Tagged by Lindsey via NiT

Lindsey tagged me. I can't resist when Lindsey tags me, because she's not an arbitrary tagger. Also, this will help me with last year's resolution to blog more than JR, which I think I've succeeded in doing. We didn't really discuss stakes, but I'm hoping I can get something cool out of being the more frequent blogger.

So, here is the Seven Deadly Meme. OK, I made up the name. Big deal.

Seven Things To Do Before I Die:
1) Dance in the rain
2) Get married and start a family
3) Cruise the Mediterranean
4) Write a book
5) Pay off my credit card
6) Graduate from college
7) Buy my BMW or my Corvette

Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1) Walk and drink hot chocolate at the same time
2) Wake up without an alarm clock
3) Go to bed before 2 a.m.
4) Play a bar game decently (pool, darts)
5) Understand males
6) Drive a stick shift
7) Graduate in December 2006 as planned

Seven Things That Attract Me To...Blogging
1) Writing my thoughts instead of keeping them in
2) Reading the blogs of people I know
3) Comments (the good kind)
4) Having a site meter
5) Realizing people on different continents read my blog
6) Clever post titles
7) Being snarky

Seven Things I Say Most Often
1) Fuck
2) Clearly
3) That's funny - you didn't think of it
4) Expletive
5) I
6) Me
7) Bills

Seven Books That I Love
1) Catch-22
2) GUT Symmetries
3) The Passion
4) Written on the Body
5) Harry Potter
6) The Hours
7) The Tao Is Silent

Seven Movies That I Watch Over and Over Again
1) Kill Bill Vol. 2
2) Star Wars (original trilogy)
3) The Shawshank Redemption
4) Office Space
5) Swingers
6) Top Gun
7) Pirates of the Caribbean

Seven People I Want To Join In Too
Uhhh...no. Lindsey. I tag Lindsey. And anyone else who cares. But mostly Lindsey.

Better Late Than Never

That holds true for periods AND Tolstoy Tuesday, so this is just in response to the latter.

"Untitled"

Nights in black satin
Hiding the present
Running from the past
Avoiding the future
Under the glow
Of a black light
That only illuminates
Disappointment

If you've been keeping up with my blog lately, I'm sure you've noticed the ridiculous comment war that's plagued Tabula Rasa. No, I can't delete it. At least, not from any computer that I'm able to use. Sigh. Just ignore it - I'm sure it'll eventually go away.

Brandy is Awesome had a birthday yesterday! Unfortunately, I missed the party on account of not finding it and my phone hates me. Lovely. I ended up at the SigEp house (imagine that) and had some drinks to celebrate. Just because I wasn't with her on her birthday doesn't mean I can't celebrate it.

Bambi is in town, which is definitely the highlight of my week thus far (though I'm sure keg stands at the party would've ranked right up there had I been there). Tonight we're doing something that involves lots of drinking and ringing in the new year. Should be a night to forget in an alcoholic haze.

Happy New Year to everyone out there, and check out Nashville Is Talking. Lindsey is guest blogging for the weekend.

The Best Virtual Present Ever OR Pardon Me While I Bend over for the Financial Aid Office

So Lindsey did some virtual shopping, and I got a virtual gift! Check out this barista action figure:

Now, what to virtually get Lindsey? This may take some time, but one day, I will post a present.

I got home on Christmas Eve to discover MTSU had sent me a lovely letter stating my financial aid has been suspended.

Well, Merry Christmas to you, too, you sons of bitches. Everyone I know has been all, "They can't do that to you! You were sick! You had surgery!"

Well, they can, and they did.

However, if I had circumstances beyond my control (like, I don't know, having uterine lining lasered off the outside of my uterus), I can appeal it on January 12. If they deny my appeal, I have a whole day - until January 13 - to pay them the minimum balance, which is about $1300. So, if you see me dancing seductively on a street light pole in my new black bra, give me a freakin' tip. It's for a good cause.

The DoD Won't Let Me Be

I take back my disappointed from earlier. It was a good birthday. And a happy 27th anniversary to my parents today!

Mostly I've just been hanging out and working - both important activities.

I missed Tolstoy Tuesday - I'll post that later.

This was my first birthday since joining the Facebook, and I got a slew of wall posts, most of which read something like this: "Get ripped for me;" "Get drunk for me;" "Use a designated driver;" and one "Get laid."

So I figured I HAD to post lest everyone think I died of alocohol poisoning.

Sadly, the DoD thinks my blog is unfit for JR's reading. I'm more than amused by this.

Last night I went to Jim's to BEAT ROBERT AT DARTS! Sorry, if you ever saw me play you'd see how that's a big deal. Granted, he spotted me one on each, but it's still an impressive feat for me. So while we're there some Jackass would not SHUT THE HELL UP. He kept talking and talking and telling shitty jokes about women and I was tempted to throw a dart at him and be all, "Whoops, it slipped. It must be because I have a vagina and therefore can't play darts." He eventually left and restored order to the universe.

It was recently pointed out to me that I have a good situation right now. I'm inclined to agree. This is mainly because, as I said before, I'm label free. It was almost a conversation, but being as though it was a man, almost a conversation is more than enough.

I'm working tonight and tomorrow, and then I'm off Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Woot!

