Bear Bared

I got my hair retrimmed. And I'm not sure how I feel about it this time. It's more square. I'll give it a week or two to grow on me (ha!), and maybe I'll get my hair cut next time I'm home. The woman I go to there is insanely good and only costs $35, as opposed to the $50 this haircut cost me.

In more exciting news, CW discovered, and more importantly passed on to me, the link to a Bear Grylls blog!! He is of Man Vs. Wild fame and is very hot. Even better, the blog is linked to a photo gallery of some very nice shots. Both SB and CW's boyfriend are a bit jealous of our love for Bear. I'm sorry. He's hot, he's in amazing shape, he knows how to get out of any situation alive, and does crazy stunts for charity. I'm not saying I'd want to marry the guy, partly because he's already married and partly because I wouldn't want to worry that much about my husband while he's jumping into freezing waters and floating on small rafts above shark-infested waters. But I wouldn't turn down a date with him, either.

I'm also trying to decide on whether or not to take a lease. See, the house is very cute, my roommate seems very nice, the location is ideal, and Cassie would have a pug to play with. The rent is reasonable for around here (although SB was nice enough to point out that you are paying more for the ideal location), though a little higher than what I'd like to spend. Actually, I'd like to spend much, much less, but I have this crazy idea where I don't want to live in fear of random muggings or shootings. And I don't want to expose Cassie to potential crack dealers. She is at an impressionable age, you know.

The negatives would be that the house is pretty small, including what would be my room, and there is a shared bathroom. And I have a lot of stuff, mainly clothes and a few pictures/paintings. Plus, the pug goes outside, which means that I probably should start giving Cassie heartworm medicine. And it's hard to tell how well you'd get along with someone from just a brief moment.

But I did like her and the house is cozy and there is the storage shed out back. I just don't know. I hate making decisions like this. I feel like if I say yes, and if she wants me to live there (it's a delicate dance), it's monumental. Sigh. This is why I need a real magic 8 ball...

One More Time for Junk!

Just to keep Home Improvement Ninja happy, there is now a new Catholic boy in the world. Let the gun-burying begin.

Clearly it's been a while since an update. Reasons? Getting ready for big event, big event, exhaustion, illness, no internet due to staying home due to illness... It all takes up a lot of time. The fever dreams are exciting though. Strangely vivid.

Anyways, last night, SB and I were watching So You Think You Can Dance?, at least until Last Comic Standing came on and SB made me change. (Not really mad. It's actually pretty funny. There currently is a guy literally dressed up like an ape. It's his whole shtick.) Watching the bizarre dances made me think of the wonderful time in high school when Haley and I made up a dance. Or rather a "dance." It was strange. Very strange. We spent weeks on it, working during breaks in choir. I can't remember much of it, just a few turns, a jump or two, and that it was very staccato. We only performed it once, for our friends, who stared at us in disbelief and confusion while we fell on the floor laughing.

This made me feel a bit nostalgic and I went to find the picture of us from it. I never found it, but did enjoy looking through the one scrap book I'd made and the one photo album one of my best friends made me. The pictures reminded me of one or two things.

First, and a bit redundantly given the dance story. I was/am quite strange. Not in a freak you out sort of way, but what I like to think of as a refreshingly unexpected and entertaining way. Not only was there the dance, there was also the cookie story (It looks like a cookie, it smells like a cookie, it TASTES like a cookie... IT'S A MUFFIN!!!) which Haley and I would randomly repeat. There were the strange pictures of the Gang of Four, the most innocuous high school gang (originally group) EVER. I mean, seriously. Four white, upper middle class, honor roll students who had known each other since elementary school. There were several pool pictures that I know took hours to set up. There was the picture where I "accidentally" dropped Julie on the floor during set-up. There was my and Emily's favorite joke ("Ask me if I'm a truck..." "Are you a truck?""...no...")<-- it grows on you. I haven't been quite that weird since high school, I'd say. So I'm making it my goal to find people who allow/make me be that weird. Because let's face it. It was a lot of fun.

