So some of the people in lab were making a big fuss about something, today. I couldn't see what, because our lab stations are puny and face-to-face so that there's no leg room. People were asking about it so my professor told us, "Oh, I caught a cockroach in a little cage and named him Pete."

I feel like, in some weird way, she and I are far more alike than I'll ever know.

Oh, and there was this kind of big spider on the floor. (By the way, I'm home right now for undisclosed reasons, but I'm commuting back in the morning for class.) Probably the size of my thumb. I saw one Post Secret a long time ago about how the person was scared of a spider and got his/her dog to eat it, AND THE DOG DIED. I said, No sir. I don't want my crazy hunter dog to think that the spider is some sort of game.

So I picked up one of my mother's loafers (yes, my mother wears loafers).


--What you need to know about me is that I was raised on baseball. My grandpa played it, he taught it to my mother and all her sisters, and she taught it to my brother and me. We guard our house with baseball bats instead of guns, but I assure you that any intruder should think twice.

...Thrice.



--I wound my arm to alleviate any dislocation my shoulder might have been experiencing (because I'm hypermobile and my shoulder is practically always experiencing dislocation) and eyed the spider thoughtfully. It eyed me thoughtfully back.

She winds up...there's the pitch...!


The shoe I threw ended up cutting the spider clean in half. I can't say I haven't witnessed something so dedicatedly accurate, before, because my friend's brother threw a knife from his patio and pinned a bird to a tree (far more depressing because a bird isn't creepy, I know, but also really impressive).

But it was pretty damn accurate. I checked the pieces, before squashing them to make sure they were dead.


GUYS DON'T BE GROSSED OUT IS WAS SO COOOOL.

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So, this weekend, I went to a Mary Kay thing at my friend's house and had some cool face stuff done. But it made my pimples come back. Before then I just had the few dots I get for a few days every month. Now I have so many that I'm honestly kind of confused.

Silly products. That's why I stick with my regimen and don't trust anyone else's advice as far as my face goes. It defies all logic, anyway, and most people have normal, logic-abiding face skin. Why would I listen to them? I have the anti-face.

So, anyway, now I have pimples worse than I have ever had in my life.

It's okay, though. All things are temporary.


After the facials (and some other small things), Meagan, Sarah and I went out on the town. We first tried to kidnap Seth from his dorm room, but the security there is actually pretty good. Or, it was when we arrived. Of course his phone was also dead.

So we gave up.

Then we ate and rode off into the night to buy colorful wigs. Or, that wasn't the intention, but it worked out so that we were all wearing ridiculous, cheap, colorful wigs by around midnight.

When I finally got back home around 2:10, the house was dark and I had the blue wig that belonged to my friend Meagan. She had my hot pink one. I had her plaid shirt, and somewhere in all that my friend Sarah was wearing a long, curly, white-blonde wig, saying "Long hair don't care" in response to just about everything.


The amazing thing is that my friends and I honestly don't need alcohol to be this stupid. Maybe it helps (I wouldn't know, I stay away from alcohol), but it certainly isn't the main cause.


The next day, I met some friends at a local restaurant favorite for kids my age. Before we walked in, my friend Araam and I were talking about how there were only two girls coming including me, and that my luck dictated that the other female would cancel.

Once we got inside, she did.

Of course! Life is funny like that.

But hey, that was okay. I like having time with just guys. I've always appreciated males because they're usually so stable on the outside. Even if all sorts of things are going on inside. That sort of calmness and restraint makes me so glad to be around them. We made perverted jokes the whole time and talked about whatever. Nothing was awkward except the intentionally awkward. All the guys ordered the same dish, and I ended up the only one with a burger.

Later, I drove Seth and Araam back to my house and some others came for movie night. We watched Watchmen, which people seemed to enjoy. Araam told everyone to cover their eyes during the sex scene. Seth, under the blanket with me (as Araam instructed for eye-coverage), suggested, "I wonder what Araam's doing while all our eyes are covered."

Even though his intent was obvious, I quietly whispered, "Fapfapfapfapfap."

We both laughed, which led to a hand check. We feebly raised our hands under the blanket. "I ONLY SEE ONE," said Sarah. I uncovered our hands so she could see them all.

Unfortunately, she also couldn't see my face. So she gave me a face check.