Thanks to those who remembered my birthday. It was swell!

Tonight's agenda: Work (closing), shoot some pool, drink some drinks, see what happens. Always a promising venture.

Age 22: Volume 2

Thanks to my family for calling to wish me a Happy Birthday Eve. How's this for cute: When I was a kid (around 8 I think), it occurred to me that December is full of Eves (Christmas, New Year's), and that because my birthday was in December, it should have an Eve, too. And then it just stuck that December 19 is my Birthday Eve.

Back to the blogging wrap-up.

July
"Fire. Even more amusing when you've been drinking." from You Can't Spell "Stripper" without "Pie"

"Tanya: How do you turn this fan on?
Me: Rub it." from You Can't Spell "Stripper" without "Pie"
Note: It might not have been Tanya who said it, but I can't remember who did. Any of you girls want to help me out here?

"MattAnderson: "You do NOT have mutant powers."
Me: "How do you know? When have you ever seen me not be a mutant?" from Sometimes You're Not in The Mood for Vehicular Homicide

"Wendy is like watching an explosion at a cotton candy factory, at which small children with balloons and baby sheep were having a field trip." Sometimes You're Not in The Mood for Vehicular Homicide

Click here for some revelations on the type of men who are wrong for me: Pimp My Mac

Click here for my reaction to Roberts' appointment: Aftershock

And the blog of the month...
They Don't Make 'em Like That Anymore

August
"It's like the one we just did, but this time they all have the same job: sacrificial victims." from 21 Classmates - 3 Classmates + Sacrifice = Fun!

"These three characters ought to get together sometime and run people off the road." from Revenge of the Stick

Click here for 100 things about me: All The Cool Kids Are Doing It"

Click here for my relationship advice (this applies mostly to males): For Half of My Favorite Cheese

And the blog of the month...
I Didn't Buy Drunken Bitch Insurance

September
Click here for some personal goals/wish list: "It seems like the daylight is coming and no one is watching but me"

And the blog of the month...
The Botched Execution of a Non-Plan OR Our Failed Attempt at Petty Larceny

October
"Wendy: If you were me, what would you do?
Manda: I would ask.
Wendy: OK, if you were me and you didn't ask.
Manda: I would wait in a terrible quagmire of not knowing like you will." from "Have fun in your quagmire"

Click here to see the scary bruise I got at the Catholic school girl party: Why I Should Stop Drinking

And the blog of the month...
But It's a Good Pain

November
Blog of the month:
You Want Me to Put That Where?

December
That's still happening, so I can't decide yet.

Now, I know this is a pressing question for you all: Will I get what I want for my birthday? I want one of two things, and one of them probably won't happen unless the gods smile upon me in the next five hours. Sigh. I suppose there's always next year.

What else do I want? To get on a plane and never come back. That won't happen either, but the wanderlust is starting to get to me. I miss New York.

Age 22: Volume 1

In less than 24 hours it will be my birthday, and the thought of being 23 kind of freaks me out. So walk with me while I take a moment to reflect the past year of my life. I originally planned to do a month-by-month breakdown, but instead, I've picked my favorite blog(s) per month and/or favorite quotations from my blogs. Enjoy revisiting my uncanny wit. Or at least my attempt at it. Here's the first half of my year at 22.

January
"Good news - we've just distinguished between bastard and illegitimate children." from Attention Brainiacs: It's Time to Breed More

"Today I discovered that I cannot walk and drink hot chocolate at the same time. How embarassing." from Matt-Who? No, that's lame.

And the blog of the month...
Aidan Sign My Bra! Oh Shit, Someone Stole It!

February
"I have given her the extremely important responsibility of bringing me back a cheesy souvenir from San Francisco. I'm talking really cheesy, like a box of Rice-A-Roni made to look like a cable car and wrapped in a rainbow-colored gay pride shirt." from "My unrivaled awesomeness!"

"Matt and I ate air freshener.

I only ate it because Nick said, "It says, 'Tastes like candy. Eat all of it at once.'" Matt, however, ate it because he's an idiot." from Mmm...Tangy!

And the blog of the month...
ERICA and Wendy go to Bad Cracker Barrel

March
Blog of the month...
Erica Checked Out My Rack

April
"After work, Thomas, Kristen, and I went to Chili's for food and drinks for Thomas and Me (those of legal age). Wow. I just realized I capitalized the word "me." How incredibly vain. I'd delete it, but it's amusing." from He Might Be British

And the blog of the month...
Excuse Me While I Remove the Stick from Your Ass and Beat You with It

May
"Why the fuck does Krystal have salads? No one ever thinks: 'Gee, I'm really drunk. Let's go to Krysal and get some salads!'" from Perhaps A Salad from Krystal Will Delay The Impending Stroke

"Of course, it came with all the proper warnings to keep me from accidentally suffocating myself in a fit of glee. 'This bag is not a toy.' No shit! I have yet, in my 22 1/2 years of existence (sans womb time), come across a bag that was a toy. Why would I think that this one bag on this bathroom contraption is, in fact, the first bag toy ever?" from This Bag Is Not a Toy...But This Lightsaber Is!

And the blog of the month...
Congratulations on Your Deflowering

June
Check this out for my purposefully bad fanfic for Manda: You've Been Bamboozled!