Also, looking at the pictures, for all my self-esteem issues, I was freaking adorable. So I stick my tongue out at all my crushes who never got up the courage to ask me out. Nerds...

Stepping over the brink

So the whole office officially knows that I'm leaving. Our president made some wisecrack about how a BA in English didn't really add up to much for me. Whatever. My old supervisor who is now just a coworker was really happy for me. He's been funny about it. I think he's the most genuinely happy for me of the whole office. Not that the others aren't, but they all have reasons for wanting me to stay. Whereas this guy, I think, has felt like I should leave for a while. And I heard from the school that they received my deposit and intent to attend, so I'm all formalized there. I just have to get all my medical ducks in a row. My whole family was a little worried about that, as the form claimed the school needed to know by May 1. I had talked to the department and they seemed completely okay with me waiting to decide, and I figured it was all a bit of a scare tactic, but my mom in particular freaked out. All nagging without nagging. Now if I could just find a place... I know I'm still forever out, but as of today I have let my apartment know that I'll be leaving. They want a ridiculous 2 months notice, so... And Cassie is making it so much harder. I tell her that frequently. I do always follow it with a "but I love you, so it's okay," but still. Stupid people and their biases against/allergies to cats.

And Catholic couple should just about be Catholic parents by now. She was supposed to be induced today. So, either there is a new Catholic baby out there, or there will be any moment now. SB, who went home for the race (sigh), saw them on Tuesday and said she was huge. He also informed me that she was already starting to dilate, which was something that a. I didn't need to know and b. I'm not sure if I want him to know either. Anyways, I wish them much joy and her an easy delivery.

Neither Asian or Blond

I have become a compulsive Craigslist watcher, mainly the housing section. Though I do dream of being a missed connection. I have decided that for that to happen, I need to either become Asian or blond. Since blond seems more likely... but then I'd look strange. I'm not a natural blond and it shows.

So I told my supervisor at work today that I'd be leaving in August. He was very nice about it all. Though he did make fun of me for not wanting to tell our President. I believe he called me a chicken. Which I will freely own up to. Just paint me yellow and stick some feathers on me.

I had a rather relaxing weekend that was and wasn't. For one, I really didn't eat much on Saturday, primarily because of my weaving class. I went to the regular class and stayed late to finish warping my loom for my individual project. By late, I mean basically the entire afternoon. and then Saturday and Sunday night, I went into mad weaving overdrive and actually finished my whole scarf. Now I'm planning on going on Thursday, rewarping, and weaving a present for someone. It shall be glorious.

Political ranting

Yay! The local wine store I emailed about the Noche wine is getting it in early June. That makes me very happy. Now I don't have to plan a trip to the winery if I don't want to, or pay the ridiculous shipping charges. Not that I blame the winery for that one. I know they have to pay what the various companies charge them.

So I made the mistake of reading the comments on a Newsweek article on Bill and Hillary Clinton. The article was on whether or not Bill would help or hurt Hillary's campaign. The comments were just ridiculous. I'm not saying that I expect these comments to be erudite, but come on. All, "We shouldn't vote for a woman weak enough to stay with her husband after what he did," and "The Clintons are lying liars who lie and stuff," and "If Hillary wins, it will be the end of civilization and American values!" I'm not saying that people who disagree with me (or with whom I disagree) are dumb; everyone is entitled to their opinions. But people, if you are going to say something crazy, at least back it up with something vaguely resembling reasoning. Tell me what policies Hillary would institute that could have a negative impact upon civilization. And would someone please define American values? Because what I would consider American values (freedom, the belief that everyone can succeed with enough effort, not bombing the shit out of countries for stupid reasons) have pretty well been trampled by this administration. And yet the people who are screaming about American values also seem to be the ones who tell me that not supporting the administration is equal to support terrorism.

