this week is the it. sister go to afghanistan. fam make me drink wine then there was port. week in anticipate: one presentantion on slippery slope arguments for euthanasia, get a job, get visa, mark 50 papers on the subject of "evil," write a fifteen page final evaluation, polish off the shittiest paper on virtue ethics, drawr some pictures, talk about my feelings, be done, feel disoriented, get drunk and watch the o.c. till i figure out up and down. tv should do that, right? i hope. dear journal, talk soon.

sometime soon i hope to have outweathered winter. do something that does not require lumbar support. be some sort of waitress. and it will be glorious.

http://gallery.apartmenttherapy.com/photo/020708moniquetour/_slide_

so, things are moving along, i suppose.

tracy’s back a week with james then enroute to kabul. dinner with them all last night. if a good night of being grownup means drinking bourbon with your daddy, relaxing in the sauna, and to bed at a decent hour, i like being grownup.

several weeks more of microsoftfuckyword and then no more. no more, ok?

There are things, like the harp that plays in my mind, which cannot be taken away. I can only remember a few phone numbers at once, and once I’ve learned one, it is a hard time to forget. This time it really will be. But, I’m trying to be good, trying to think of the good things. You know, I have learned some things, like that I can actually have such a desire to watch over another person. I didn’t know I had this sort of good stuff in me. I remember things and it is hard to remember, and it is also hard not to. It is difficult, that everything worth anything is a catch-22. I used to write everything down. Now I just dry heave. To my surprise, upset is not very linear— little things like that I don’t even have photographs from the rodeo. I don’t have a map for this. I can’t make a schedule. Neither of us can vitiate each other any longer. Only to myself now. If I’ve learned nothing else, humans are indeed valuable.

Flight of the Concords

fashionist
apartment therapy
carpal tunnel
avoiding
school
school
school
three more weeks three more weeks
three
weeks
more
!

hey, did I tell you I'm moving to San Francisco?

yup, i am.

i think that nice yellow one on the right'll be my house.

i am moving here.

Crying makes boiled eggs of my eyeballs. Today the sun made wonders through my window. I never left my house but wish I did, got dressed after sunset. I feel tired, happy, sad, and alive.

There's something sort of light about everything being up in the air. Everything that goes up must come down?

hawaii wants me.

it is currently 26 degrees in hawaii.
yes, celsius.

i have to decide really soon.
help!

johnny walker's just the wrong man to be taking to bed with me tonight. i have never cried so much in my life.

if we can make it through this, we can make it through anything.

quarter of a century, fifth of my life.

That I am turning 25 on Friday has been figuring pretty greatly lately. I started to do Beyonce's master cleanse in spiritual preparation. But, instead of ten days, it only lasted until dinner time. For better or for worse, I remain me.

Though I didn't know it when I dragged myself out of bed this morning, today needed me. Today was a much better day.

When I awake my heart catches up and I want to retch. But, you know what? I get out of bed and go on anyway. Sometimes I wonder why I do that but I know why, and hey, why not?

This morning in the shower in the dark before the sunrise I opened this thing of pomegranate mango body wash and forgot everything. The first time I remember flying I bought a pack of gum that smelled just like that. Where was I trying to get to?

I have nothing else to look forward to. Everything in me needs something and badly, but what? There is a species of caterpillar that lays its eggs and then changes into a moth that has no digestive system, no way of taking in food, so that it starves to death in a few hours.

There’s this book about Jesus with a map on the cover with a key entitled An Explanation of Colors. I want to learn to write again. I need to. I can’t breathe.

i want to live some place where the plants survive the winter.

I'm feeling some positive pressure to get back into the blogging. and, since i'm supposed to be doing job applications right now, it seems like a good time to start.

This first one'll be for news. Lately:

1. Spent a good long while with Micah here visiting friends, fam, and tending to trees and flowers. Needless to say but sometimes good to, this was very nice. I like that one.
2. Spent a good long while after Micah left heckling with the antique furniture people and anyone else who would appease my needy customer ways, to pass the time beneath the facade of purchasing light fixtures and magazine racks.
3. Spent a good long time at the cottage, much of which was spent with the Farquhar matriarchs, a fiesty crew. To give you an idea, at one point, great aunt Joan, 90, pulled a dollar store pistole on me.
4. Bachelorette party and recovery.
5. A beautiful wedding (not my own).
5.1. Ate the best damn pizza I've ever eaten- yes- even better than New Haven style pizza at Salvatore's with Ungle G.
5.2 Talking to Micah on the telephone, hearing about how my life in New Haven and beyond goes on without me. Sad.
6. I live in Halifax now. This has been consuming much of my time. Finding burrows for all of mine and Darcy's stuff could really be a full time job.
Ugh. Procrastination over. J-o-b.