And the blog of the month...
My Mouth Had An Orgasm; I Had A Panic Attack

Volume 2 will cover July through December.

It recently occurred to me that this has been the most difficult year of my life to date. The things I had to deal with at age 22 were some of the most trying times I've experienced, and I'm happy to say that I made it. I'm OK. I head into the eve of my 23rd birthday with the confidence to know that I am a strong person, despite what I sometimes think, and that my struggles have contributed to that. More on this later...I need to sleep, because, with any luck, once I wake up I'll be up all night.

OK, Enough with the Cryptic

I'm over this cryptic bullshit way to blog without actually blogging lest someone read it and read into it. First off, who reads into my blogs? Me, naturally, but that's just my nature - to read into things and to be overly concerned with myself. Reading into my own blogs just suits me. But that's neither here nor there.

So I like somebody. No shit, right? It's oh-so-obvious. I should add a little background here: I really don't want to like anyone. It's not because I don't think he's a great guy or anything, it's just that in my experience these annoying little emotion things just tend to fuck things up, and I'm not OK with that. I've also had a busy semester and really didn't have time for anyone else. Do I have time now? I don't know. But as Nick said, when it's worth it, you make time. So that's it. Quagmire revealed. At least somewhat.

So what do I want? I don't know. I'm content now. I have some kind of something that I don't label nor do I feel the need to. I like not having expectations. I'm able to enjoy myself without all the relationship bullshit that's so particular if you don't do it just right everything goes to hell. So there's no pressure. Would I oppose more? No. But I'm not going to press it, because it's working for me now. The game plan is to just let it ride.

Wow. It's off my chest now. I feel better already.

Now if I could just cure this damn insomnia.

In other news, Salazar was shedding his skin, which explains why he was being such a pissant. He's better now. I fed him today, so he'll be in rat heaven until Tuesday.

Currently feeling: Optimistic
Currently listening to: Brad Paisley, "Mud on the Tires"

A Question Mark, More Question Than Mark

I love that title, so I wanted to use it, and oh well if it doesn't go with the blog.

Quagmire update: I took care of part of that today, so now I'm no longer hyperextending myself. I feel good about it, too. I've known it was the right thing today for a few weeks, and I know I'll sleep better. And now I'm no longer juggling, and I'm quite content with that. I'm little - there's not that much of me.

Now there's just that other thing...question...mark.

Congrats to all you people who actually graduated today. I envy you.

Rules of Engagement

It just occurred to me that I've been so wrapped up in trying to finish the semester that I forgot to blog about something: Travis is engaged. And not to me.

Pretty much anyone who knew me from the time I was 9 through high school knew who Travis was. So last week I found out he's engaged. Good for him. I'm not that bothered by it because he totally isn't my type anymore. He's not tall enough for one thing. I like my men tall.

But he was my first first love. There are degrees to this: There's the first love, the first love once you were old enough to truly understand love, and then there's the first time you fell in love. The last one is already married, by the way. Again, not to me.

Recently I found a lot of people on facebook who I used to go to church with. That's been weird to say the least. Just as always, their apathy makes me want to beat them with hymn books. But I don't, because attacking church folk just seems wrong.

Travis and I used to be great friends - I've known him my entire life. There are actually pictures of us together when we were both still in diapers. But, like so many friends, we drifted apart, but not until I got these annoying emotions that plagued me for about six years.

During that time, we grew apart. I became a different person, as did he. Clearly, we were wrong for each other - I have no doubt about that now. And, as a wise person once told me, "The right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing."

You know you're getting old when you have a married ex and have dated two divorced men. Naturally, the church people are all married or well on their way. I, however, do not believe that I need a significant other to validate my position in the world.

I can't sleep. When you read the time of this post, I didn't get up early - I'm just up really late.

Travis, of course, prompts another song: "Champagne High" by Sister Hazel.

I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you
And I never thought it would hurt just to hear
"I do" and "I do"
And I do a number on myself
And all that I thought to be
And you'll be the one
That just left me undone
By my own, hesitation

Bridge
and for the million hours that we were
well I'll smile and remember it all
then I'll turn and go
while your story's completed mine is a long way from done.

Chorus
Well I'm on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high
I'd toast to the future but that'd be a lie
On a champagne high, high

Spring turned to summer
But then winter turned to mean
The distance seemed right
At the time it was best - to leave
And to leave behind
What I once thought was fine And so real - to me
And while I'm still gone
On the quest for my song
I'm at your - celebration

Bridge & Chorus

Your wagon's been hitched to a star
Well now he'll be your thing that's new
Yeah what little I have you can borrow
'Cause I'm old and I'm blue...

Bridge

Well I'm on a champagne high (so high)
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high (so high)
Toast to the future but that'd be a lie
On a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high...high...
So high so high you left me undone
so high, so high you left me undone...

"Whatever You Do Today, You'll Have to Sleep with Tonight"

I think I can sleep with what I've done, and I feel good about what I'm about to do.

Shit. I just figured something out. I just realized why something might have happened, and I violently dislike it. Shitdamnhellfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. OK, I might be better now.