Oh, and this is another thing. I know they have defined it as "the war on terror" and people are "weak on terror," etc. I hate that. Terror is an emotion. Terrorists are people, terrorism is an act. Terror is an emotion. Now, I'd say that you could wage a war on terror, mainly by trying to get people not to be afraid. Take Back the Night, I would say, is waging a war on terror. Blowing people up to supposedly stop terrorism? Not waging a war on terror. And how can you be weak on terror? Does that mean you don't get scared enough? I know, I know. Crazy English major arguing semantics. But these things matter, whether or not you believe they do.

Huzzah for wine!

I adore the Mount Vernon wine festival. SB and I went on Sunday and it was just SO lovely. Much better this time than the last time we went. Last time, we went to the one in October. We had tickets for the Friday, we were running late, got stuck in traffic, it was cold, dark, raining, we didn't have enough time to sample all the wines... This time, we had a leisurely late lunch (after my audition) at Cracker Barrel, then drove over and got there right about the time they were opening the gates.

And I fell madly in love while there. With a wine. This wine is AMAZING. It is infused with chocolate. A wine. And chocolate. Mated to create a beautiful dessert wine that is like a good truffle dipped in love. It's Noche from Coopers Vineyard (a VA winery). Sadly, they SOLD out before SB and I bought our bottles. Stupid trying to be practical. Now I'm trying to figure out how best to get my hands on this wine. Because, see, I could order it online, but then I have to pay $6 per bottle for shipping. And that's just wrong. I don't think anyone sells it around here (if you know, please tell me!), and that basically only leaves driving to the vineyard. which is a possibility, but will take time and I want my wine now.

But yes. It was an absolutely lovely night with gorgeous weather. We sat out on the hill, looking at the water, drinking wine, and listening to the band play music, except when "George and Martha Washington" were leading people in cheers. "Huzzah!"

You Wanna Play Capture the Flag?

Someone got here by googling "my bf's hot daddy." This search disturbs me. First of all, what does bf stand for? Boyfriend or best friend? Either way, it's just wrong. I keep trying to find some way in my head to make it not wrong, but it still is.

Also, Roosh V has a blog today about how men should try and get flags, rather than notches. Ie, they should try and sleep more with people from different countries to prove their universal sexiness, rather than just trying to sleep with the most people in general. I've said before, a good portion of his blog is masochistic shit from bitter, bitter men who date girls only to sleep with them and then complain that they don't meet any interesting girls... But this post amused me, not because I agree with it (because it's just stupid), but because it reminded me of why I was in the Sleazy Boys Club.

See, my friends in college created the Sleazy Boys Club, primarily because they act like sleazy 13 year old boys at times. Hitting on their friends, humping their friends, humping my Legolas poster on my door... I gained entry primarily because of my tendency to come up with horrible pick-up lines. Mainly my "my breasts are sore, can you massage them?" line and the "wanna boing my curls?" line. (Sidenote: I never actually used these pick-up lines. I just thought they were funny. So I read about the whole flag concept and I'm reading the comments and all I can think is "Wanna play Capture the Flag?" Which then makes me giggle even more, since I mainly played Capture the Flag with church groups. Which of course then leads me to the time when Michelle and I snickered through an entire worship service because we were perverting it in our heads. Yeah, we weren't a good influence on each other...

On a completely different topic, if I don't figure out how to destress soon, I'm going to go Lily Allen on someone's ass. (She has the whole song about "one drink more and I'm ready for action"). Only I don't need the drink. I seriously thought about hitting this woman on the metro yesterday who apparently, although she looked to be in her early forties, was six, as she kept glaring at me and shoving her bag into me because I was, I don't know, on the metro. Standing close to her, largely because there were 349083409 other people on the metro and I had no choice. Whatever. But her ridiculousness plus my crankiness due to stress could have lead to a showdown... Hopefully, this weekend I can make decisions (I'm going to look at a room in a house that sounds PERFECT! I hope I love it... and a campus) and then I can tell my stupid bosses that I'm leaving and it'll be great.

Stop staring at me! (Or not.)

