HOLY FUCKING SHIT

Protect. Enslave. In Love.

I know, two in one day makes the whole world blind.

I talked to my mom. And I haven't talked to her in awhile. And she yakked about how someone bought her a piano. That's strange, but then she went on about the movie pay it forward. Which I haven't seen. I mentioned that she would be receiving a red dress that I tried to ship there, and that it was my bridesmaid dress for Ashleigh's wedding. She flipped out, apparently I had not told her Ashleigh was engaged? I am pretty sure that I had. Good thing I gave her a heads up on the dress, I guess. Then she started quizzing me about Scotland Plans. And I told her about This Place, In Edinburgh . How we are trying to crunch the dinero so that we can swing a couple nights in a Tim Burton movie.

Anyway. Didn't think too much about it, she oohed and aahed over the chintzy website photos. I emphasized the motherfucking expensiveness of the place. She literally clucked at me.

I just checked my email. Crazy loon-woman got us a gift certificate to the place that's the amount of one night's stay.

Holy. Shit.

Now I have to pay it forward. Or I die, right? The kid in the movie dies? I've only seen the part where he gets stabbed.

Oh, sorry: RETROACTIVE SPOILER ALERT!!!!!1

Anyway, who needs a good deed done? Hit me up for it Yo.

Now Here's The Moon, It's Alright

This blog has sucked ass lately, wouldn't you say? I don't know what to do about that. Maybe I'll go back to the photos of hot Latino men. I guess JD isn't close enough for some of you?!? He looks kind of foreign if you squint.

I feel very listless today, which sucks because I have so much reading to do I want to die. In general, I'm just kind of Blah lately. I've slept a ridiculous amount since getting back from Palm Springs. On the drive back, I took a tablet of dramamine and it knocked me out, and when we got back to irvine I slept for 12 hours, missing the office and other choice television programming to do so.

Since then, I've been sleeping incredibly deeply and having the most lucid fucking dreams. This morning my wedding and Ashleigh's were on the same day and I was trying to choose among three dresses for the two (bride, bridesmaid) I would need for the day. And there were strappy pink shoes, or these purple shoes I have in real life, and I had to think about dress length, escort height, color scheme and it was exhausting. And there was something else about a competition in which anna nicole smith was one of the contestants. It was all very dramatic.

I've come very close to begging off of some work by telling my advisor I'm having an existential crisis. I'm not sure that would actually work, but I so don't want to do the legwork for anything that it's starting to seem like a more and more attractive option. I do not understand what is wrong with me, or why I am so exhausted all the time. I'm about done with January, I think. It'll be nice to have that awfulness under our belts. Sigh. I will try to amp it up for ya'll next time. Maybe I will find stuff to talk about in the readings I need to do!