And What It Is You Do To Keep Your Eyes Shiny

Uh oh.

So I went to meet JD for lunch/dinner whatever and I tell him about how much that stupid package cost me to send. And then I was out-loud-rationalizing spending more on the shipping than all the shit inside combined, and saying what a good friend I was as I reminded myself how much fun I crammed into one huge box for he and whomever else to enjoy, and then my eyes get really wide as I list "book of mad libs" as one of the items in the box and I remember actually completing some of those mad libs a long time ago and then JD's eyes get wide too as we both realize at the same time that, horrifically, some of those mad libs may have actually mentioned Keith and his girlfriend by name. And still more awfully, some of those adjectives and verbs nearby those names were probably not the nicest things. Oh god I haven't laughed that hard in like six or seven years. Here I am congratulating myself on being the best friend in the world and being so thoughtful and sending such a nice present and then BLAM here comes Karma again, hilarious Karma, and bends me over the $33 box and teaches me another lesson on not being remorselessly bitchy


HAHAHAHH. Fucking shit, man. So we think most of the mad libs were just us writing in gross words like "poop" over and over because that was hilarious to us at the time we were doing them, but I have a vague memory of using people's names too. whoopsie.

also, just before he went to sleep last night JD changed the last L in Keith's last name to a D on the mailing label. I almsot didn't see this before I mailed it.

Wow, what a great friend I am. I spend all that time and money to send him a book of insults addressed to Keith Bald. Fuck fuck fuck.

Also funny; I was driving to meet JD and my cell phone rang with a "private" number and it was Adam Kinney misdialing for Sha-niggra. Or at least it sounded like adam kinney, and I think the best thing to do is assume that his fiance's name is Sha-niggra and it's her phone number that everyone thinks they're calling when they call me.

Oh my god, I feel even sicker now. I wonder if I can get on UPS and cancel the package. Shit balls, man.

Danger! Danger! High Voltage! When We Touch!

Ok what the hell, it seemed like I had something pressing to talk about before I logged into this. Hmmm.
I have been actually being productive for the last couple hours, working on a project as i should be, and it's getting done and in such a timely fashion, too.

I went to the place where I make copies and get hit on by the two guys who always work there to mail a package of shit for keith, because I am really thrilled that he has a job and a new apartment and it was an excuse to go to Ikea and buy a bunch of little shit like tiny lamps and smelly stuff and throw it in a box with other shit and pat myself on the back for being a good friend for sending him something as a housewarming gift. So I got a little carried away with it, and bought a box that was larger than I needed, which encouaged me to fill the whole box, and I put a lot of really heavy stuff in it, (sidenote: keith and I have been squabbling for weeks over whether mailing stuff costs you by distance or by weight, and even though I am staunchly saying "weight" I packed about three hundred pounds of shit into this box like a moron) and took it to mail and it cost me THIRTY THREE DOLLARS just to ship it. Ohhh, I still feel a little sick from that. I think it weighed like 17 pounds. Oh my god.

So that was the dumbest thing i did recently, I thought you guys would taunt/tease me mercilessly in my comments section for that, and rightly so. When the guy told me how much it was I bitchily and remorselessly blurted out, "sweet god, I don't like him THAT much" and he thought that was hilarious and then made jokes about me sending this guy's stuff back to him. Hahahahaha. Copy store guy totally wants me. Hahahaha.

Do you guys know that I wanted to use something from the Onion as part of this project I'm putting together, as a funny thing to read at the end so no one is sad and goes and kills themself after the study, but my advisor had to gently point out that undergrads are too stupid to get the humor, and I have to use (equally funny but differently) Calvin and Hobbes instead? Isnt' that sad? But it's an intro psych class and I have to say I think she's right. Not that those of you undergrads who read this wouldn't get it, duh, but it alarmed me how right she is...the kids here seem WAY dumber than IU, and I don't know if that's just cuz I'm a grad student now and I'm so remorselessly bitchy and having spats of knee-jerk indignation about people not being grad students, but whatever. The kids here are really REALLY dumb. And it's actually a hard school to get into for them. They only take like 20% of the applicants. Sweet God.

Also, Benzy my fat neighbor has started smiling at me instead of glowering when I walk by. Probably this is because I flashed him the other day too, and he thinks it was intentional. I give myself a headache

I am starting to worry mildly about everyone I know. One of the girls I hang around here was telling me how stressed she is and how she doesn't eat and she's tired all the time and she's lost like 10 lbs. since the beginning of the school year and it's not a diet thing, she just doesn't have time to eat. And I was like nodding along with everything she said cuz I think I've lost the 45 pounds I gained while in Evansville just from riding my bike and ingesting lethal amounts of caffeine every day. But it's true, Chris says the same thing and I know Raedy's turning into Hakakaka (sic) over there and I just don't want to see anyone freak out and lose it over grad school, or law school, or whatever. Hang in there, guys. And eat something and take vitamins. at LEAST take vitamins.

So I have to go, have to go meet JD for our regular Saturday-he-works-9-hours lunch date. See ya

OH YEAH one more thing: Next Sunday, Feb. 8th, is me and Jd's FIVE YEAR Anniversary. I think you're supposed to give us crystal. Or whatever is fine. I'm kind of wishy washy on the tradition so use your imagination. Hahahahahahahahaha.

On The Development of Individual Differences in Personal Ability to Perceive His Sensations: A meta-analysis

Because I promised Raedy I would title a post that so we could giggle about all things dorkful and naughty, VOILA.

You look at that, non-raedys, (isn't it great how I address most of my thoughts either to Raedy or to all the non-raedys? there is no in between for me anymore, it's total distinction. that is what happens when you go to dork school) and you see how they want to force you to write in academia, completely without making sense or in my opinion even sounding smart, but dry and ivory tower-esque. ivory tower-onic. ivory tower-ish. So never lob misguided "insults" at me about how bad I write, this is like my juvenile stomping ground for incomplete thoughts and unnecessary adjectives that aren't allowed in my usual waking life existence.

everything is right with the world again. Thanks to Melissa for pointing that out. Thanks also to Dave for making me laugh and Raedy and then also Mike's comments section, and MY comments section, all of which are amusing. The second wave of comp cds went out yesterday, that includes the ones JD mailed, all of you on those lists can now start holding your breath for them to arrive.