I'm finally auditioning for a non-church choir. I'm kind of excited, though I'd be more excited if I didn't have to sing my prepared piece acappella. I'm not a big fan of that. Especially since I tend to go sharp when nervous. Plus I have to drive into DC and every time I've tried to go somewhere in particular, particularly places in NW, I get lost. Luckily, the common factor seems to be trying to take 395 into the city, and this time I get to take 50. I can handle that. I hope. Otherwise I guess I'll just be massively late.

I was reading an article on how young people have a completely different idea of privacy than those in their mid-30's. I would link to it, but I'm too lazy. It was interesting, though. I mean, even when I wrote in my diary, I imagined an audience. This blog is just an expansion of that. Does that mean that I was already being impacted by a new thought on privacy when I was only 10? I mean, the internet wasn't really popular then... Did people in previous eras NOT imagine that someone, someday would read what they had written?

Then there is the whole fact that we all basically expect every aspect of our lives to be recorded. By someone at least. I wonder, though, if my age group in particular is more or less circumspect when it comes to what we put online. I wouldn't post anything on any social networking site that I didn't want future bosses to see. Well, that's not entirely true. It probably wouldn't look great all my complaining on here about my job. But if they did see it, I'd be perfectly willing to discuss why I wrote what I did. I definitely wouldn't put up anything that could get me fired. Although these days, anything you put up could get you fired, it seems. Either way, I'm always aware that someone might read stuff, or find pictures, or decide to stalk and eat me. Whatev.

The future LOOMS

Apparently this week is National AmeriCorps week. As an alum, I guess I could do something, but seeing as how I hated my stint in AmeriCorps and only know a few people who enjoyed theirs, I think I'd better not. In AmeriCorps defense, though, I did VISTA (where you do an office job for a non-profit, thus indirect service), which has to be the most confused, least defined of all the AmeriCorps types. I think plain AmeriCorps and NCCC can provide participants with wonderful experiences. VISTA seems to be hit or miss. And I definitely missed.

So I've started looking at housing stuff and I'm getting a little more excited. I definitely want to be on the metro, and it looks like I can be. Whee!! Though then I'll be further away from where I'm taking my weaving class... which makes me sad, since I really kind of want to take the four shaft weaving. See, I took the rigid heddle class because I thought four shaft automatically meant floor looms. But NO! They are these adorable little table looms and I want to work on one and then I want to buy one and it'll be great. And cute. I think I may be in love with these looms. Lust, at least. Which reminds me... I need to steal a marker from work. Our assignment this week is to weave a circle, and I need to mark the warp!

Walking on Coals

I woke up to a rather strange situation this morning. Zach Braff was on my radio station. Now this might not seem strange. Afterall, his movie is coming out today, it's logical to think that he might be out promoting it. But I listen to a country station to wake up with. And Mr. Braff and country music don't seem to go together so well. Though he did start singing some old school country music...

Last night reminded me why I love Pam on The Office. Basically, she expresses everything I hate about my job without me having to figure it out by myself. She's much more unsure of herself in general than I am, but otherwise, we don't seem so different. She had a whole rant about feeling invisible in the office, like she didn't even matter, and a part of me said, "yes! That's a good part of what I hate here!!" Not that even most of my coworkers ignore me. It's just the attitude that if there is something boring, something no one else wants to do and something that requires no real intellect, it's automatically your responsibility. The thought that you don't deserve somehow the same respect that everyone else gets. My boss has shown me that over and over again, somehow thinking that I won't notice. Which of course is untrue. I mean, give me a break. The woman has done great things in her past, but she's not of the highest intellectual caliber. And she looks down on me? Treats me like I can't figure out the smallest thing? Acts like I am only good for insignificant work? Work, I might add, if undone would cause her great problems in her life... Whatever. But yes. So all the Pams out there, I understand!!! And all you non-Pams... don't think you're better than we are. Because you need us more than you know. And soon, I shall be a non-Pam again. I can't wait.