I don't know why he and I can't laugh without getting a hand check. The blanket is practically see-through. If I were to even want to try anything, I would know that the blanket my own mother knitted was not a safe zone.

Argh.

After everyone left, he and I popped in another movie and watched that distantly until around two in the morning. I like having a bunch of people around, but it's also great to hang out with just one person. It's nice, being able to talk and laugh with an old friend. I've known him since I was fourteen, after all.

Once the movie ended, I had to drive him back to his dorm. The windshield was fogged up from the cold and my contact was dried out, so here I was leaning forward like an old timer, one eye winking violently, driving 15 in a 25 zone.

He was fantastic at ignoring how preposterous I looked.


Also, my shoes came in. They're fugly, but I feel better when I wear them. Plus, I wore a Hooters shirt and my favorite jacket with them, today, so I felt hot enough to pull them off. My hair was all light and blowing in the wind. It was fantastic.

My roommate, of course, was totally miffed about my shoes. She thinks they are the ugliest things ever and that my walking differently is personally offensive to her. After a while, she threw a discarded bustier at me and told me to "get sexy."

WELL IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT, BUDDY.

The best quote I took down, last week:

�First off we ain�t no damn universidad, we a college.�


Oh, and I found a parking spot closer to my dorm. Pros: less walking distance between there and my dorm, closer proximity to the police. Cons: less well-lit and more visibility from the street. I'm not sure whether I want to stay there or not. Something just told me, tonight, to park in the closer lot. I guess I'll never know whether my intuition was onto something or not.


Oh, and I still plan on transferring. Meagan and I are planning on getting a two-bedroom apartment down there and starting a small business. We're smart, capable, good-looking women. Why not?

Oh, and we're looking for a place that allows pets. I want a cat.

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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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"Careful when you date passionate people, because passion swings both ways. Sometimes they'll love you, but other times they'll hate you. And when they hate you...boy do they hate you."

- youtube user "thejdspot"


I'm been kind of stressed, lately...? It's like I keep thinking of things I want to say but I can't compose my thoughts. Everything is so loud around here. I can't hear myself think. I used to have a fix for that sort of scrambled feeling, but now I'm in a new place without that hand to hold, so to speak.

I remember the week before I got an MRI, I couldn't retain information at all. I was stumbling around, and it was this odd feeling of being in a fog, how you can't quite see as far as you feel like you should be able to. I could think, but I couldn't quite grasp at the thoughts. (We assumed later that I was poisoned by an accidental overexposure one of the typical chemicals we have around the house, when the MRI came up clean.) Toward the end of the week, I encountered that fix.

And I'll tell you, that was the clearest I'd thought all month, much less all week.

Just something I've been thinking about. Since I'm one of those immensely passionate people who can't take something like that lightly. I'm a strong believer in staying with what works.


My roommate and I exercised, yesterday. I did about four miles. Today, I went alone and hit about seven. I feel so accomplished. It's just annoying knowing that my cramps completely kicked my ass, today. I should have stretched more thoroughly.

I'm thinking of taking Spanish seriously. Like, in a conversational form. Apparently they're flagging all the resumes with conversational Spanish-speakers in my projected field.

So. It would be nice to have a really good chance at a job. I'm going to attack French and Spanish with full force, then work my way through all the other languages at a less insane pace.

I can tell you that, next semester, I'll be taking them both if I can. Coming out of college trilingual or higher with the two more highly-used languages in the US in my back pocket sounds good to me.

I have a math test coming up and didn't do too spectacularly on my chemistry test. Next time, I'll be ready. I've been doing pretty well in trig, but the math questions are kind of difficult to interpret.

And I think I might have to go home on a lot of the weekends coming up. I'm getting shoes (urgent) and maybe seeing an old friend (super urgent) this weekend, then next my friend won free facials for all of us and then hopefully I get to see a friend of mine maybe...? Oh, and I'm moving some of my stuff into my mom's new house from my dad's house and grabbing some stuff I want to save (because moving usually kills stuff pretty hardcore). Then, the next weekend is my mom's birthday (spoken for itself), then the next is fall break. I'm going to try to stay at the dorm as often as possible (as in, I'm going to try to at least spend one night there during the weekend whenever I can), but it's rough!



I think we're all really lucky to have experienced any one of the five senses. We don't think about how great it is nearly enough.


There's my huge blahblahblah for the time being.

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