I talked to Jenny for a long time last ngiht, that was fantastic. Not all hilarious subject matter but it's still nice to have a functional relationship with my sister. I like noticing that we get along and like each other better the geographically further away from her I move, so for my next trick I suppose I'll be switching continents or at least buying a boat. The pirate ship fall back plan is really starting to sound like heaven. Good god, I vow that if I ever win the powerball I'll fucking buy us a pirate ship. I'll have Disney outfit it too, so it would be magical all the time.

This is not exactly funny, but made me laugh and will probably make Jenny laugh too:
I wrote mom an email last night saying "never pull that scary shit (which I won't get into here) on me and Jenny again. thanks." to which she replied, "well, i would never wish that kind of verbal assault on another human being, but I guess it could be considered selfish of me not to want to have to endure it myself"

christ, lay off the guilt trips. the problem wasn't in hanging up on someone, the problem was in leaving the phone off the hook and calling the cops on mike. Hahahahah, oh good lord poor mike

anyway, all is right with the world, I am back on top of thigns (not like caught up with school, but you know, psychologically I am dandy), I talked to Mister Flight Instructor last night after I talked to my sis and he's doing great, tried to take credit for inspiring my hilarious title about JD creaming my pants when he sees a jeep, that didn't happen, I am sending a "housewarming" (read: box full of styrofoam crispies) present in that direction at some point, glad things are good, glad Andy's back in the US of A, can't wait to see you 'n Darci, can't wait to see Jessica at the end of Feb, can't wait to see those of you planning visits over spring break, can't wait to see Ashleigh in the summer, can't wait to be done with this godforsaken quarter and move on to another god forsaken quarter. Things are looking up up up up up up

I really like my advisor, she's great, she lifted my spirits immeasurably yesterday just by casually mentioning she thinks I'm doing a great job with all the shit on my plate, that was nice to hear, they don't dole out compliments here like I would have liked:( yeah waaaah pout pout I know

i'm about out of shit to talk or not talk for hours about
oh wait i had two of those "you might be a grad student if" thingys:

1.) You MIGHT be a grad student if:
Your button up shirt is accientally unbuttoned one too many, leaving your boobies and your pink bra exposed to the world like you're making a fashion statement, and instead of feeling embarrassed when you notice the draft that initially alerts you to this, you think analytically about the individual probabilities of each person near you having noticed before you, and rest assured that only a couple of neanderthal undergrads could possibly have noticed unless it happened when you turned around in your chair and leaned waaaaaaaay back to reach to hand a paper to the guy sitting three seats behind you, which is probably when the button made a run for it, and coincidentally the guy you probably showed your tits to is that same retard I made fun of a coupld posts ago for asking a stupid question about a correlation. Karma gonna getcha

2.)you MIGHT be a grad student if:
you and a fellow grad student fight over a third grad students colorful pens, and who gets to use the purple one today, and you compromise by trading at the break in the three-hour seminar class, and you also tell the other two about your old roommate who buys exorbitant pens and calls them treatful and is a huge dork about it but no one seems surprised or even like they think that's odd, because you know they both have their own favorite splurge pen that they buy and hoarde, and this is proven when your friend who lent you the purple pen sticks her hand on your face at the end of class and goes "ahem, my pen" before the professor's even finished wrapping up the discussion. Hahahahaha

Anyway, that's just what happens to me on a daily basis. Also embarrassing: I was peeing today and there was a line in the bathroom and I'm hover peeing as usual and I look up and see the door to my stall has started opening by itself. I have no idea who got an eyefull of what today. The shirt thing was yesterday, and I am pretty sure my whole stats class checked out my rack. At least my boobs probably looked good in their nice fancy push-up bra. Jesus, I have to learn to dress myself like a big girl and not wear shit that's going to fall off or malfunction

fucking shit. But at least everything is right in the world. Thank god.

The Misery Is How God Lets You Know You're On Track

Today I watched a show on MtV I've seen before about plastic surgery, and two girls are totally vain, one lame lame lame guy gets "calf implants" that look ridiculous, one girl gets her stomach stapled and one girl talks about how fucked up her lipo was and how it ruined her life. And I saw it and scoffed at it the first time and still sat through the whole thing again today gaping at it in the same way. How did they end up that pathetic? Not the stomach stapling thing, but the girls who want to be in playboy and won't work out, just want it all sucked out for them. Oh probably someone came along and psychoanalyzed them into feeling worthless. Nice job, research psychologists. Nice misappropriating your powers.

JD is currently blaming me for his eating disorder. Gee, guys, is there anything wrong with any of you that isn't inherently, unequivocally, categorically my fault on some level? Hmmm?

I found myself gossipping with some of my school friends tonight and we got to talking about the angriest we've been in recent memory. Nothing like running an incident past a couple objective listeners to really get a handle on how outlandishly retarded the whole thing is. One even asked, poignantly, "do you think maybe this guy is in love with you and that's why he's so angry, because you're not interested in him?"

To which I responded by laughing maniacally for half an hour and agreeing that yes, probably that explained the whole thing. I think JD actually has a similar theory about someone else we know. Hahahahahahaahahahahaahahaha

I thought she made a compelling point, though. And it was eerie how similar their stories about being angry were to mine.

I'm super tired. But I'm in a way better mood today than yesterday. Not surprisingly. I miss thunderstorms. I miss sleeping without dreaming.

See How Far This Tiny Ship Has Come

Only because Raedy requested it. By the way, Raedy, my name is not "beef." Please make a note of it.

So today was like the worst day in recent memory. Just shitstorming cats and dogs. I don't even want to put it on my blog, that's how lame today was. I haven't gotten shit done all weekend because I've been lazily making you guys comp cds (i am not complaining) and then cleaning up the dramatic mess that some people I know are capable of making. No, not you. Not anyone who reads this. Just christ, people, you're aging me at an alarming rate.

