So my friend Sarah decided that she was going trick-or-treating. We're both quite blatantly eighteen, so there was that obvious worry about people asking the dreaded, "Aren't you a bit old to be trick-or-treating?"

I told her, "When they ask if you're a bit old to trick-or-treat, ask them, 'Aren't you a bit old to be ALIVE?'"

Even my mom appreciated the quip.

She thought it was tasteless, but she still appreciated it.

Sarah picked me up at my mom's house and we met her boyfriend, Joey, and her boyfriend's neighbor, Buddy, in her neighborhood. Both of them are nice, but I've never really spent time with either.

So we hit four houses, then gave up because it was SO late and went to McDonald's for some food. We sat there and talked for more than an hour, then went back to her house and talked even more. THEN, she dropped the boys off after looking for deer and we talked alone the whole way to my house.

That was oddly nice. I've known Sarah for a good nine or so years, now, and we've been on and off good friends.

Just...

It's nice to have My People. You know? Friendship is sort of fantastic, and I'm always thankful for those I have to talk to.

Plus, guess what! Her boyfriend is actually nice and interesting, which I never knew (because I didn't ever really talk to him)! They're almost to three years, so that's super exciting news!


Okay and also. I've been trying to find a job and the search SUCKS.

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My dad wanted me to see a psychiatrist after I withdrew (no penalty) from college. Today I finally went to the one my dad found for me; the guy is supposed to be one of the best diagnosticians in the area.

He told me three things:

1) He isn't worried about my anxiety problems. Basically, he told me that it would be a waste to treat me for something that rarely happens, and only stays for a couple of minutes.

2) He has a couple of ideas, but in general, he's unsure of how to treat what IS affecting me. Mostly because he isn't sure what that thing affecting me IS. He told me to go home and do some research, then come back to him with my thoughts.

3) I'm controlled with my emotions to the point where it makes his job more difficult. People only tell me that when they actually listen.


My dad laughed when I told him that his recommended psychiatrist kind of sent me away with a shrug of his shoulders. He told me he wondered if this was the first patient he didn't know how to treat.



I'm almost kind of proud of myself.


AND HOW ARE YOU?

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Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

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My hair keeps twirling around my earrings and it's getting super obnoxious.

TIME TO PUNCH MY HAIR. OR MY EARS.


So Sarah went with me to get my ears pierced, the other day. It was pretty cool, because I was totally fine without my mother around. I guess I'm kind of canine like that. If the people around me are chill, I'm chill. If they're anxious, I'm anxious.

But whatever. They're pierced (my ears, not the people I'm around). Again. Last time was just bad luck...they both got really infected just after I took them out and I couldn't get other earrings in. It was a bunch of poop.

It's going to take a few months for me to take them out because I like to be sure that they've healed.

And after that...I get to indulge in all the dangly earrings I've stocked up on.

YUM!


In other news, my mother is moving out, Monday. I've been thinking more on who I'm going to visit when. I was considering living with Mom during the week and Dad over the weekends, but then I like to have friends over, sometimes, on the weekends, and I don't want to seem like I'm using him and his house. Parents aren't just there to buy stuff, contrary to popular belief. Not that I even have a lot of things that I would like.

Just a couple of Christmas presents to potentially last me till I'm grey. Whatever my parents don't get me, I'll sooner or later get around to buying myself. Honestly, I'm more concerned about what to get them. They're...hard to buy for.

My mom always asks for socks. My dad always says he doesn't care and can buy himself whatever he wants.

When you're unwrapping a present from someone...unless it's a customary gift thing where you bring whoever hosts you in his or her home a token of appreciation, or whoever hosts a party a bottle of wine...

It's nice to have that person unwrapping something, too.



But I guess Christmas is going to be weird, anyway, since I'll be hitting two houses instead of one.


Eyes feel sleepy, Sunday is my car cleaning day, INCLUDING A WASH AND VACUUM. I am such a loving mommy.


But, you know, my womb doesn't exist, as far as any men/probing relatives/my mother (WHICH YES IS PLURAL K THANKS) are concerned.

JUST FOR MY CAR.



DEVIOUS CHARLES, MY LOVE FOR YOU IS FOREVER.

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