advantage of being home, and I got a good deal of work done. It's cold, grey, and snowy outside. Being at home in this kind of weather? That calls for a bubble bath, a book, and some tea.

So, I went to the store to get all of the things. I also got stir-fry stuff for me and Allen, because I haven't had stir fry in AGES, and I want some.

On my way out, I was an old man standing on the corner, shivering and miserable, with a sign in his hands. I couldn't see what it said, but I turned around and drove into Starbucks, and ordered a hot cider (I don't know how coffee sits with everyone, or hot chocolate. I figured cider was safe) with the intention of parking, giving him the cider, and taking him somewhere warm for a bite to eat. It really is fucking MISERABLE outside today, and nobody should have to be standing on a street corner in this weather. As I was waiting in the drive through line to get his cider, I was so fucking DELIGHTED to see a younger gentleman get out of his car, talk to the older man for a few moments, and then escort him to his Jeep. It made me cry just a little bit. So, since I couldn't do what I wanted to do, I found another way to do something nice, and I paid for the drinks of the car behind me. I took my chai and drove home, fixed myself the most gorgeous bath, and then read Dirk Gently for 45 minutes in the tub, drinking my warm tea and feeling lovely about the world.

Now, I'm sitting on my couh, feeling so god damn smooth I almost want to die, writing in my blog and listening to Sage Francis while trying not to disturb the sleeping, purring kitten curled up in my lap.

This is a fantastic day so far.

The knife is mine, and I won't use it yet.

It was a draining evening. 

I'm studying now for loads of things. My philosophy quiz, first and foremost. My philosophy outline is next (my last philosophy paper!), and if I'm still awake and ambitious, I may knock out my synthesis paper. 

I'm taking a break from studying and reading Bukowski, because sometimes I just need to do that. I forget so many of his poems, and so many of the ones I forget are just brilliant. Raw With Love is one of my forgotten favorites. 

Lines like these re absolutely golden:

 I won't blame you, 

instead 
I will remember the kisses 
our lips raw with love 
and how you gave me 
everything you had 
and how I 
offered you what was left of 
me, 
and I will remember your small room 
the feel of you 
the light in the window 
your records 
your books 
our morning coffee 
our noons our nights 
our bodies spilled together 
sleeping 
the tiny flowing currents 
immediate and forever 
your leg my leg 
your arm my arm 
your smile and the warmth 

of you

The poem does go on, but those are the best lines. The last line is perfect (it's my blog title!), but without the entire poem as a contextual backdrop, quoting is is useless here. 

Perhaps I'm still leaving things. Breadcrumbs that lead to nowhere, but are being dropped just the same. Old habits, I suppose. 

My nightmares are returning. I had a particularly brutal one last night. I knew that was coming, though. 

Tomorrow is my long day. I have a couple of stops to make in the morning before school. I don't really want to go, I just want to hang out in my robe and drink coffee while I read Bukowski, look at photos, and who knows what else. I'll probably spend  few days next week doing that. 

I'm super excited for Sunday!! Most of next week is going to be pretty damn solid, but I'm most excited for this Sunday. 

Intimate sketch of an artist

I've been listening to a lot of Damien Jurado lately.

This is my favorite:

I had a great night with The Swede (which I realize sounds kind of condescending, as far as monikers go, but it's completely affectionate) on Monday. He read some of the things I've written, gave me a bit of feedback (and I changed some of what I'd written because he made a couple of exceptionally valid points), we went and fetched some Greasy and started The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, which was really, really good (I JUST finished it this morning. I fell asleep watching it last night. I fell asleep watching it on Monday, too. Not because it was boring, but because I was both tired and quite comfy). It looked interesting, and of course I appreciate a good solid dose of vignetting in my cinematography, and the score was damn near perfection.

I hung out with Stevie for a little bit last night watching A Crime to Remember and talking about our next semester. It's been hard for me to concentrate for the last month. My brain has been highly preoccupied. But I'm almost done, and then I can spend four weeks as preoccupied as I'd like.

I have a family photo shoot to do in the next week or two.

I have to drive to the other end of town today, because certain places in the Springs are closed on a Wednesday, which is the dumbest day of the week to be closed, but I need to get this out.

Holly and I are having drinks tonight. I'm not sure where yet, but it's going to be grand. If Tosh isn't working, I'm going to ask if she wants to come, too. I need a night out with my girls.

I was upset the last time I posted in here. I said things publicly that I shouldn't have, and I spit venom where I didn't need to. I thought about deleting the post, but I'm not going to. I'm still not sure if I was saying things out of spite, or if I actually meant what I said. Perhaps the truth lies somewhere in the in-between. Duality in that context is completely possible.

I'm looking forward to drinks tonight, I'm looking forward to seeing Eenz on Friday (I haven't seen him in months! He's been so busy with his domestic lifestyle with Minz and her boys that he hasn't had much time to visit me, but I'm glad I get to hang with him Friday afternoon), and I'm very, very much looking forward to seeing Andreas (that's The Swede, for those of you playing the home game) on Sunday. I think the plan for Sunday is HuHot, and then a movie.