In keeping with Stacey's supposedly unsolicited rant, here's why I'm hating today:

*my mom is crazy. i can't even explain this to normal people. I am tired of being her parent, I am tired of making her decisions for her, I am tired of being the only thing tying her to reality when all I want to do sometimes is scream at her that she's crazy but I can't because that makes her more crazy. So instead I deal with it, and I have to deal with it because sometimes Jenny can't and that's fine but we can't both not be dealing with it at once or mom self-destructs. So that's that.

*tomorrow I get a huge stipend check for February. JD wrote me a check for most of his paycheck that I put in the bank today. yet somehow I crunch some numbers and as soon as I dole out the checks that need to be written there's no excess money, and it's me holding my breath (and jd too) until his next check. this is not surprising, and this is in fact welcomed because we're throwing breathtaking amounts of money at the credit card debt right now, and I dont' really need anything other than a coke or a bagel every now and then, so it's not like i need spending money, but there's something about not having the option that gives me panic attacks. and here i was thinking i could almaot stop worrying about money. hahahaha, like that ever happens

I'm just down because i'm sick of drama chasing me around trying to pin me down and lick my forehead. i'm sick of the petty bullshit, yes, but that doesn't really bother me as much as seeing it bother other people I care about. I'm sick of things making people post vague, tame rants about how much they do not appreciate being included because i feel like maybe i shoudl have done something different to make sure they were left out of the bullshit. i'm sick of feeling like i am somehow supposed to be doing things for myself AND for other people, when I'm doing just enough for me right now and there's no indication that I'll ever be able to take care of me and support someone else and even dream of having a "normal" young adult life. i had a stupid dream this mornign where JD and I got suddenly married on a dark scary beach and then i was upset after because he had no intention of getting me a ring since we were already married. i'm sick of the lump in my throat, i'm sick of worrying about people that are 2000 miles away, i'm sick of knowing that if anything happens and my mom decided to leave the phone off the hook there is not a goddamn thing I can do to contact her, i'm sick of guilt trips, i'm sick of being selfishly honest with people and making them feel sick because of it, i'm sick of constantly putzing around the house picking up clutter and cleaning things and i'm sick of being indecisive and i'm sick of giving myslef headaches by furrowing my brow all the time. i'm sick of my shoulder and my hip hurting like i'm arthritic, and of people being muddily sarcastic and slapping themselves on the back for something no one else could possibly have understood, i'm tired of still hearing about this or that drama, i'm tired of wondering who thinks what about what, I'm tired of not being able to fall asleep at night, i'm tired of wasting all my energy trying to figure out why people are angry or in what particular way i may have offended them or what i am expected to do to make it better or walk away or what

i am just tired, all the time, i am tired of the bullshit on all fronts and i am tired of trying to decipher vagueries aimed in my direction.

but the thing is: i don't have time for bullshit. I'm not being arrogant, I really don't have time to deal with it on any given day. So it doesn't matter to me. I have too much that's too importnat and i've worked too hard to fuck up, so it doesnt' fucking matter. Just another threshold for my body to catch up to

if one more person hears me explain that i am in research psychology and then asks if I'm psychoanalyzing them as we speak, i will faint

I am working on the requested comments section. I used to have one a long ass time ago but no one ever commented and it just got annoying. So, I will try this again for a limited amount of time, and if it still sucks I'm taking it back down. Mostly I didn't have one because I don't care what you all have to say. Just kidding. anyway, if I can figure this out with minimal effort you got it.

Everytime I See You In My Dreams, I See Your Face, You're Haunting Me

I am really enjoying Melissa's comments section. Not because I am especially included in the now-finished debate, but because I have the giggles this evening and even poor children with no money for their school lunches is hysterically funny to me.

If you are Ashleigh, Raedy, or Jenny, you are now to count the days until you get something "cool" in the mail. If you are Chris Daniels you might want to send me your address, and if you are Melissa I would recommend checking your mail some time in the not-too-distant future for an unsolicited cd. Also, if you are Keith and want a housewarming present which will inevitably consist of a comp cd because that is all I know to do with myself, you might want to send me your physical address as well.

I watched a tv show today where a woman gave birth. she made the most inhuman noises I have ever heard. I hate those shows, but I can never change the channel while they're on. and it grosses me out and I have to look away and sometimes I vomit a little in my mouth, but I have to watch. And all it does is make me never want to have something that big come out of me; but now that I think about it I have such a "cavernous" vagina that I probably wouldn't even feel it, so nevermind. No biggie.

Yours are 8X8? Ours are 9X9. No big deal.

I get a lot of hits on google searches for "you can't call a baby an asshole"
Anyone wanna fess up?

So what's new other than the birth show? Hmmm.
Been making a lot of comp cds. Like, eighteen thousand. Been thinking about stuff, school stuff and life stuff, etc. I'm flat broke today, and tomorrow, and Sunday, but then on Monday I get a fat check for being a grad student and JD will give me a shitload of money too. He got paid today for working 190 hours in the last two weeks. I am not exaggerating. He's at work now, it blows. I've been sitting around all day with nothing to do but pick my nose and wipe it on his computer screen and wait to see if he notices when he gets home. I met him for dinner, that was fun. God no wonder I'm laughing hysterically at everything, I am losing my mind.

Ok, I've been thinking.

So we all search for connections with other people and it doesn't matter (at least to me) what level these are on or how confused the levels get or how long the connections last, that's all anyone's looking for in life. And self-fulfillment, I guess, too, because even I get kind of bored if I just sit around not doing shit with myself for more than like six weeks. Ha.

For me, this connection thing doesn't happen all the time. And when I find someone that clicks like that I don't ever want to let go, no matter how profoundly retarded of me it is. But then I have this other side where I trash things I care about ceaselessly and I don't mean I talk shit (that's another story), I mean I pick them up and stick them in the dumpster, necessary or not. Somehow I think it's a defense mechanism, but in what way it defends me I am not exactly sure. The point I am lamely trying to make here is that I react extremely with these connections, and the direction in which I choose to react sometimes seems kind of arbitrary.