After formal last night, I had some fun on the Party Bus. There were stripper poles! And I made $6 in tips that night from the girls and their dates. Just for dancing on the pole. Bink's boyfriend even asked her if I was a stipper because "She's got stripper moves from hell." So, I think that's a compliment? I'm going to take it that way. Also, on the bus, Bobby pinned Tanya (in a fraternity way, not in a sex way), so I'm really glad everyone insisted that I go, because I would've hated to have missed that.

My doctor's going to be mad at me for my shenanigans last night. But it was so worth it. And I just won't tell him.

Anyway, the after party kicked some serious ass, so thanks to the girls for insisting I go instead of just drinking at the SigEp house, and thanks to Robert for letting me drag him along.

I have Saturday off! I'm so excited and have no idea what to do with myself, but you can count on me sleeping until at least 2 and most likely 3.

I've discovered a lot about myself since, at the risk of sounding melodramatic, a good part of my world caved in, and that is that I can't be left alone with my thoughts for days on end. I get far too pensive, and I just wish I could turn my brain off sometimes. Then again, I'm sure I'd miss the overanalyzing and freaking out over stupid shit.

Maybe not.

I think I'm going to go for a drive in a bit. That seems to be the best way to handle it when I've got too much on my mind. I got more grades today, and while I'm excited that I got a W when I thought I was getting an F, I also got an F where I was supposed to get a W. So, yeah, all that walking across campus to bring my form to the withdrawal office after having it signed by the head of the department on a day I cried the whole way to school because I was in so much pain was all for naught. Motherfucker.

So, yeah, shitty grades but mostly incompletes for me this semester. And I'll graduate in December 2007 most likely now. Yikes. And that's only my school problems - I don't even want to go there with my other problems, especially the aforementioned quagmire that gives rise to interpretations that vary from really good to sub-par. The solution, of course, is to stop interpreting. I can sleep with that.

And now, the much anticipated song of the day: "Mr. Brightside" by the Killers.

I'm coming out of my cage
And I’ve been doing just fine
Gotta gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss
Now I’m falling asleep
And she’s calling a cab
While he’s having a smoke
And she’s taking a drag
Now they’re going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it’s all in my head
But she’s touching his—chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, let me go

I just can’t look its killing me
And taking control
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it’s just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
‘Cause I’m Mr Brightside

I’m coming out of my cage
And I’ve been doing just fine
Gotta gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss
Now I’m falling asleep
And she’s calling a cab
While he’s having a smoke
And she’s taking a drag
Now they’re going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it’s all in my head
But she’s touching his—chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, let me go

I just can’t look its killing me
And taking control
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibi
But it’s just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
‘Cause I’m Mr Brightside

I never...
I never...
I never...

Creative Juice Overflow

I made the right decision about my final: My professor gave me a W. Woot!

I found some writing I did this summer. I'm hoping to have a book someday, so these fragments may coalesce at some point. I favor the stream-of-consciousness approach paired with dialogue, so that's the style, for the most part. Most of this would be the narration, should I actually follow this through. I've left it alone for a while - the random bursts of creativity don't come as often as they used to. I think I've just been preoccupied with everything else. These are in no particular order and are unedited (read very rough draft).

*******************

Me: Summer has always been my favorite time of year.
You: Why?
Me:It’s always hot.
You:It isn’t always hot.
Me: It’s humid enough to feel hot. I’ve never cared for the cold.
You: I don’t mind it. What else have you never cared for?

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t. I sipped the coconut concoction you’d made earlier in the afternoon.

You: Something’s missing.
Me: A little paper umbrella?
You: Yes, and a cherry skewered by a small plastic sword.

Fitting that you would say that.

Me: There are no more cherries.

But we have an abundance of swords.

*******************

I had been training my brain to think in those terms for as long as I can remember. Even in high school, it took me a while to warm up to the notion of infinity. Negative infinity was worse. I suppose this way of viewing the world in absolutes contributed in some fashion to my skepticism of love. Only numbers are forever, and perhaps the universe - at least as far as we're concerned. I'm not sure we could handle it if the universe were finite. Besides, Descartes was usually my companion. Dead, he was better company than most men.

*******************

I tell you "I love you" and it fits. It is as if you've been waiting your whole life for it, and perhaps you have. You seem to think it means something great, as though nothing will ever go wrong again. Perhaps it won't, but I have my doubts. I'm not even certain I know what it means. My experience has taught me that what I think is love now may not be my definition of love in a year. I don't change my mind, but my heart acts on its own accord.

I used to walk outside in the dark because I could. I used to lie on my back and stare at the sky and wonder all sorts of ridiculous things. How big is it? Does it go on forever? Or does it eventually stop, and if it does, is God on the other side? And if I could just get close enough, could I touch a star? I imagine I'd only burn myself. Anything worth touching has the capacity to burn.

*******************

The bills were cheaper this month. So was the talk. Sometimes I think I should have my own language. I imagine that's a child's game. It seems perfectly sensible to me. The English vocabulary frustrates me to no end. When was the last time you were completely satisfied with a word?

*******************

I prefer the dark, as my pale complexion indicates. In the dark, I'm alert. When it's dark, I can make better use of my time. Sunshine can be an awful distraction in July. My eyes are dark. it's much easier for them to adjust to darkness.

There's a certain famililarity with darkness. Also a certain uncertainty. In daylight there are no surprises, but in the dark, something could always happen.

