drowning

I'm so unhappy right now I can't breathe.

And I feel so alone.

choices

I woke up this morning wondering if or how my life would have been different had I made different decisions in life. What if I had dated my first grade crush? What if I'd been more adamant about Stacie driving too fast? What if I'd pursued English as a major instead of anthropology? Where would I be now? Would I have a family by now? Would I be teaching English literature in high school? Would I be able to pick up the phone and call my best friend today? Or would I still be sitting somewhere wondering if things could have been different? I guess we can always play the what-if game in our heads. I guess that's the purpose of fiction--to live the life we can't live today, to be someone we aren't. But what happens when you wake up one day and you don't know what path you're on? Or why you chose that particular path? Or why you should keep walking? What happens when you can't find a reason to wake up again tomorrow?

one half

I miss her.

I miss her so much.

It's almost 4am and I have a midterm tomorrow that I haven't studied for yet. All I can think about is her. How much I want to hear her voice, hug her one more time. But I never will again.

I'm falling apart. I'm broken on the inside.

She was half of me. The other half of my soul. We had the relationship that people dream of having their whole lives but don't believe it exists because no one ever gets to experience it. But we had it. We were soul mates in the truest form. Our friendship knew no bounds. For those of you who think of friendship and love in conventional norms, you will never be able to understand what we had. From hundreds of miles away we could feel each other's pain, feel each other's happiness. We didn't need a phone to speak to each other. But she always knew when to call. She always knew when I needed her most. And in my worst moments, I can still feel her next to me, telling me to dry my tears, that it will be alright. She is still near me, but she is so, so far away. In its purest sense, we loved each other. We were half of each other.

And now I am one half. I am hollow inside. I am broken. And I cannot function.

No, I'm not okay, so don't ask. I have been sleepwalking through life for the last two weeks. I am angry. I am in denial. I am numb. I am in so much pain I cannot breathe. I cannot sleep. I wake from nightmares I cannot remember.

My very being has been ripped in half. It's not natural. It feels like there is a tear in the very fabric of the universe. It's not right. This isn't right. We are not supposed to exist without the other.

It's not okay. It won't ever be okay. It won't ever get better. Life may go on, but what's the point. Everything is off. The colors look funny, the sounds are distant, and the people seem weird. Everything is bland and numb. I wasn't meant to live without her.

You don't get it. That's okay. No one does. She is the only person who ever did or will ever know how I truly feel. She is the only person who understands what this feels like. I know because I can feel her pain, too.

ape shit

IT'S

NOT

FUCKING

FAIR!!!!!!!!!

Going Bananas

How are you supposed to spend the rest of your day when the first phone call you received that morning was to inform you that your best friend for life is dead?

She's gone.

And I don't know how to function without her.

squished bananas

has your world ever fallen to shit?
mine just did.

but not in that "the-world-blew-up-and-i-picked-myself-up-dusted-off-my-jacket-and-became-a-stronger-person" way.

mine just blew up in a "everyone-point-their-fingers-and-tell-me-how-i-fucked-it-up-fucked-everything-up-just-like-i-always-fuck-everything-up" way.

i'm kinda numb right now.
numb and nauseous.

all alone in the moonlight

remember when you used to be excited to talk to me on the phone?

sleepless ape

I did that stupid thing again where I take a nap at 9pm and wake up at 1am disoriented and trapped in infomercial hell. I could be crunching thesis data like I was supposed to do this week, but instead I'm considering dialing 1-800-You-Got-Hosed and purchasing some ballet bar-yoga-pilates gadget-system. As a 5'2" tomato on toothpicks, they have convinced me that I can look like a ballet-dancer in 2 weeks. No it's true. They said so.

This is how they get you...you're tired and disoriented, you're defenses are down, you're agreeable to almost anything...it's just not a good situation for your wallet.

Ah, gotta go, Anderson Cooper's on. Mhmm... that man is H-O-T.

...need a napkin...think I'm drooling on myself a little bit...

say what?

okay, i just mispelled the word "coming" in my last post and when i spell checked it, the spell-checker gave me the option of "cumming."

does that sorta bother anyone?
what are you people blogging about?
not qvc and dvds, that's for damn sure.

mail-order companionship

remember those netflix commercials where the movie characters were at the people's house waiting for them?.... i just realized that netflix was doing some pretty ingenious marketing. they were targeting lonely people who have nothing better to look forwards to than a movie each night.

brilliant.

just thinking about coming home to a good movie got me excited. this is, of course, how i came to realize i am one of those lonely people. but i don't have to be...a solution is at hand! i am going to sign up for some mail-order dvds. then i'll never have another boring evening alone again! genius.

hey, it beats cnn, qvc, or jam'n with jesus which are currently my only other options of non-readable entertainment.

blog-n-shop

I don't know what's more pathetic:
a) there is a blog forum on qvc.com
b) I was actually on qvc.com
c) I read the blogs on qvc.com
d) I'm blogging about the blogs on qvc.com

This is what happens when you stay up til 5am procrastinating.

ape*bumps

I just managed (somewhat accidently) to use my thesis title in a sentence.