The other point I am trying to make is that I don't even understand my own intensities with people, let alone someone else's. A lot of times I just don't bother to try, a lot of other times I can't get it so I chuck it out the window. But what I'm noticing lately is that nothing kills people like losing one of these connections suddenly or unexpectedly, and I'm not trying to be totally obtuse here, just stating a rather obvious fact that's bugging me a lot lately.

everytime one disappears part of my heart gets ripped out and the leftover bits regroup a little more closely together, and then there's a part of me that stops existing. It seems like with time this can only happen more and more, and it scares me that I have a lifetime of becoming more guarded and more cynical ahead of me.

So I just figured out why I'd rather trash someone than hang on: it all depends on what I feel in my heart the ultimate outcome will be. some of it has to do with how in denial I am (here's where that stupid doe-eyed optimist thing is most unfortunate) about things eventually working out, but most of it has to do with how strongly I still feel warm and fuzzy when I think about the person. In other words, how intensely I still feel, reciprocated or not. And when I don't feel anything when I think about someone, or if I see it being an uphill battle with me pushing the whole thing the whole way only to have it dissipate anyway, I trash it because I am absolutely terrified of failure. And I'm not going to invest anything of myself into a relationship that could potentially be great because I am too afraid of it blowing up in my face, and that logic eats itself when we compare it to the first part about being willing to go to any lengths for the intense connections no matter what the result. Hmmm, how do i reconcile this stupid paradox?

I guess I don't, I guess that's who I am and most of you already knew all that beyond a shadow of a doubt and if you don't like it you would've called me out hard core, like burning bridges bad. Or you'd be pissed at me and avoiding talking to me based on something you read that you weren't supposed to ever see that wouldn't be admissible in court if anyone knew how you ended up reading it.

Shane, you were right on about so many things, and while I'm still rolling my eyes at the fact that you deleted my link and my sister's but ADDED Keith and kept JD's, I have to thank you for hurrying the inevitable on several fronts and giving me a good excuse to spit some venom. Misguided as it may have been, however you want to take that.

You're So Pretty When You're Unfaithful To Me

Just wanted to say:

BOO YA, SUCK IT SUBJECT TEST

96th percentile BEEEEYATCH

Hahahahahaha ahaha aha hahahahaha hahahaha. GIMME THE MONEY, FOR SHIT'S SAKE, I DON'T WANT JD TO HAVE TO WORK 80 HOURS A WEEK ANYMORE

hahahahahahahahaha, delightful

God this sounds like some crazy Raedy post

So Don't Let The Necessary Occur...

I heart LimeWire. I just downloaded it yesterday and I don't think I have stopped to do anything more traditionally "constructive" since. I'm in comp-cd-making overdrive; especially for people who felt gypped over break when I promised cds and didn't deliver. Or, for people who were left out of the extremely pretentious comp trilogy-plus-others I made in the fall and didn't send to everyone. I'm a get you, don't worry. If you want comp cd of songs I think you personally will like, email me. I'm happy to do it, in fact this is becoming something of a consuming hobby for me, I hate that if I have a spindle of 50 blank CDRs I can't rest until I run out. Also, I can't get any serious work done until I run out.

In other music news, JD has alerted me to a festival-style concert in Indio (not far from here) the first weekend in May that includes confirmed headliners Radiohead, the PIXIES, and Kraftwerk, as well as Prefuse 73, rumored appearances by the Darkness and a bunch of other kick ass bands that are sure to jump on now that Radiohead and the Pixies are definitely being there. I have never before wanted to attend a weekend-long concert festival. Fucking A, though. Who wants to come visit in early May? Heh

I like school, I'm glad to be getting back into the swing of things. Should be getting busier and busier with every passing day but that's fine by me. JD works all the goddamn time so I might as well be immersing myself in grad school. Speaking of, I talked to my mom yesterday and I think she is hoping that I hate school so much that I drop out after my second year, when I'll have my masters. I don't know how to break it to her that even if I did (I am not going to), I wouldn't move back to Evansville and live next door to her. I don't really think I'll ever move back to Indiana, and I sure as fuck don't want to think about the Eville job market for psychology masters' degrees. I guess I could teach intro psych at USI. Ha, no thanks. that's probably the most nightmarish thing that I could dream up.

I've been having more nonstop dreams too, but all I remember from today are flashes...I was on a plane and it had to make an emergency landing on a highway, and so did another plane at the same time, and my plane landed behind the first plane, which hit the ground and exploded, so I was sure we were going to do the same, but then nothing happened and I was telling people about how the plane "crashed but didn't explode" so it was no big deal. And then I was throwing Keith a housewarming party (he just moved to Fort Wayne) and that's all I remember about that.

Yep!

Sound of Crap

First, I need to know if you really farted during a talk, Raedy. Please please say you did, or at least tell me WHO was brilliant enough to recover like that....I have to know

Second, I have to tell you guys about the weird dream I had today plus the one from yesterday.

Today:
Me and Amy Fox and her entire family (who are all blond girls about her age) are sailing on a boat in a huge body of water somewhere, and we sail over a dotted line painted on the water, and someone explains that it's some kind of indicator for you to not go that way, the world ends or something. So then we're underground, still on the boat, and this is the way we usually go to wherever we're going but today it's weird, and we get out of the boat and climb onto the side of the canal where there's a ledge because we have to figure out the problem. So we realize eventually that one of the pilot lights for the huge generators that blow hot air into the underground canal system, somehow making sure the water level stays ok, has gone out and it needs to be relit. But it's really hard to get to. But if someone doesn't relight it, everyone in the canal underground will drown because there's a part of the canal just ahead that goes down a little waterfall and that part will flood and everyone below it will die and it will eventually back up and kill everyone at the higher part. So we have to figure out a way to light it. And I try, and Amy tries, but it's too high up from the ledge, and we can't reach. So then this enormous giant man who looks kind of a lot like Sam Kennison appears and we beg him to try, and he reaches up to it and almost squishes me as he does, and then I have to stop a nice Jewish couple from sailing past while he's doing this, and he gets it lit and I wake up.