Exhouncy

So I can't decide if I'm exhausted or bouncy. I declare myself to be exhouncy! I shouldn't be exhausted. I feel asleep at freaking 10:30 last night. I did work out like mad. Seriously. I have got to learn to pace myself more. Though if I hadn't been so tired, I might have gotten in a fight with obnoxious woman who WOULD NOT GET OFF THE MACHINE that I wanted to use. I mean, come on. If you can do like 10 sets on one machine, you clearly are not lifting enough. And it's just rude when 9 people are hovering for that same machine. When she got up, I expected a mad scuffle. I graciously got on one of the other machines that I like, abandoned by a man who was going for the other.

I also shouldn't be bouncy. I woke up with a mad headache and then spend the morning looking at possible apartments only to realize that moving is going to be REALLY expensive. Sigh. But while I enjoy my neighborhood muchly and while my rent is reasonable and does not go up because I have a cat, the commute for school would be hell, no matter which school I choose. So onto Craigslist I shall go. The thing that I don't like is that Craigslist seems to be more current. As in if I wanted an apartment in the next three weeks, I could apply. I'd like to have things settled before hand. And if I could be by a metro... Sigh... that would be a dream come true.

Though, if I were by a metro, I wouldn't get the sights I do at the Pentagon. For example. For the past two days, there has been a woman standing by the metro, holding a "welcome, all Congressional Staffers" sign. I have never seen someone look less happy to be out there, holding a sign and welcoming staffers. She stands there with a frowny pathetic face, reminiscent of Eeyore, "welcoming" Hill staff.

Mystery solved!

I have found out where my missing socks go!!! Apparently, this guy is stealing them. I don't know why this is so funny to me. Maybe the mental picture of police following a trail of socks. Maybe it's the mental picture of the thief trying to worm his way through a basement window, socks in hand. Whatever. It makes me giggle.

What did not make me giggle was waking up to loud crashing this morning. Cassie, in her oh-so-fluffy cuteness, decided that what she wanted to do at 6 in the morning was kill my plants. I had these cute little pots with these newly burgeoning plants. Did she eat them? No. I could handle her eating them. Eating them would be less messy and at least my poor little plants would be dying for a cause, rather than just being wasted. But no. She just wanted to knock them off the table, getting dirt all over the floor and leaving the poor little seedlings continued existence a bit precarious. And waking me up and making me clean up soil at 6 in the morning. She got yelled at. Maybe she learned her lesson. She seemed a bit sheepish when I actually got up for good this morning. Or maybe I'll come home to find them once again on the floor. I'd move them, but it's the only place that gets sun...

Hidden Insults

My boss just walked by and told me that she "liked me so much better with short hair." I'm not impressed. We'll just see what she says if I dye it all funky.

So, yeah, I'm totally stressed out. This whole thing with SB (still in limbo) is driving me nuts. I might just resolve it all by killing him. Not really, because then I'd be really sad AND in jail, but some shaking might occur. Or beating with a pillow. Also, I'm still trying to decide on which school. It's between two, my first choice, and my second. Now, you could say that I should automatically go with my first choice. But should I? I picked it as my first primarily on gut reaction. Now I have to put thought into it. I've talked to current students there. My second choice students have not gotten back to me. Which is a negative in their column. I'd have to move for second choice. But second choice is bigger, has more options for classes, and a better career guidance organization. First choice is smaller, which means fewer options but also more personal attention. It would be a different experience after a big school for undergrad. It is a bigger name school, which would look good on my resume. It doesn't have much career guidance. Costs are comparable. It's all just confusing. I feel like Rory Gilmore with her lists...

Which, speaking of... I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ARE ENDING THE SHOW!!! And only two weeks before the last episode?! I needed time to say goodbye. Two weeks is not enough goodbye time. The Gilmore Girls is now a part of my life. There shall be a hole in my life which cannot be filled by any sitcom. I may just give up on non-documentary tv...

Dissertation on Love

I had a lovely chat with Emily last night. We, not surprisingly, wound up talking about relationship stuff (there was much awwing on my part. New relationships are just so cute!). I realized this morning, some of what I said might have been a bit bitter. Which is also not entirely surprising, considering the morass SB and I are still in the middle of. But it's not really what I think or feel.