And even more beautiful...it was the last sentence of my 4 page intro.

Gut-clenching creativity at its best.

(Chills.)

Spinning

so much work to do. so much work done. so much more to do.

read articles for thesis. type bib for work. type article summary for thesis. read articles for class. type photo log for work. read chapters for class. find another article for thesis. prepare presentation for class. get books for work. type summary of presentation for class. read more chapters for other class. locate articles online for work. type lit review for thesis. meeting with prof for advise. class for 10 hours. call best friend. edit lit review for thesis. call sister. submit thesis proposal. edit thesis proposal. resubmit thesis proposal. reedit thesis proposal. prepare for thesis proposal defense. pack for work trip. gather articles to read for class. thesis. thesis. thesis. work. thesis. class. thesis. thesis. thesis.

i know how much longer i can stay on this ride.

blueblood

there's no way. it's just not doable. it's not possible. no matter how hard i try to cram the pieces together, the puzzle won't work. there's just not enough time.

i fucked up. i fucked it all up. school. my life. i royally fucked it up. i'm a royal fuckup.

when i think about it i lose the ability to breathe properly. when i think about it i am clouded by a numbing calm.

and all i can think about is how bad i seem to fuck everything up. always.

sure there are other options. but i have wasted so much time, so much energy, so much half-assed effort. i have wasted so much. it was such a waste. i am a waste.

party animal

sometimes i feel like i'm so full of bullshit it's ridiculous. i seriously thought i could do this. i really thought i would be able to pull off both masters without a hitch. but the gods honest truth: i just don't have it in me.

seriously. honestly.

i know...i know. toot your horns. toss the confetti. she's having another pity party. i would like to. i would love to have just 5 minutes to have a completely supported full blown paranoid anxiety crisis oh my divine my world is going to blow up bonified break down. problem is, everyone is just telling me to get the fuck over it, that i did this to myself so shut up and just do it.

no one is letting me have my party.

and i need it.

because deep down i know i can't do this. it's just not in me anymore. i don't think it ever was.

the mating tree

given my extraordinary culinary talents, i tend to eat out alot. last week i was at the local KFC placing my healthful dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. a truck driver waiting on his order asked me where i was from. he said my accent sounded funny. the cashier agreed. i'm from the coast. "yeah, you don't sound like you're from around here." huh? so chit chat chit chat...i get my order and on my way out the door the second cashier asked me where my husband was. i'm not married. "you?!...can i be your husband?" tell you what, if my current man fails his trial test, i'll look you up.

tonight i went back for dinner (okay, so i may have an addiction to mash potato bowls...step one: admit your problem) after i placed my order, red-shirt dude waiting for his looks at me and says "where are you from?" sigh...here we go again. cashier laughs "yeah i can tell you're not from here." (mind you these are two completely different ppl from my previous visit). chit chat chit chat...out the door. red-shirt dude is getting into his car two spaces down from me. he hollers "can i ask you question? how old are you?"...."are you single?" no. "oh well i was wondering if you were interested in exchanging numbers" (what part of no didn't you understand, dude) i smiled and told him he should have asked me some months before. then he says (i know...dude just let it go) "well, if doesn't work out look me up" so i (ever so sarcastically) said, yeah, i'll meet you here, at KFC.

so, in sum, if you are looking for a date or even a husband apparently you should be hanging out at your local KFC and not the bars as previously believed. one note of caution though, they don't get out much. they think folks from as far as an hour away "sound funny."

the bananas hit the fan

today was supposed to be my day off. my day to wash clothes, read some articles for class, and relax. nothing doing.

had a meeting with Big Wig this moring. Big Wig says I can't graduate. that none of the classes i have taken in the last two years are valid and that i have to stop taking CHS classes immediately and finish my thesis. problem being is that i'm 3 classes short of graduating in CHS (including 2 classes i'm currently taking) and said classes are only offered once a year.

fuck that.

i was not overly elated with her news. i pointed out that if it is such a dramatic problem of me graduating with 2 masters at one time someone should have alerted me. "we did".......Big Wig says. i pointed out that their alert came a full year after i had been admitted into the second masters program. "well you should have stopped taking classes in both depts." yeah well the problem is that no one ever told me to stop persuing both masters...in fact i was told to go ahead. "well you shouldn't have been able to register." never had a problem...no red-flags. "we've discontinued you from CHS last fall semester." no, check your records...i took a leave of absence that semester for illness. "oh..." seems to me YOU fucked up. not me.