*******************

Somewhere along the line people lost the notion - and value - of one. We moved from being people to being almost complete. The concept of "better half" became far too literal, and men and women alike scrambled to find the rest of themselves hidden in a member of the opposite sex. I'm sure Jerry Maguire wasn't the first to utter "You complete me."

He didn't complete me. I was complete before him, and I was no less of a person in his absence. It would be more accurate to say he complemented me. We were good on our own, like vodka and orange juice, but together, we were much more effective. He was intoxicating, and I'm sure he'd say I was good with breakfast.

*******************

I think that's a good stopping point.

"Billie Jean Is Not My Lover"

I left myself logged in to MySpace tonight while making potatoes. Check out what Tina did to my space! Beware of messages from me between 1:20 a.m. and 1:50 a.m.

Today was terrible. I woke up...wait - that's a lie! I didn't even wake up. I did, however, toss and turn in bed until 6:07 a.m., when my alarm went off. OK, moving on, I got out of bed with severe pain. I guess it's from the surgery. I cried all the way to school and was more than annoyed when the doctor's office put me on hold. I'm supposed to call back if it's still there in a day. He said it might just be healing. Let's hope so.

After much debate, I've decided not to go to my final in three hours. Here is why:

1) I'm so over trying to track down this damn professor to find out what to do about class. I'm equally over his unwillingness to cut me a break. Granted, I'm not asking for a handout here. I just wanted to get an incomplete or, I don't know, maybe to just KNOW what assignments I'd missed so I could do them. But apparently that's asking too much.

2) I can't pass it. There are assignments that I need to do, and although I asked what they were, all I was told was that they were from the book. However, it's a TEXTBOOK - it's full of assignments. What am I supposed to do - finish everything in the damn book in hopes that some of them will be the ones he assigned? He also said that I wouldn't have time to finish them by Wednesday, so clearly, I'm fucked. These things are 30 percent of the grade.

3) Which leads me to my next point: It is mathetmatically impossible for me to pass. Why, then, should I sleep for two hours and torture myself for four (final and make-up test) if it's all for naught anyway? I'm afraid this seems like I'm giving up, and in a way I am, but I'm only giving up because it's impossible, not improbable.
(Side note: The head of the math department signed off of my drop form today, so thanks to her and my adviser for understanding and not failing me)

So I've decided not to go. I think it's the best decision. And if tomorrow morning is anything like this morning was, I'll be on my way to the see the doctor anyway.

I'm going back to work Wednesday, something that weirds me out a little. I've been gone a week and a half (unpaid, of course), so getting into the swing of things will be...traumatic at best. I'm kidding. I'm sure it'll be a blast.

Dear lord I want a drink. Any takers? The more you drink, the better I look! And the more I drink, the better you look. Isn't it neat how that works?

Oh, yeah, the title: The song is stuck in my head - it has no relevance to the blog. Although I did enjoy the last time I heard it. Do you know what happened? Well, one of you does, and the rest of you can just suss it out on your own.

Currently feeling: Relieved that I've made a decision and worried that it will come back to bite me in the ass

This Ain't No Anna Karenina, But I Guess It'll Do

OK, I'm going to try something new, or at least something new to me.

Amber, Lindsey, and Cox are into this Tolstoy Tuesday thing. From what I've gathered, it's poetry blogging on Tuesdays. This excites me. Perhaps it's my Lindsey Complex, or my constant quest to be a mindless sheep (that was my sarcastic typing), but I think it's just that I like the idea, and reading Amber's blog made me realize how much better life was just having her witty comments in the background. So, without further ado, my Tolstoy Tuesday virginity is being torn away like a cheap thong. Amber, this one's for you, though I'm sure it won't compare to yours.

"Finals Week"

Showing up in pajamas
after a sleepless night;
punching numbers on my calculator.
Somehow I don't think
a drawing of a crossbow
was the answer to number 19.

This One Is Worth Reading

OK, I caved and decided to actually post. I'm in a lot of pain today. I was trying to make it without painkillers because I know I won't be able to take them tomorrow, but I had to take one. Now I'm starting to get a migraine, and I've been out of migraine medicine a while because I'm too poor to refill my prescription, so that's not good.

I have a make-up test tomorrow in a class that I've already been told will be nearly impossible for me to pass due to all this bullshit. Here's the kicker: This class is a prerequisite for pretty much everything else in my major. If I don't get the credit now, I'll have to wait until NEXT FALL (when I had planned to graduate) to take it. Ergo, all of my scheduling shifts a CALENDAR YEAR, and now I'm probably looking at a December 2007 graduation date, which means I will have been in college SIX AND A HALF YEARS! Naturally, I'm sure I'll go insane by then and have to be carried away in a little white coat. WHY DOES MY LIFE HAVE TO SUCK LIKE THIS?! I'm very depressed about it, although I've done a semi-decent job of hiding it. But every time I start to think about it, it makes me so mad and sad and frustrated that I don't even know what to feel. Thanks to the MTSU Math Department, and especially to my professor, for fucking me so hard. I like it hard. And shame on them, because I'm not supposed to do that until December 20 - doctor's orders due to the surgery.

At least my sense of humor is relatively intact.

