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.

I'm doing exactly what you wanted, I hope it makes you happy

Yesterday was a crazy, crazy day. I damn near froze myself to fake death last night, and it took FOREVER to warm back up. But I managed. I'm not a popsicle yet! I win this round, November.

I stayed after class and talked to my philosophy professor about god last night. He let us out of class at 7:55 (fifteen minutes early), and I wound up staying for almost an hour after he let class out, just chatting with him. Which made me exceptionally late, but only according to my schedule that insists on being at least ten minutes early. I wound up being right on time, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

My philosophy teacher is a pastor. He has a Masters in theology, and he was asked if he wanted to teach at my school. Clearly he accepted. But I asked him if he got into philosophy because of Jesus (on account of Jesus being a pretty fucking fantastic philosopher, obviously), and he said no, but he loves hearing about what all of our views are.

I asked him what his views on God are, and he said he didn't really want to tell me, because he didn't want to get fired. I told him that not only would I not tell, but class hours were over. So he told me what he believes, why he believes it, and when it all fell into place for him.

He asked me what my story was, so I told him. I told him my struggles with faith, and how ultimately, not being able to thoroughly explain why I believed something to be true just didn't sit well with me, so a firm agnostic I remain. He said that makes a lot of sense, especially for someone like me.

But I came away from the conversation with two things:

1. A new level of appreciation and respect for my professor; and
2. A huge sense of emptiness

The truth is, I miss having faith. I wish I could believe in something that makes no sense to anything other than my heart. I'm starting to become more and more cynical, and I think I know why. Not that it matters. Maybe it's cynical, maybe it's jaded, it might even be bitter. But the more I think about intangible things, the more I doubt that they exist. That maybe I've been going through expected motions for the last decade or so, and none of this is really real.

I struggle with that too, though. There really is a profound sense of emptiness and longing when I mull over the idea of these intangible things just not being present anymore. Perhaps it's not longing...maybe it's disappointment in finally figuring things out, and the reality of everything being the antithesis of how I perceived the world.

Perhaps I'm slowly losing that piece of myself, and maybe it's for the better. Maybe it's making me worse. I really don't know.

Everything intangible is based on faith. If I think faith in god doesn't make sense, then reasonably thinking these other things are real doesn't make sense, either.

My brain was fairly heavy last night. My evening improved drastically, however. I had a great night last night. Today isn't turning out so hot, even though I'm, for all intents and purposes, in a good mood. I just have heavy boots.

Don't think 'cause I understand I care

I've been in a very Sneaker Pimps kind of mood the last few days. I'm listening to 6 Underground right now...just like I have been all morning. I suspect Portishead will be coming up next (after a listen to Spin Spin Sugar and Loretta Youngsilks), but that will have to wait for after class.

Something happened today, and I'm FINALLY building a website because of it. Which is probably going to be disastrous initially. I have to go to school, but I wanted to release some of this excited energy onto my blog. Because I'm an adult, god dammit, and I define what that means.

Take no paper hearts

It turns out I am not above stereotypes. At all.

I spent the morning catching up on my other blogs...I wrote in one, and just read the other. Boner move on my part.

I'm trying to figure out how I want to spend my day. I went to Starbucks this morning, which was lovely. But I didn't bring my camera. I might go back in an hour or so and creep on people, because I have no shame. But I'm also thinking about opening my window, curling up on the couch, and reading the day away.

When I get home tonight, I'm finally going to work on that low-key photograph I've been talking about for months.

I have my long school day tomorrow, but at least in philosophy that involves a movie.

Five more weeks. Cue Europe!

Abandoned, forgotten things

I don't quite know what to say about this.

What I can say for GETTING the picture is I had to create a makeshift tripod, because I didn't bring mine. I wound up using some wood and propping it up in a shopping cart. It stank evilly in there...filth and rot and the heady must of abandonment. I didn't stay long, because it was cold and dark and the birds living in the rafters kept moving about and I felt like I was in a horror movie. There are a few other rooms in there that I'd like to eventually get up the nerve to take pictures of, but I'll need to make myself some kind of net bubble so the spiders and other bugs that were squiggling about en mass can't bother me directly.

There was a dusty pile of spent bullets in the middle of this room, but I didn't see any bullet holes in the windows, or the beams, or anything else. I wonder what was being shot at.

It's kind of awesome to be in buildings that are lonely and forgotten. Particularly when you're in a good mood. Maybe that's strange, but 'm ok with that.

Everybody's gotta learn sometime

I've been cleaning my house, and then I got hungry, so I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Then I started drinking wine, because obviously. And what goes well with wine? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I have written and rewritten all kinds of thoughts in the last twenty minutes, but that one little sober part left in my brain keeps telling me not to put those sorts of things here.

I want to sing now. A lot. Sing and take a bath and maybe dance outside, except it's really cold. The wind is biting, but the sound the leaves are making as they scrape across the ground is wonderful.

I want to go outside and sing and dance, and THEN take a bath. And keep drinking wine. But it's 1:10. I'm nervous about tomorrow, and I suspect the amounts of wine I've had are not going to help matters. Not if I'm hungover, anyway. Maybe I should put this bottle away. I've done it some considerable damage.

I'm going to read this and regret it in the morning.

I wish I could erase things from my brain.