so after 2 hours of Big Wig subltly insinuating that i'm a horrible student because it has taken me so long to write a thesis (it was her way of covering her ass) she finally benevolently graces me with a "special" favor.
(my ass...she was stuck between a banana and an angry hungry gorilla.) bottom line: i have less than a month and a half to bang out a thesis.

i spent the whole day running around campus like crazy in 100 degree heat filling out forms, paying for graduation shit, talking to profs, and getting signitures all in order to meet a deadline at 5 that i didn't know i had at 9.

and i've had a migrane since 7 am.

wanna hear about the pinched nerve in my neck?
or about my stupid car?

yeah, i'm tired of hearing about it too.

social creatures

well once again i have magically managed to stay up way too late while wasting hours working on a completely senseless project (such as making the background of my blogspot look pretty). which means that i will be extremely tired tomorrow morning for my all-important fate-deciding meeting meeting with the Big Wig regarding my graduation situation.

i'm so sleepy but the idea of going to bed is somewhat depressing. boyfriend is out of town (again) and had been for some time now. and he's not going to be back for a while. i'm on the verge of going absolutely crazy without him. all i want to do is snuggle into bed next to him. but i can't because he's not here and that totally sucks.

don't get me wrong. it's not as bad as it could be. i mean i'm not laying in the fetal position in the middle of the living room floor or anything. i do have things i'm supposed to be doing (i.e. homework and thesis research)...but yuck.

i just didn't realize how much i was going to miss him. i didn't realize how much i can't stand to be away from him (latcher?...what, huh?). i'm supposed to be the cool independent woman who enjoys being by herself and isn't bothered by spending a few days on her own. and i do. and i'm not.

but when it comes down to it, i feel like half of me is missing.

i'm such a ba"boob"

my car has a hose leak which is causing it to pour water all over the floor of the passenger side. the end result is a soaking wet floor that has been baking in a hot car. =stinky mildew smelling car. so i, the genius, decided to roll down the passenger side window (ironically here, it's the only window that works) and let my car dry out. genius.

an hour later i am horrified to hear hurricane force rains pelting on the roof of my apt. now instead of the passenger floor being wet, the whole entire right side of my car is soaking wet.

stupid monkey! stupid monkey!

traveling

we fluff it with cupcakes and cokes and diamond rings and nice clothes and fancy cars. but the bottom line is that life is basic.

it's not complex. it just is.

it's not beautiful. it's not ugly. it's n0t easy. it's not hard. it just is.

it doesn't care if your happy. it doesn't care if your sad. it doesn't care if your joyous. it doesn't care if your mad.

life goes on. it doesn't celebrate with you when you feel like you can fly. it doesn't stop when your hurt, when you feel like there's a hole in your soul.

it's not biased. it's not emotional. it doesn't wait. it doesn't pass us by. it just is.

it's a simple, non-complex process. it moves for all. not for the individual. it's something we all do, regardless of whether we want to or not.

it's a journey with no destination. there is not a multitude of paths. for they are all one.

no matter what our mode of transportation. no matter the obstacles we place within it. no matter how we choose to live it. no matter. it doesn't matter.

it travels on.

glorious evolution

at what point did the simple task of buying vanilla ice cream become so darn difficult?!

vanilla bean, home-churn vanilla, extra-churn vanilla, slow-churn vanilla, reduced-fat vanilla, fat-free vanilla, fat-free vanilla bean, sugar-free vanilla, sugar-free, fat-free vanilla, no sugar added vanilla, homestyle vanilla, french vanilla, carb-free vanilla....

the list goes on and on.

what the hell happened to plain ole' vanilla?!

i ended up with fat-free, slow-churned vanilla.

it tasted like Pepto Bismol.

millions of years of evolution and i end up with ice cream that tastes like an antacid.

slooooow progress

a task that should have taken me all of 5 minutes to do has taken up the better part of the night. three pages....that's all i have to type. i'm almost done but dear divine, it's killing me. half of the problem is that i'm tired and my brain isn't working at full capacity and half of the problem is that i just can't get in the mind-set to write this fucker. i keep waiting for the "flow" but it just ain't happening tonight. the other half of the problem (yeah, at 4 am there are three halves to this equation) is that the sexiest man alive is snoozing on my couch and all i want to do right now is snuggle up in bed next to him.

jesus, i'm tired. perhaps i should take a break and get a few hours of sleep. maybe my brain will work better rested. i'm just worried that once i go to sleep, i'll lose the ounce of will i have to complete my task. 20 pages down and i only have three left. i know i can do this. i need to cowboy the fuck up and just do it.