Moving on, I'm in a terrible quagmire of not knowing, as Manda would say. And I'm far too into myself to think of asking, although it's not so much a matter of being into myself as a) avoiding hearing bad things and b) thinking I'm too cool for that. So, yeah, quagmire. Nice.

Things are tolerable now, but I'm sure it'll all blow up in my face in some dramatic and violent fashion if I don't do something soon. And here's the kicker, to quote Jeanette Winterson: "What you risk reveals what you value." So clearly I value it too much to risk it, although I'm not even sure what "it" is or even if there is an "it" in question, for that matter. I think I also avoid asking because whatever is going on is working for me, and I'm pretty much content with whatever. If things remain as they are, I would be OK with that. If something progressed, I could handle that, too.

Is this vague enough for you readers? I mean, I'm happy to elaborate if you ask, but some things I don't want to share with the whole Internet, only my close circle of people who know me.

I'm really tired of fighting this wave of emotion I can't seem to escape. The health issues, the school issues that came from the health issues, my financial aid (chalk that up to health issues, too), my aunt's marital problems (nope, not related to my health), my own personal quagmire, the job I'm not sure I'll still have much longer - it's all coming together in a terrible way, and, just as things come together, things also fall apart, and I can see it starting.

Part of me just wants to let it collapse. It just seems like it's all out of my hands now anyway, and there's no point in trying to fight it. I should just accept that I'm a failure. This whole college thing - maybe it's just not the right time for me. Maybe I should take some time off - I've debated it. There are a few things that keep me going when I want to quit: 1) I don't want to disappoint my family; 2) I don't want to disappoint myself (anymore, that is - I excel at disappointing myself; 3) I don't want to disappoint the sorority. At the end of the day, it's nice to have a group of girls who are my family here, and I'd do anything for any of them, and they've already shown they'd do the same for me.

It recently occurred to me that I've spent a good deal of my life dealing with situations I never thought I'd find myself in. I suppose I should say that makes me strong or something, but, really, it's just worn me down, made me hard, made me something I don't like.

Don't get me wrong - I have my moments. Many times I fully enjoy being me. Sometimes I can just let go, put everything else aside, cram too many people into Tina's bed and watch porn on Robert's laptop, then stay up until 6:30 a.m. watching Top Gun, wake up at 4 p.m., and eat chocolate for breakfast in bed. Incredible.

But not every day starts with Hershey's King Size, and I've found that it's getting harder and harder for me to find the good times. I'm tired of fighting. It didn't help at all with the class I need. It might not help with my financial aid. And I'd like to think I'm worth fighting for, but I've clearly shown that I'm not.

It's not that I think I'm a bad person...I'm just not as good as I could be, or as I used to be.

The point of all this: I could really use a friend right now...or two...or seven. It seems that the older I get, the farther away the people I'm closest to get. Leslie's in Kansas, JR's on another continent, my other high school friends are scattered about the country, and my core college group has started the great disperse as well. This isn't to say that my friends here aren't great, because they are. I'm definitely blessed in that respect. But it's the people who not only know WHO I am but know WHY I am who I am that I'm missing. Leslie's been my best friend since fourth grade - it's hard to compete with that.

It doesn't help that my entire extended family is wrapped up in what is likely to end in divorce for my aunt, which is sad in many ways and is also something we don't know how to deal with - there is no divorce on my mom's side of the family. It's disheartening, as it always is, to realize that sometimes love isn't enough. I feel bad that I haven't cried for her yet, but I need to cry for me, first, and I'll do that as soon as I have the time.

What I need (and want) right now is for someone to hold me, let me cry, lie to me and tell me everything is going to be OK, and that I'll be OK, too. I guess that's the difference in being loved and feeling loved. I know that I'm loved, and I don't like to think of myself as someone who ever needs anything, especially to be taken care of, but it is nice to break down and have someone hold you up. That actually happened to me a few weeks ago, and it was definitely reassuring.

I apologize for the length of this post - I just started, and it all came out. It needed to. For those out there who care (and I know you do, or you wouldn't have made it this far), some words of reassurance or encouragement will go a long way.

Currently feeling: Far too introspective for my own good
Currently listening to: Deafening silence

Potent Quotables

This was inspired by Amy.

Instead of actually posting, this will just be an homage to the brilliant comedians who make me laugh in hopes that they, too, will make you laugh.

From Mitch Hedberg

"I hate dreaming because when you want to sleep, you want to sleep. Dreaming is work. Next thing you know, I have to build a go cart with my ex-landlord."

"I want to get a job as someone who names kitchen appliances. Toaster, refrigerator, blender....all you do is say what the shit does, and add 'er.' I wanna work for the Kitchen Appliance Naming Institute. Hey, what does that do? It keeps shit fresh. Well that's a fresher....I'm going on break."

"You know that Pepperidge Farm bread, that stuff is fancy. That stuff is wrapped twice. You open it, and then still ain't open. That's why I don't buy it, I don't need another step between me and toast."

"I would imagine if you could understand Morse Code, a tap dancer would drive you crazy."

"A minibar is a machine that makes everything expensive. When I take something out of the minibar, I always fathom that I'll go and replace it before they check it off, but they make that stuff impossible to replace. I go to the store and ask, 'Do you have coke in a glass harmonica? ...Do you have individually wrapped cashews?'"