Yesterday:
JD and I were being dropped off at what was supposed to be the Evansville airport by Keith who was flying a Cessna, and it landed on the runway like a helicopter instead of like a plane. So we get out and then K flies off because he has to go pick someone else up, so we wait in the parking lot of the airport and JD and Ashleigh and a few other people stand around while I fly 20 feet above them in my tiny absurd plane complete with Disney-ride joystick and do touch-and-goes off the roof of JD's parked car. This goes on for awhile and then we notice a HUGE jet landing (the same weird way we did) at the airport, and upon further inspection we see that it's supposed to be AirForce1, and then JD and I remember that it's the most dangerous day of the year for terrorism, the president is hiding out in Evansville, and we are affiliated with the CIA-type people who are in charge of hiding him. We're not agents but we're affiliated somehow. So we take off toward the house (which is in view of the airport) where he'll be staying, and it looks a bit like Janel's parents' house, and there's a big ditch out front, between the house and the airport, and it's full of mud, and this is where we come upon lots of agents lying head to toe lengthwise along the ditch, buried in the mud, because this way when the terrorists come (who are really ninjas, I'm thinking) they wil step on one of the agents and they'll kill the bad guys. So JD and I are super tired and we decide we'll just lay down in the mud with the agents instead of going in the house, so we try to get comfy but there isn't enough mud and our feet are sticking out, which we realize is going to get us killed. So right at the last minute, right before the bad guys come we jump up and run into the house, and as we do we see shadowy bad-guy figures running backlit from the airport, and we know they're coming to kill people, and then JD and I get separated and then I wake up to the alarm clock going off and I try to tell JD about it because I'm freaked out but he snores through it. Ha

That is all

I'm in frantic cleaning mode because I reccently remembered that JD's grandparents will be visiting us here tomorrow, and his grandma is not a fan of clutter. Neither am I, but...the house just has to be a lot cleaner. Fuck.

Now That We've Heard What My Butt Has to Say, Here's What I Think:

Unfunny: You wake up almost daily from bizarre, scary nightmares.
Funny: Your nightmare included you flying around in a tiny one-person plane that looks like it belongs on a Dumbo The Flying Elephant Ride, giggling while you did touch-and-go manuevers off the roof of a parked car.

Unfunny: You almost fall off your bike on the way to school and two maintenence men see it, snicker
Funny: The friend you're walking with trips up some stairs and almost eats concrete, in the busy part of campus (ok that's not THAT funny)

Unfunny: You dread stats class because you can't understand the math review because you "tested out" of college math and haven't had anything since high school trig
Funny: You attend the first stats lab today and, once typos on the math review are corrected, remind yourself why you tested out of college math; also, the material covered in the "lab" is stuff like "what is a correlation" and "what does 'skewed' mean?"

Unfunny: You are such a dork that you buy the most expensive pens you can find that don't say "PhD" on them, because that would be kind of pretentious
Funny: You refer ceaselessly to them as "my treatful pen" and don't let anyone else use them

Unfunny: You find a spot of mold on a bagel that was about to get stuffed in your mouth
Funny: You find out later that JD had a bagel for breakfast before you woke up

Unfunny: You post a comment on someone's blog in a weak and perhaps misguided attempt to defend one of your friends. You do this somewhat anonymously.
Funny: No one can tell if you are defending or insulting said friend, most people assume you are insulting, this causes further outrage at your cowardice in posting "anonymously"

Unfunny: All your clothes shrink in the wash
Funny: Now you fit in better with the types of styles the entire campus body is wearing

Unfunny: You announce during your job talk that your best friend and collaborator is visiting the same place in a week to give a job talk on the same material
Funny: This is going to be me and Raedy, somehow

Unfunny: The inept hairstylings of our neighbor Japanese Boyman, imagine shoulder length streaked blonde hair spiked straight up
Funny: The other white, white, whitewhitewhite neighbor who lives with Benzy and has been emulating Japanese Boyman's hair

Unfunny: JD's stupid joke about the tickets
Funny: JD's stupid joke about the tickets when presented to his work colleagues while working in a place that only sells tickets

Unfunny: Having a baby you aren't smart enough to care for
Funny: Having a second baby you aren't smart enough to care for

Unfunny: Walking a hundred yards from the SE building to the bookstore and finding it's Block Party week in the corridor between the buildings
Funny: getting asked to pledge several sororities, possibly because you are not Asian and they want to diversify

Unfunny: The obnoxious guy in all my classes who's a second or third year but "changed" programs so they make him retake all the requirements who has a badditude and complains all the time
Funny: When same obnoxious guy raised his hand in the stats lab to complain that the scatter plot showing a correlation we were looking at had both variables charted in the same color; wasn't that a bit confusing, he asked? (Note to non-raedys: each point represents one data point consisting of both variables, the two variables go on the X and Y axis, for example height and weight, so his question was absolutely stupid and I almost fell out of my chair)

Unfunny: When your mom makes you watch the Bridges of Madison County with her
Funny: When your mom makes you promise you won't wear white in your own wedding

Unfunny: You have an obsession with your pet rabbit and name it Dr. Snickers von Floppenstein
Funny: You take her on bunny play dates in the hopes of finding a permanent friend for her to play with

Unfunny: You fight with your boyfriend
Funny: You fight over who won at Bennnigan's trivia

Unfunny: Stacey's comments section
Funny: Mike's comments section

Unfunny: Using lame, tired insults like "douchebag"
Funny: Making up ones like "lap dance"

Yeah that's all I got right now. More plus more of the WYCKED AWESOME nightmare I had this morning if I get bored later.

You Know What To Do-ooo

I was walking to the bookstore today and "hey ya" was stuck in my head, as is usually the case, and a guy handed me an invitation to a frat party that read "What's Cooler Than Being Cool?" and then at the bottom said "ICE COLD!" and the theme of the party is Ice Cold-ness. I thought that was a sign that I am supposed to attend the party, so I'll be going by myself in a couple hours. No, I am kidding. It was a nice-ass invitation though. People here have so much money.

I bought my books, I was kind of surprised I needed any books, for two classes I have three plus articles and they cost over $300. That sucked. I was glancing over the syllabi for both my classes just now and realized I have about six chapters in a stats and methods book that I have to read tonight. And a "math review" worksheet that I can't even read, let alone understand to solve. I am not happy about that.

Otherwise, things are great. It's gorgeous as usual here, it's warming up already, can't wait for the visits to begin. I promise to try to have my responsibilities under control before you come out, so we can spend QT at the beach. Hehehehe.