We were talking about being in new relationships and how some personality types, such as me, can put entirely too much pressure on it. I remember a few days/weeks into SB's and my relationship trying to analyze if what I felt was what I should be feeling, if it all meant anything, if he was "the one." I mean, I hardly knew him. We hadn't spent hardly any time together, not really, and I was already trying to figure out if we should get married? Was I crazy?! (The answer to that was and is undoubtedly yes.) But the problem is, society and tv abound with examples of people falling madly in love immediately and knowing someone is the person they are supposed to be with within a few weeks. I'm not saying that there aren't examples of this happening, that I don't know people who have this happen. But I don't think I'm the personality type to let it. (Neither is CW, who, as she puts it, is "not sappy.") I'm too analytical, always examining everything that is happening to try and decide what it means. It's hard for me to just let go and be in the moment. But I think having doubts can be a good thing, too. It makes you examine things. It's like having doubts about your faith; questioning can point out the flaws, but in doing so, it makes faith stronger. I wonder if people who never doubt their relationship, especially in the beginning, examine it, or if they wind up later having doubts because they fell in so quickly.

The bitterness aspect comes in in that when we were talking about doubts, I said that I thought everyone has them (which I still maintain is true, at least at some point in the relationship). Emily responded that she knew x, y, and z who fell head over heels and were insanely happy together. I said I didn't think I was that type of person. And I don't know that I am. And that's what sounds bitter, but I don't think it is, not really. I think it's just a different type of love. Or maybe it's the same kind, but I'm afraid of letting myself feel what I feel, so I hide it from myself. Which is a distinct possibility. I remember reading something somewhere about people who, rather than feel everything as deeply as they actually do, try to suppress it to avoid being completely overwhelmed all the time. Of course, I can't remember where I read it, even what type of media, but oh well. I liked it, nonetheless. Either way, I don't think either way is better, just being completely sure is easier at the outset.

A Birthday wrap-up

First of all, I would like to thank everyone for their birthday wishes. I had voicemails from 9:06 on, plus emails and facebook comments and whatnot. It was lovely. As for my birthday itself, it was pretty good. Not the most stellar birthday ever, primarily because of how many things are up in the air, but pretty good. I got a lovely necklace from my parents, plus a drawing of my elementary school and some kind of fun class from my mom. I need to find out about the pricing on the fun class, although first I need to finish my weaving. My brother and s.i.l. got me a craft magazine subscription and a "Reasons to Cancel Your Subscription: the Worst of NPR Programming" cd, which I'm sure shall be quite entertaining. SB got me some rather nice earrings and matching hair clips... I also bought myself some yarn and earrings. Plus my parents flew up here for my birthday. I haven't driven that much in one weekend in a while... We went out to Luray Caverns and up to Annapolis and out to Manassas twice to get and return my dad to his plane. I went through a whole tank of gas and bumped my car up into the 18000 mile range. Yes, I know. I don't drive that much.

After seeing an article in the Post about sexual harassment of female bloggers, I'm starting to be happy that I'm not that popular. Which actually tied into a dream where no one liked me and in fact, everyone was mad at me and I was just hovering in the background. I've had very strange dreams recently, in part, I think, because of the heat in my apartment. See, they haven't yet turned on the air in my building and my apartment for some strange reason retains heat like none other. Therefore, my apartment has been miserably hot for the past week or two. Like 80-85 degrees at night. It's insane. But yes. So I shall take the lack of readers here as a good thing.

Me, A to Z

Because Jordan Baker tagged me and because all the allergy drugs/lack of sleep due to said allergies and the fact that my apartment is 10324890 degrees have temporarily broken my mind... I'll do a meme.

A- Available or Single? Um. Complicated. At this juncture, I would say no to both. Unless it's on one of those government forms, where single means not married.

B- Best Friend: Cassie. Or Whitney or Amy or SB.

C- Cake or Pie: Is it sweet? Because if it is, I'm all in. Even more so if it's chocolate.

D- Drink of Choice: Sweet tea, if offered. Or wine or a mojito (not only is it fun to drink, it's even more fun to say.)