I want to go out and take pictures today, but I can't. I have so much stuff to finish before the semester ends. I have all of next week off, but I'm going to spend it finishing everything I have that's due.

I ran into Kody last night, and I told him I'd help him with his philosophy homework (we have a world outline and a quiz due on Friday). I won't be able to do that until tomorrow night after I get out of class, though. For now,  it's article review time. Ew.

Fabulous apple is fabulous and other splendid tales

So, it's a little bit slow in here today. I kind of decorated my lunch apple.

It's been an exceptionally extreme 72 hours. I don't really want to talk about all of it on here, even though I suppose I no longer have the need for my other two blogs. I don't know why I bothered to keep them separated or hidden. I was never doing anything bad, I was just trying to be considerate.

The Swede is coming over tonight, though (yay!!)! I'm not sure what we're going to watch yet, but I told him since I've picked the last four movies we've watched, it's definitely his turn.

Allen and I had dinner at HuHot last night. I don't know why we've never been there before, but it was delicious. My mood went tumbling down a little bit after we got there, but after a thirty minute phone call and a ten minute bawling session on the shoulder of my best friend, I felt better. Much better. And I feel exponentially better today. I think that realizing things isn't the same as vocalizing them, and vocalizing them to the person who needs to hear them is wonderfully cathartic. Nothing that I said mattered and I know it, but it mattered to me, and at the end of the day, that's really all that's important.

I'm not anybody to be ashamed of, and while I'm not perfect, I'm a good person. There is nothing embarrassing about me. I do things differently, and I know this. I'm bi-polar, and I can't help this. I'm tall, and I'm loud, and I like to be a little bit outrageous, and I love that about myself. To feel like I'm worthless for two years and change, and to feel like I was the person who needed to be different was foolish of me, and fucking wrong of Dan to instill those ideas. Which he did, without a second thought.

I told Dan that it hurt that he doesn't consider this a great loss. But you know what? I don't, either. Dan was...well, is...poisonous and opportunistic, and, in his own words, "unduly unkind". I should have walked the very first time I wanted to, two months after we started seeing each other. But, like I told him last night, he is practically a professional at saying something that would trick me just enough into thinking that maybe I was wrong, and maybe I did matter.

Dan did some very nice things for me. I am SO grateful for my camera and the lens he bought me, as well as the spare battery and the cleaning kit. It reintroduced me to a hobby I had given up, and now I'm getting pretty good at it. He helped me when I had my cryo. He gave me enough money to get my second round of cryo done. And not to minimize, but those are extremely small drops in the bucket, and given the choice, I would have much rather had some sort of validation and legitimacy given to me, and maybe a bit...just a BIT...of actual, real feelings from him. It's easy to feign affection behind closed doors. It always bothered me that I went to all of his Army functions when he asked, and the three times I asked him to go to work things with me, he never, ever would. It's not like I was super excited to sit quietly next to him for hours on end because I had no fucking idea what I was to him, but I did it, because that's the sort of thing you do when you care about somebody.

Maybe I'm martyring myself, but I feel like I always bent over backwards for Dan. I tried to include him in everything, even though I knew he was always going to shoot down whatever it was I wanted him to do, I told other people who mattered to me about him, and I don't think any of that was reciprocal. I remember last Christmas I stepped outside in the snow storm, called Anali absolutely bawling my ass off and saying that I was going to get in my car and drive home and never look back, because I heard Dan tell his mom that he wasn't doing anything that night, he was just at home, and no, he wasn't hanging out with anybody  because all of his friends had other plans. I wasn't even good enough to be a nameless friend.

I'm better than that. And I want to say that Dan is better than being with somebody that he's not ashamed of, but maybe he's not. Maybe that's all he's capable of doing, because he is, despite my initial protestations to him, broken. Thinking back, I don't think Dan deserved any of the love and respect I gave him. I don't  see how he possibly could. It doesn't matter. It never did. Not to anybody but me, and that's lonely. It's the realization that you've been alone for years when you thought someone was right there with you that hurts, not really the being let go of/letting go. That part is easy...I've been letting go (just to grab back on, in fairness) for ages.

I can completely let go now. I can reconcile my blame in this, because I am culpable for some of it, but mostly, I feel like I can breathe again, and I can stop feeling so fucking sad over someone who wasn't fucking worth it.

The Man From Earth? More like the...the...ok, I've got nothin'.

Busy, busy, busy week!

Last night was very relaxed, though. I watched Solaris (which I didn't fucking understand at ALL. I just sort of sat through it going "I...whuh...hrm...I...well fuck this, George Clooney."), went to The Rabbit Hole and had the most delicious pear martini (that was just about the size of my face, and it damn well better have been, for the price gouging), went and got sub-par greasy from Taco Star instead of my usual, then watched Ocean's Eleven. Ran into some YPNers at The Rabbit Hole. They were being obnoxiously loud, so it was pretty much down the hatch and bouncing out.