Nothing else to say. Even this wasn't worth saying. Pissss.

My Neck Hurts And My Ear Hurts; I Have Two Ow-ies

1.) I attended the first day of stats this morning, sigh. I hate my life already. It's not even going to be hard compared to next quarter's stats. Or this quarter's methods, which is tomorrow. But I already hate my life.

2.) I returned to campus later this afternoon to hear a job talk. At one point the woman listed "remorselessness" as one of the emotional detachment symptoms of psychopathy. I silently, unnoticeably, and discreetly laughed in my head for about an hour after that.

3.) I rode my bike to and from and then again to and again from campus today, my legs are screaming at this outrage. I'm a fucking lazy ass lump and it has to end. Now.

4.) Stacey, I vote that you instead of moving to Chicago move to California. Also, you are still supposed to call me when you're not busy, ahem, remember?

5.) I've been having dreams like you wouldn't believe again. More as I can remember.

6.) And Raedy, yes JD does too care that you shouldn't kill yourself, he just is too busy working all the time, all day long every day, to update his blog. But he cares about you and wanted me to pass along this message, "Raedy, please know that I don't want you to kill yourself. That is all." Ok I made that up, but he said it so it's mostly true

7.) also, I am working on my list of things that fit into Raeyd's You Might Be A Grad Student IF...listings....I can guarantee they'll be hilarious when I post them, but until then I don't wanna give anything away.

8.) I just realized how awesome it is that i CAN ride a bike to school in JANUARY. Ho ho ho.

9.) also for Raedy: I found a personal ad for a bunny named "lulu" in the paper today. Would you like me to clip it and send it to Snickers? I know that'd be lezzy, but I thought maybe...
just let me know, k

When I Close My Eyes The Whole World Dies

Quick congrats to:

JD for getting promoted at Rickenbacker. yeah, that's already. Yeah, it kicks ass. Sure boosts morale.
Keith for getting a flight instructor job! Holy Shit!
Me, for having the balls to ride my bike to school (it's totally necessary now, I have no other means except to walk, but I am certain I will get hit by a car eventually)

And Raedy, I'm calling you tonight. Yessss

JD loves Jeeps so much he creams MY pants when he sees them

Hahahaha. I'm watching Beverly Hills 90210. I love this show. I also love Melrose Place. Just so you know.

I just woke up from a dream in which my sister and I were running from the terminator. We had gone to an event of some sort at which there were two cheese balls, I was in charge of making sure they were put away. Then, Wendy Brewster appeared to sit at the place and wait for her ride. Then Arnold and his fellow terminator Linda Hamilton appeared and chased me and Jenny through the place, then we drove recklessly to a hotel, then like idiots we were staying in two different rooms, then I realized they were there looking for us so I went tearing through the hotel trying to find Jenny and telling all these kids I was just playing hide and seek, and then I came around this weird corner and Linda H was standing there and she turned toward me like a dinosaur and sniffed the air and I took off running and I heard her say something really creepy (can't remember what now) and I jumped down the lobby's flight of stairs and ran out into the parking lot, where jenny picked me up in the car and we drove away.

I woke up kind of scared, hahahaha.

A few days ago I had a dream where I was wearing football pads and fighting a war in my old Newburgh backyard. You guys were all there. I remember thinking the reason I hadn't been hurt in the war yet was that I had football pads on. ANd then Legolas was also wearing football pads, and we were hugging before the next battle began. We were at war with these huge zombie monsters. Haahaha

We bought a couch.
Can't wait to see you all.
So far the visit roster is such:
Late February: JD's sister
March 12th-21st: Jenny and Levi

All other times: Available

The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn Is Just To Love

I am so fucking happy to be back here. It actually felt like I was coming home, and there was so much stuff I missed that I didn't even realize I missed that made me smile. Like, my bed. Oh god I love my bed. and putting my flipflops on to go get the mail. and peeing with the door open if I feel like it. and the absolute absurdity of the fear these people have of rain. and the driving, which is so fast and well-planned out and safer-feeling than anything in Indiana. And my walk in closet. And the sunshine. I don't even claim to prefer summers over winter, but I think that's all but completely permanently changed after living here through a winter. Good god it's nice here. Perfect jacket weather.

And almost as soon as I stepped off the plane, my persistent cough went away. I love it. I hope you all can come and visit and stay forever.

I did arrive here only to find myself without any checked luggage to pick up, and as the OC has a strict set of rich-people-hate-noise policies in place for the airport, it basically had shut down by the time I got to the baggage claim. But then yesterday morning a representative from Northwest in EVANSVILLE called me and asked if I wanted my bag. Like, the evansville people DIDN'T EVEN PUT IT ON THE FIRST PLANE. Sheesh. I guess I missed the point where, after I asked that it be checked and they swiped it for bombs, I was supposed to say explicitly, "please send this along with me to my final destination which is santa ana/oc" thanks evansville. You are so lame.

I have to ease back into this blog thing. I've got big plans to hit up the Ikea winter sale (50% off, whee!) once jd gets home and I have an apartment to clean. And I'm sitting around bored until Tuesday, so call and write me. Lovels.

Damn...You Shit On Everything You've Ever Loved or Even Known...Whew...Vol.9

CYBERSPACE, EARLY MORNING. Our main characters LIZ, SHANE and REALITY have decided to meet for the very last time.

SHANE: A few days before Christmas, right when Liz came into town, her, Toni, Dustin, Ashleigh Cook were out at IHOP and invited me to come after work.

REALITY: Not true. Dustin invited you, to everyone's obvious dismay.

SHANE: Dustin casually asked me some questions, with the assumption being that they'd been talking about it already—which is never good. A rule of thumb Dustin and I had developed—if he makes a joke that seems like it came from nowhere, assume that Team Sarcasm had already made the joke and he was joining along (but he was the only one willing to do it in front of the others face).