E- Essential Item(s): Food, water, air. And books.

F- Favorite Color: Purple. For now. Changes frequently.

G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Worms

H- Hometown: Smalltown, TN

I- Indulgence: ice cream

J- January or February: Yeah, I don't get this question. Do I discriminate against February because it's shorter, or allow that Valentine's Day could balance it all out? And is having Valentine's Day such a great thing? But January isn't exactly a great month either. You're all worn out from the holidays, it's dark outside, there's not much to look forward to for a while... We'll call it a wash.

K- Kids: Eventually. What can I say, I'm a breeder...

L- Life is incomplete without: chocolate. Have I mentioned that I'm really into sweets? Because I totally am. And air, because without air, you quickly die.

M- Marriage Date: Hmph.

N- Number of Siblings: 1 and an in-law, who's rather short but whom I like, so we'll call it 1.8.

O- Oranges or Apples? Who could choose?

P- Phobias/Fears: Ghosts, failure, not death, but dying... losing loved ones

Q- Favorite Quote: I, sadly enough, don't have one. Feel free to leave yours in the comments.

R- Reasons to smile: Friends, baby animals, annoying people tripping in public

S- Season: Fall

T- Tag Three: I REFUSE!!! (Mainly because I can't think of three, but still...) Do it if you want to. And are bored.

U- Unknown Fact About Me: When I was little, I used to make up songs every day on my way home from school. They were awful. They might have been amazing, except that I also had the bad habit of falling down the stairs...

V – Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? Who says I can't be both? You can oppress animals in more ways than eating them...

W- Worst Habit(s): Procrastination, overthinking, laziness, comfort eating

X – X-rays or Ultrasounds? This is just dumb. I'm going to go with Xylophones.

Y- Your Favorite Foods. chocolate, sweets, pasta, asparagus, broccoli (see, I'm not ENTIRELY unhealthy...)

Z- Zodiac: Taurus.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

So, yes, I chopped off my hair. I mean, to the point I can't put any of it up. It's a slanted bob, somewhat similar to the one Sarah Jessica Parker had. But a little shorter. I like it now, but I think I'll really like it when it's a bit longer. AND she totally agrees with Whitney on giving me funky red highlights. Which will be lovely, particularly if I get someone else to go see her, because then she said she'd do them for free. :-) I was a little insulted, as she said that cutting my hair took 10 years off of me. I'm not saying that longer hair didn't make me look older and more serious. But I feel I'm still young enough to not be too worried about looking older. In fact, for a while, I really wanted to look older.

Speaking of older, I am rapidly approaching my 24 birthday. Mere days away, in fact. I wish I were more excited. I blame a. getting older, b. all the crap that has gone on in my life lately, and c. I can't really think of any presents I desperately want. Oh well. My parents are flying up, fun shall be had, and cake shall be eaten.

Toygers and other dreams

In honor of all the many people who get here thanks to my archived picture of a liger (prized for their skills in magic), I am posting a picture of a toyger. Yes, a toyger. These are cats that are being bred to look more and more like tigers, but they won't eat you. They might try (as Cassie proves by gnawing on my arm to wake me up in the morning), but they will have cat-sized jaws and claws. It's a little strange. But hey. Whatever you want to spend your time doing is fine with me.

My mind apparently decided last night that my top-choice school, on which I've given up since I REALLY doubt I'm getting funding and therefore can't afford it, was secretly Hogwarts. And Teddy Hall at Oxford, all in one. And a girl with whom I was friends in high school but haven't seen since opted to go somewhere else so that I could have her funding and her room. Rather nice of her, I thought. It would have been glorious and made me a bit sad. Then I decided to go on Facebook and see if I could find this old friend and, in the process, noticed how many people from my year are now married. That depresses me, mainly because I feel it is somewhat of a sign that they didn't ever really leave my hometown. Which if they are happy, who am I to judge? It's just not the life I would every choose...

Shifting Sand

That's it. I'm moving to Mauritania.