I'm playing hooky today to get some serious work done. I'm two papers behind, and thankfully I won't be docked for lateness on either of them. But I do want to get them done. First, though, is my philosophy quiz. Here's about how I look right now (THIS IS NOT A DRILL):

This is my second Red Bull in the last two hours, and I feel like I can fucking see sound.

My philosophy teacher sent me a response back on my last paper, and it annoyed me. I got an A on it, but the question he asked me was something I covered pretty much throughout the paper. I wanted to email him back, "Read it again, professor. Because I answered your questions." But I didn't, because I'm polite, I like my professor (a lot more after our talk last week), and also I owe him a paper.

Back to the grind, I suppose. I'd really rather be out taking photos right now. It's a spectacular day outside. I know this because I'm pretty sure I'm psychic now, due to slamming insane amounts of Red Bull at high speed.

Forget me, and do it soon.

I have one more thing to do, and then I think I'm done.

The passive bullshit grates my god damn nerves. It'd be excellent if you could just shake the holy fuck out of someone and tell them to grow the fuck up. It'd be even more excellent if I could.

But again. I'm almost done.

Critical mass, here I come.

The greatest lie in history

Is it wrong that I need a stoat in my life? I love my rats, but they're not as cute, or as active, as stoats.

Just a mindless list of things I've accomplished in the last 24 hours:

1. 100% on my HRM test. I made a joke to my professor that if I tanked the test, I'd be changing my major. He looked at me very gravely and said, "That'd probably be best."

2. I got a 100% on my third business exam. Aw yiss. But I'm only doing so well because of my Genius in a Box kit:

3. I'm wearing heels today, and it feels excellent. I haven't worn heels since I broke my toe (I wore them immediately the day after, since I was going to see Danimal and obviously I wanted to make every part of me look as amazing as possible), and because it feels normal, I'm going to run tonight. We'll see if I can go the full three miles, but if I do at least one, I'll feel good about myself.

4. This isn't so much an accomplishment as it is what I'm doing: I've been listening to new music. Danimal recommended a pretty good song to me that I listened to a few times, and then I sort of spiraled from there.

5. I did finish my website the other day, and I'm not terribly sure how I feel about it.

ondreatucci.wix.com/photography

Stevie and I had a long study night last night at VI. I didn't get home until 1:30, and then I made myself a drink and fell asleep watching MST3K.

Tomorrow is registration day for spring. I've been prepared for that for AGES. I have my summer classes picked out as well, and then my fall classes. Then I'll be halfway done! I'm trying to schedule my CLEP test, but my advisor isn't answering my emails. So I'm going to force the issue and go in to speak with him on Tuesday.

My history professor finally got around to giving me my research paper topic, and I'm not terribly excited to write a 20 page paper on the progressive era in Colorado. I'm even less excited about the ten minute oral presentation I have to give on it. Especially since that class is televised.

I have my creativity and alcoholism presentation on Thursday, which I haven't even pretended to start doing yet, but I really need to get a move on, because I have to have an outline and three presentation aids to go along with it. I can't just wing it all the day it's due like I've been doing with all of my other speeches. Damn.

Article review is due in ten days, and I haven't picked one of those out, either. My stock project is coming up, but I've been plugging along on that quite nicely, so I'm not concerned. It's been the easiest ten page paper that I've had so far.

These are the last five weeks of the semester, and then I get a lovely four week break. I'm not excited for Finals week (when it was mid-term time, I realized what a fucking HUGE bite a 20 credit semester is. I'm sure finals week is going to feel just as bad, if not worse. But you know what? I'm fucking doing it again! And again and again and again for the next two years) , but I'm excited for the end of the semester. Mostly because it'll be a week full of eating. Every single class I have is having a potluck on the last day.

Speaking of potlucks, can we just take a minute to go over how excited I am for the Thanksgiving potluck at my office, and then the actual really real Thanksgiving? I wasn't initially going to do anything, and I thought about staying home and sleeping...maybe making some stir-fry (I am ACHING for stir-fry, but I can't find the motivation to make it just for me)...but that plan has changed. Everybody is going to be going over to Allen's parents' house for gorging and boozing. Stevie, Mike, Chris, I asked Tosh and Ryan if they wanted to come, I asked Holly...it's going to be a grand affair. And I'm SO EXCITED. The last Thanksgiving I spent with them, all we did was eat and get wasted all fucking day. It was glorious. It'll be nice to spend a pressure free day with some of the people that matter the most to me. I won't be worried about school or work, I'll just be able to relax. That entire week, as a matter of fact, since I won't be working or going to class. I'm counting down the days.

I think I've dicked about enough. I have a bunch of very small things to do that won't take me terribly long, but I should get them done before I commence fooling around some more.