REALITY: First of all, do you think this little arrangement between yourself and your "best friend" comes as a shock to anyone? I'm sure you giggled naughtily when you thought it up, but aside from being the most transparent fucking ruse, it makes people "awkward and uncomfortable" because your supposed "best friend" is the one constantly spearheading the shit-talking before, during, and after your arrival or departure. We had been talking about it already because your supposed "best friend" Dustin gleefully announced that you had a brand new idiot plan to further fuck up your life, offered to provide us with any details anyone might be interested in knowing, and then astutely observed that he didn't understand why you were moving to LA and planning to stay with Liz and JD when you "don't really get along with them anyway." Your apparent reply was to say that both Liz and JD had been at least decent in their replies to your intentions, with Dustin countering this glimmer of hope for any kind of applied friendship with "well, you guys'll probably hate each other by the time this break is over anyway." It is just so so amazing how well your "best friend" Dustin manages to predict the happenstances of your existence.

SHANE: I tried curbing the fear-induced silence I normally have around Liz, and asker her about her flight and such.

LIZ: You are a fucking pussy. Stop trying so goddamn hard to martyr yourself because your life sucks and I don't like you.

REALITY: Your attempt at this involved you taking a quick breather from the never-ending discussion of Who You Saw The Other Day That You Went to High School With to disinterestedly ask very forced-sounding (are you just that inept?) questions of Liz, Ashleigh Elizabeth Cook, R.N., and occasionally Toni, which you immediately followed up with a very pro-social and inclusive return to talking to your "best friend" Dustin about Who You Saw The Other Day That You Went to High School With.

SHANE: This might have come across as opportunistically insincere

REALITY: Yeah? You fucking think so? That's because it WAS opportunistically insincere, and obvious and awkward to boot. Nice job all around fielding that one.

SHANE: Maybe this is the opportunity for us to finally be friends, and not friends in theory

REALITY: You need to stop acting like you've been desperately trying to befriend Liz since Day One, and that her inconsistent, inconstant, ever-changing opinion of you has little or nothing to do with You, but rather is a by-product of The Universe Conspiring Against You. There was never any theory of the two of you being friends. There was never any inkling of any type of relationship. There was never even any discussion of a friendship. Your pretended interest now (especially in light of you A. needing a favor, and a big fat one at that, and B. wanting desperately to sound as victimized as possible for the benefit of anyone who has never had the absolute displeasure of sitting in a diner booth with you and your "best friend" Dustin for any length of time who might happen upon your blog) is unnecessary, offensive, and categorically rude.

SHANE: Aside from that night, I hadn't talked to JD or Liz since I originally sent out those emails at the beginning of the month.

REALITY: This is exactly why your behavior is crass and distasteful. You begged for a favor, received a gracious response, and promptly forgot all about any further obligation you may have to seeing your end of anything through; in a conversation, in asking for a favor, in planning for your future, in taking one grain of personal responsibility and choking it down instead of flinging it, chris-kattan-style at the people who inherently like you the least but are going the furthest distance for you.

SHANE: Dustin and Toni were invited out with Liz, and when she casually asked what I was doing, she quickly followed it up with, "That doesn't mean I want you to call him."

REALITY: Because your supposed "best friend" Dustin eagerly answered, "what is Shane up to?" with, "Why, do you want me to call him?"

SHANE: She went on further to say she wasn't "impressed" with my plan (was I supposed to have brought charts and three-ringed binders?).

REALITY: Your half-baked plan to CASH OUT YOUR LIFE INSURANCE POLICY? Really?!? You're indignant that someone was unimpressed with the amount of thought that had clearly gone into what you had decided? Astounding! Just for shits and giggles' sake, what might you have included in these charts and binders? Nothing? Because you have no fucking idea what you're doing, when you're doing it, how you're going to avoid starving to death, but considered things to be completely "A-Ok" because you had one triumphant email saying that you could stay in someone's apartment if it became absolutely necessary? Bravo. Really, your obvious apathy about what Liz or any other person in the known universe (the same one that's conspiring against you, incidentally) thinks about you is inspiring.

SHANE: She hadn't even decided if she was going to let me stay

REALITY: It had been a non-issue until, surprise, your supposed "best friend" Dustin informed Liz and JD ever-so-casually that you intended to stay with them as long as possible, and that you had no intention of contributing to the expenses this would incur. Liz then said, "well, if he stays for a really long time he would have to pay something." Dustin counters with "how much is your rent?" and liz says, "$1400 a month" to which Dustin, eyes gleaming with delight, nearly shouts, "so Shane would have to pay almost $500 a month to stay with you guys?!?" At this point, various others chimed in with stories about what a shitty roommate Shane is, the money he owes them, the messes he makes, the lack of motivation to do any kind of self-improving, the shoddy work ethic, you name it. And this all combined to make Liz and JD, unsure of where Shane had initially gotten the idea that he definitely should stay with them as long as needed (rather than as a last resort as was thought to be conveyed), rethink their hasty offer of a place to crash if needed. Yes, indeed, the offer was more or less withdrawn for more careful consideration.

SHANE: God knows what inspires that knee-jerk indignation of hers

REALITY: Maybe you should ask your loyal-to-the-end "best friend" Dustin just who inspires it. Maybe you should try and see things from another person's point of view. Indignation? At the idea that you expected to become a permanent houseguest in Liz's apartment with no means of contributing financially to the household? In an arrangement already rife with monetary burdens, you are fucking indignant and surprised that people who barely tolerate you in the first place and are occasionally "kind" to you only out of pity might not want you intruding on their lives for an untold and undefined amount of time? Are you serious?

LIZ: Shane, you are a giant turd monster.

SHANE: If you're me—or anyone wanting to impose on the lives of any of her friends she's annexed—it's when you happen to exist in her presence.

REALITY: It's just you. No one else. And, let's be clear, it's not an imposition thing, it's a stomach-turning disgust thing. But more on that in a minute.

SHANE: And rest assured that the minute you leave the room she'll air our whatever grief she has with you by going through every grief she's ever had with you—all of which contain the compassionate objective non-pettiness of a Klan lynching, and most of which have been overanalyzed in her anti-social boredom from selectively (and usually negatively) remembered impressions and hearsay.

LIZ: Wow, the air is so thick with your audacious hypocrisy I can barely breathe.