I have other, non-funny thoughts running around my head right now. How can I not? I mean, I looked at going to Virginia Tech for grad school. Besides, everyone who has been to college, particularly college in a college town, remembers what it was like. Remembers feeling like the campus was its own little island. Things on the island might hurt you. You might get sick from drinking or date raped by another student. But nothing like this. The worst things that should happen to you in the classroom are boredom and doing badly on a test or essay.

This all has made me think about some things. 1. The press. For the love of all that is good, leave these poor students alone. I see them on the Today Show, and all of them that I've seen who were actually on campus have this dazed, shocked look about them. The various hosts try to get them to talk about their experiences, their dead friends, their feelings about returning to class and how they're going to recover from this. And I want to scream with frustration. I understand that everyone wants information and wants to understand what is going on and how this could happen. But these kids don't need this from us. They had a girl on today who was a freshman at Columbine when that happened, one of the people in the cafeteria who luckily managed to escape. (This poor, poor girl) And that is what she said. She said that everyone needs to be able to get together, to support each other, to work through what they are going through. Without the press. Without having people ask them for interviews, without having lots of questions asked. And the whole naming the one student as the "hero" of the whole thing. Listen, I think what he did was great. God only knows what I would do in the same situation. But first of all, he was acting to save his own life. Yes, he saved lots of other lives by doing so. And what does that say about all the other people? I mean, there were other people who acted calmly and figured out how to protect themselves and others. What about the guy who blocked the door with his foot, and then, later, ran around doing first aide on the people whom he could help? I'm sure there are others. And what does calling this one guy a hero mean for all the other people, the people who didn't act as quickly?

2. What a strange world the millenials have grown up in. I mentioned Columbine, now this, September 11. I wonder if any of us can really feel safe anywhere. Not that we all think something is going to happen all the time. But I know I personally am not surprised when it does. Shocked, yes, saddened, yes. But surprised? I feel as though I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. For someone to attack the metro, for a plane to crash with me on it. For the earth to flood or a hurricane to blow away California. There are places that I think should be safe. But when I hear proof that they aren't, a part of me just sighs. I think I'll be more surprised if I die without anything tragic happening to me, like of old age or something.

Ant and Grasshopper

I feel like everything in my life is up in the air right now. I'm okay with it... For a little while. The whole thing with SB has really forced me to realize that no matter what happens, I need to make sure that I have a life and support system outside of him here. Which I've known for a while, but it just has been easier to not put myself out there, not try to claw my way into groups. So I went out with CW and her friends on Saturday. One of whom I liked muchly and is going to send me information on her choir, which she says is made up of fun people in their 20's and 30's. I also may have had my first random guy drink-buying experience, as I think a Rastafarian may have bought me a mojito. Then yesterday, I drug myself out in the rain to a meet-up book club.

As for what it actually going on with SB, it's still all confused. We're together, but he's still thinking and everything is rather fragile. I bought a book that he's been assigned to read; he's started it, and thinks it's helping. Also helping is me being sickeningly sappy. It's not sickening to me, though I think it might be a bit much for him. Not that he doesn't love it, because he totally does, but because he doesn't trust that it's real. I'm also going to have to really work on some annoying, frustrating habits. I just hope that he realizes soon that a lot of what he's feeling is frustration and hurt, feelings that can be very much overcome. Or at least that's what I think he's feeling... My prediction, though, is that if we survive this, it won't be incredibly long until we get engaged. Not like weeks or anything, but months. I, of course, can't tell him that because it puts pressure on him. And the whole no pressure thing is KILLING me. Last week, I felt like it was going to start hurting me. But no. The real problem is that I can't keep my mouth shut. You real-life people know that. If I have an opinion, then I feel the great need to say it. I also hate treading water. I see the problems, I think I know what to do, I'm ready to plunge in. Chomping at the bit and whatnot. But that's not SB. That's not him at all. He's cautious and wary and slow-moving. I bounce around, quickly changing direction, and he plods on, working and trying to figure out the best way. So I have to step back, shut up, and let him know how I feel without pushing him to decide things. Yeah, I might need to go buy some ducktape or something to help...