"Someone handed me a picture and said, 'This is a picture of me when I was younger.' Every picture of you is when you were younger. '...Here's a picture of me when I'm older.' Where'd you get that camera man?"

"I want to be a race car passenger: just a guy who bugs the driver. 'Say man, can I turn on the radio? You should slow down. Why do we gotta keep going in circles? Can I put my feet out the window? Man, you really like Tide...'"

"I wrote a letter to my dad - I wrote, 'I really enjoy being here,' but I accidentally wrote rarely instead of really. But I still wanted to use it so i crossed it out and wrote, 'I rarely drive steamboats, dad - there's a lot of shit you don't know about me. Quit trying to act like I'm a steamboat operator.' This letter took a harsh turn right away..."

"I don't own a cell phone or a pager. I just hang around everyone I know, all the time. If someone needs to get ahold of me they just say, 'Mitch,' and I say, 'what' and turn my head slightly..."

"Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. Goddamn it Otto, you are an alcoholic. Goddamn it Otto, you have Lupis... one of those two doesn't sound right."

"An escalator can never break. It can only become stairs. You would never see an 'Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order' sign, just 'Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience.'"

"Every time I go and shave, I assume there is somebody else on the planet shaving as well, so I say, 'I'm gonna go shave too.'"

"I wish I could play little league now. I'd be way better than before."

"You know they call corn-on-the-cob, 'corn-on-the-cob,' but that's how it comes out of the ground. They should just call it corn, and every other type of corn, corn-off-the-cob. It's not like if someone cut off my arm they would call it 'Mitch,' and then re-attached it, and call it 'Mitch-all-together.'"

"I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that."

"The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how good I get, I'll never be as good as a wall."

"My friend asked me if I wanted a frozen banana, I said 'No, but I want a regular banana later, so, Yeah.'"

From George Carlin

"Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that."

"Ever notice that anyone going slower than you is an idiot, but anyone going faster is an idiot?"

"Isn't it a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do 'practice?'"

"Ah, to be a bird. To fly the skies, sing my song, and occasionally peck someone's eye out."

"A crumb is a great thing: If you break a crumb in half you don't get two half-crumbs. Doesn't that violate some law of physics?"

"Commercials use sex to sell things. Why can't they use violence and bad language? Not all families are as 'functional' as the ones they show you onTV.
Mom: Eat your fuckin' cornflacks, ya cocksuker!
Son: Fuck you Ma.
Mom: Why you little creep!
SLAM! SMACK! POW!
Dad: Here son try this. It's new from Kelloggs.
Son: Holy shit, raisins!
Mom: Hey asshole! What're ya tryin' to do, spoil the kid?
Dad: Listen cunt, I'm tired of your meddlin'!
BLAM! POW! CRACK!
Son: Hey Dad, after you get finished punchin' Mom, gimme some more of that shit with the raisins it it, will ya?"

"What's all this stuff about motivation? I say, if you need motivation, you probably need more than motivation. You probably need chemical intervention or brain surgery. Actually, if you ask me, this country could do with a little less motivation. The people who are causing all the trouble seem highly motivated to me. "

That seems good enough for now.
Currently feeling: Way too tired to have slept until 4 p.m.
Currently listening to: Dane Cook's "The Nothing Fight"

Sloth: The Best Deadly Sin

Everyone around me is moving, and yet I'm standing still, mainly because I'm still sore from this surgery thing.

Fern called me yesterday. It wasn't the kind of call to ask how I was like my boss did. It was more, "Do you have a key to the building?" Yes, but it's not a Sidelines key - I got it from the office that makes keys on campus. "We're having some people here over the weekend." Well, that's swell. I just had a laser in close proximity to my uterus, so I don't really care who you're having over. I'll be back sometime this weekend, but I can't drive until I'm off painkillers. Thanks for playing interrupt my day of rest!

Cox is in DC, hopefully getting a kick-ass job and convincing Sonny to come back with him. I'm not so sure the latter will happen, but I can dream, right?

JR is preparing for civilian life, something he used to be really good at, and I have no doubt he'll be back to hitting on barely-legals in no time. Oh, JR, how you always make my life more interesting in fun - you know I love you.

Brandonian is in Memphis doing some job searching. He can fix anything, so I'm sure he'll have a job. If not, when I'm rich, I'll hire him to handle my personal computer problems and teach me cool photoshopping tricks. Woot!

Lindsey is...still Lindsey. But she commented on my blog and that made me happy!

The Sidelines kids are having a party thing tonight, but I can't go, because of being bedridden. That sucks. I'm going to miss the hell out of those people.

Last night I watched The Interpreter, and I was once again reminded of why I love Nicole Kidman so damned much.

Here are some cool things I've done to pass the time while I've been in bed:
1) I've been able to catch up on Pardon the Interruption, which is quite possibly my favorite show - definitely my favorite non-series show.
2) I've done a lot of crossword puzzles and things of that nature. I'm really good at knowing a three-letter word for "viper" (it's asp).
3) I've eaten a lot and had tons of Gatorade - just like the pros! Yep, I'm fully hydrated now.
4) I've watched lots of movies and Dead Like Me. I'm definitely embracing the "sloth" deadly sin.
5) I get to catch up on all the blogs from my dear friends scattered across the world.
6) I've been frantically trying to reach my professors, as I've been trying to do for a month or so. This is very frustrating and will most likely make me cry at some point.
7) I've balanced my checkbook and realized I'm at least still $300 short for bills this month, and that doesn't even include buying anyone anything for Christmas. This has already made me cry.
8) I've worried about my aunt and cousins. She and my uncle told them last night that they were having problems. It kind of makes me sick to my stomach, thinking of my aunt and those girls having to go through that.
9) I'm blogging from bed. How cool is that?