REALITY: I hope you have evidence to support this, which I am guessing you do, otherwise good sense would dictate that you shut your face (if you need help, maybe your angsty weenie loser friend Ryan Vincent Mullen could assist you by sticking his dick in your mouth). And as usual, we can guess that you and your supposed "best friend" Dustin have sat around comparing notes about when Liz said what about whom, and how viciously you could interpret or misinterpret it , missing the absolute point that LIZ WOULD NEVER EVER IN A MILLION YEARS SAY A GODDAMN THING IN FRONT OF YOU THAT SHE WOULD NOT SAY TO OR IN FRONT OF THE PERSON OR PERSONS SHE WAS BITCHING ABOUT. Who the fuck do you think you're kidding? Do you really think she gets so caught up in her "all-consuming hatred" of whichever person is on the chopping block in that particular instance that she temporarily forgets that you and Dustin are eagerly lapping every morsel of it up in the hopes that someday it'll come in handy in making some sort of drama out of something that doesn't matter to anyone but the two of you just so you can later slap each other's backs and commend yourselves for being "such great friends?"

LIZ: You so badly want to think of me as a spineless, heartless, calculatingly cold fake-friend to all the people I care about, and you can dredge up any and every tiny nugget of WHATEVER you can remember me ever saying about anyone (and I'll be able to predict with ALARMING accuracy the specific on-the-fence people you'll target with this), but you miss the point that these relationships are complex, sometimes even more so than Dustin instructing you what to say, think, and feel about everything in the universe, and usually the given relationship was entered into voluntarily by both parties and no, everything is not all sunshine and kittens all the time, even though you cite such "convincing" evidence of my sullen refusal to partake in any social exchange, instead prefering to scowl sourly until the "offender" leaves so the floodgates open. Never, never again flatter yourself so much by thinking that I would include you in something that any person off the street would not also be invited to participate in. You must think you have a truly extensive stockpile of "dirt" or you wouldn't make the claim in the first place, but for future reference it is safe to say that You are the primary target of any reported outbursts. Your supposed "best friend" should have made that abundantly clear to you by now. Hmm, maybe he just tells you whatever he wants. Hmmm.

SHANE: And she'll also air out her griefs in front of your best friend, too.

REALITY: Not to invoke Mr. Belabor The Point here, but your "best friend" practically pees himself with excitement every time he smells an opportunity to encourage people to trash you behind your back.

SHANE: Then she'll wonder later where you get your "persecution complex" from

REALITY: No, she doesn't really care. Just thinks you're intensely maladjusted

SHANE: wonder on her blog why the world can't be the idealistic "eternal optimist" she is

LIZ: See above. No one forces you to read my blog, and in the midst of this oh-so-fitting, oh-so-karmically-sanctioned retaliation for all the millions of times you've felt wronged by me as you anxiously scan my blog for signs of your own name, please understand that the sweeping generalizations about love and loss and hope and despair are not written with you in mind, but instead, for people I care about. And quite often, for my own amusement, sometimes at your expense.

SHANE: then turn around and shit on everything she's ever loved or even known.

LIZ: Please, oh wise one, explain to all the rest of us how you have always and will continue to always understand -so completely it almost transcends knowledge entirely- the vastly complex and altogether mysterious -even to those involved, unlike yourself- workings of my heart, mind, or emotions, such that you find it wholly reasonable to sit back, fancying yourself comfortably seated in some sort of tower from whence you sneer down at what you perceive to be simple, or obvious, or meaningless and pass a judgement you cannot possibly have the capacity to make. No sir, you know nothing of any of the contents of my heart and you absolutely have no business referencing whatever cheap and vulgar shot you appear to be referencing with this statement. If ever I receive an inkling of proof that you are speaking to what I think you are, rest assured that I will personally see to it that you get the living shit kicked out of you. Please feel free to cite this in your suicide note. You are unequivocally craven to even presume that your mentioning this could somehow, what?

REALITY: What is it you expect to have happen? That she hears the Uncontestable Truth in your wise wise words and, suddenly violently ashamed, crumples under the weight and guilt you so hope to instill in her by tucking this in at the very end?

LIZ: How dare you slide that insipid, serpentine little remark into this vomitous mess? How dare you make these impotent little jabs, as though you think You have some power to rub my face in something that no one (myself included) had thought of doing until now? You have no business addressing these grown-up matters as though you have one iota of one speck of dust of one glimmer of a clouded understanding of what goes on in my head on a daily basis, or my comprehension of how badly and thoroughly I have hurt people I care irrationally about. How could you possibly even pretend to understand? How dare you presume to label as simple something you have only read about in books and seen in movies? And how dare you, how fucking dare you presume to tell me and mine how you think I or we should feel or react? You are an absolute coward.

SHANE: If you're reading this Liz, you might be thinking, Gee, Shane has no fucking clue what he's talking about in my life. Those were mean blanket statements of me as a person, which he barely knows. How can he do that? Now you know how I felt—nothing like public character assassinations via the web blogger, eh?

REALITY: Hey, it's safe to say that Liz couldn't care less what you have to think or say about her, that you can shout it from the mountaintops with little or none of the desired effect, and this sniveling (my, how often the word "sniveling" is associated with you, Shane) attempt to make jabs at something your "best friend" Dustin has explicitly instructed you to attack by virtue of its being a "known" weak spot in her armor is just bullshit.

LIZ: There is nothing you can say to hurt or break me. When you drag people I care for -in a way you can only hope to comprehend one day- into your petty, pointless, useless and fucking unnecessarily melodramatic attempt to get back at me for not pretending to like you, yeah, the claws come out. I hope you're acutely aware of the fact that no one on whose behalf I am speaking now has ever fucking wronged you, and your pusillanimous horseshit is not very well aimed at just Me. If you had anyone you genuinely loved in your life, rest assured that I would be directing this at them instead of you, as you live entirely in a fictional world created specifically for you by your supposed "best friend" Dustin.

And nice choice of wording with "character assassination." Don't flatter yourself. You're not telling anyone anything about me that they didn't already know, or at least suspect.

SHANE: Burn this bridge, you remorseless fucking bitch.

LIZ: Done. Done such a long time ago I'm insulted that you think that there still existed any sort of bridge for you to impose any sort of will upon. Fuck you and your pathetic last-ditch attempt to hurt my feelings.