Finally, it's my uncle's birthday today. So, in honor of that, here's a poem (I wrote it myself):

Here's to a happy birthday
Today's your special day
Sign here, and here, initial here
Go on your merry way

You won't need these - they're just your keys
There's no need to come in
You don't live here anymore
A hotel's where you've been

We've packed an overnight bag
And we'll ship your mom your shit
And while you're exiting the house
Don't let the doorknob hit

Sharks with "Lasers" Minus the Sharks

So I had the surgery, and it was successful. My doctor found some endometriosis behind my uterus, so he lasered it off. Yes, it feels like I've been lasered, but I have many good painkillers so that I don't realize what's happened.

Now I'm bored, lying in my parents' bed, on this freaking dial-up connection, and I think it's quite possible my brain will explode if I do one more crossword puzzle.

My family's been calling a lot to check on me - awww. And thanks to the Sidelines kids for the lovely message you left me from the office - it made me smile:) Ahh! I used an emoticon - I must be on drugs.

In other news, there's trouble in paradise for the extended family. My aunt and uncle are having some problems, and he left the other night to stay in a hotel. My dad has lovingly renamed him "The Rat Bastard." They have two kids - ages 7 and 3 - and the 7-year-old can tell something is up. Sigh. I don't know what to do/feel about this - I was in their wedding!

Number of classes I won't be able to finish this semester: two definitely, three still up in the air, and one I'm going to have to bust my ass to do well on the final, but I think I can pass that one. Woot! Now it's time to call campus and harass these people who won't respond to my e-mails. I mean, my financial aid is on the line here - I'm not just e-mailing for the hell of it.

I'm supposed to recover in about a week or so, but I may try to go to the Titans game Sunday - I mean, if Drew Bennett knew I'd had surgery, I'm sure he's sign some shit for me! I can't have sex for two weeks - which happens to fall on my birthday! Happy Birthday to me!

Currently feeling: Like I've been sliced open and lasered
Currently listening to: Myself typing

Telegram to Misery: Company Says Fuck Off

Well, today I woke up in much pain. That wasn't fun for me. Now I'm hoping it goes away - it's fading a bit.

My mom is coming tomorrow and Tuesday for my pre-op and surgery. Yay mom! It's good to have people around who care.

Random nice thing that makes me smile: Being told, in the middle of a complete mental breakdown, that I'm a good person. It restores my faith in myself.

I've been letting myself down a lot lately. I have theories as to why, but most of them involve me being over-analytical and over-critical of myself. There's nothing wrong with me (other than the health stuff, maybe), so why do I think everything bad is my fault? And why can't I just accept and love myself for who I am? Sometimes I can, but it depends. Why do I let it be conditional?

Because of all this crap that's been fucking with my head lately, I've been terrible company. Insert regret here. I try not to regret things, but I don't know what else to do. I imagine feeling sorry for myself isn't the way to go, but I have a few good things going in an otherwise fucked-up existence, and I'd like to keep those intact, and I'm afraid I'm on track to letting it all go to hell.

So now what do I do? Damage control? I'm not even sure if there is any damage to control. Perhaps I should stop being such a pessimistic bitch and try to enjoy my last two surgery-free days. Yes, that sounds like a better plan.

I talked to my dad the other day, and he made me feel a lot better by saying I shouldn't worry about this semester because it was out of my control. He's right. I knew it, but it helps to hear someone else say it.

I should probably stop being so preoccupied with what I should do and just do what I want to do. That is my mantra, after all. I'm done waiting for my life to just happen to me - I'd rather just go out and live it. Will I take my own advice? I hope so, but I know me too well to think that I won't worry about it. Why can't I stop worrying about stupid shit? It's because I care - I know that - but that's about all I know.

Naturally, I've opted to do the girl thing and overdose on chocolate - I made a chocolate mousse pie with Oreo crust, and I'm not going to be satisfied until I polish it off completely.

And now, because I'm over my bad mood funk, I'm going to list a few things I like about being me, just, if for no other reason, than to cheer me up, because I'm determined to go back to being in a normal mood instead of being the pensive bitch from hell.

1) I have a surprisingly normal and healthy relationship with my parents and sister.

2) Lots of people love me. I know this because people are actually concerned when they hear of my health shit and all that. And I bet even more people think I have a great personality.

3) I'm smart. I did way better at drunken Trivial Pursuit than I should have.

4) Some people find me attractive, and I'm OK with that.

5) I'm able to eat whatever I want and maintain a ridiculously good figure. This is, of course, unfair by all laws of nature, but I love it. I mean, I've never even eaten a salad...ever!

6) Most of the time, it's pretty fuckin' spectacular to be me, if for no other reason than I surround mysef with some pretty fuckin' spectacular people.

The Icing on the Cake

I saw the Devil, too. How perfect.