fuck it. i'm laying out the bedroll.
i'll don my chaps on tomorrow.

the good news and the better news

good news
i attempted to sort things out with Lindy. she attempted to swing below the belt. i told her (ever so politely) to go eat a bowl of fuck. good riddance drama-queen.

the better news
a poll on aol said that 78% (of 17,000+) voters want the spice girls to reunite. sweetness.

the weigh-in

I realized today that this silent war with “Lindy” (yeah, that’s right…all names have been changed in order to blah blah blah) is subconsciously stressing the shit out of me. (Touché, yea!, one for her.) Apparently, like it or not, I am going to have to evaluate the future of our friendship’s “happily ever after.” And as is typical with all major life-altering assessments, I am obligated to weigh my pros and cons.

PROS
--When she is a good friend, she is a great friend (when you read into this, I’m not quite sure which category this one is supposed to fall into)
--she’s fun to hang out with
--she makes me laugh
--she’s a good listener
--she helps me through shit
--we run with the same troop (i.e. we have a lot of the same friends)
--she always drives to the bar


CONS
--she undermines my self-esteem
--she has a volatile personality
--she’s not happy unless I act like her lap-dog, who she likes to keep on a very short leash
--she’s superglued to “Zadam” (don’t get me wrong, he is a good ape. And quadrapedalism is fun and fine, but for the love of the divine, once and a while exercise the bipedal skills evolution gave you! sheesh!)
--she’s a control freak
--she’s a banana thrower…she likes to start shit
--I’ve lost some fellow apes (and their respect) because I put up with her shit
--the drama…good divine, the drama


As you can see, this is one tough verdict. The truth of the matter is that being her pal stresses the fuck outta me. But on the other hand, she is one of my best gal pals and I miss hanging out with her. In reality, if this were a dating relationship, I would have dropped her ass a long time ago and never looked back. It’s amazing how little we will put up with from potential mates, but how much extra shit we overlook in the name of friendship. Perhaps a lot of this is my own fault…for not standing up for myself sooner and telling her to back the fuck off. Perhaps I should have been more assertive, more aggressive. Who knows…?

Upon hearing the tale, my pal “Violet” described Lindy as poison. I think Violet has a very valid point. Ultimately, being around Lindy kills me a little bit each day. But she is an addictive poison…I’m not saying I won’t have DT’s. But I guess, as with any poisoned relationship, you just have to know when to put your foot down and walk away.

one is the lonliest number

Gone are the days of productive independence that I gained and cherished post-Paul. I used to fill my days and nights…entertaining myself with paper writing, home décor rearrangement, and mindless movie watching.

I was motivated. I was moving. I was lonely.

And where am I now?........

Alone in my apartment. Writing?....no. cleaning?....no. rearranging?....no. watching a gripping movie?....nope, not even the one that’s two days past due.

I’m bored and I’m pouting about it.

New dude has come along and I have, with certainty, lost all means of independence. Perhaps it’s because I’m stuck in the Hub of Hell alone…no friends to call. Or perhaps it’s because I’m a latcher.

Latcher—one who cannot be by oneself when with another

I don’t want to be a latcher. Latchers are annoying. They drive you insane. Being in a relationship with a latcher is like wearing a spandex bodysuit that’s a size too small…all you can think about is pealing the damn thing off so you can breathe a bit. “Get off me”…”Get a life”…and “GO AWAY’ are the only words that resound in your head when with a latcher. Latchers are terrible.

Now that said….I was going to force myself to be productive and at least clean my bedroom. I was actually on my way….until a pal knocked on my door and asked me if I wanted to join in on some billiards and adult beverages. So while not being independently productive, I at least can go have a bit of fun tonight. I can say I did more than mope while new dude is out of town. And by not moping I can reassure myself that I am in fact not a hideous latcher. I can’t be. I can’t be because I AM GOING OUT TO HAVE SOME FUN WITHOUT NEW DUDE DAMN IT!

…unless of course, I am latching on to my pals…………….shit.

ms. bitchalicious

it's a beautiful day outside and i'm in a fairly foul mood.
this is most likely ode to the fact that it's mardi gras and all my friends are partying their asses off while i'm stuck here in the Hub of Hell.
there are things i could be doing today. productive things. like cleaning my apartment before the health department pays me a visit and shuts me down. i could rearrange my bedroom so that i have a square inch in which to walk (crawling across my bed in order to reach the other side of the room just isn't cutting it for me anymore). i could be sorting through mounds of unworn clothes that i have accumulated over the past 10 years and donating them to goodwill so that i can hang the 5 shirts i do wear in my closet. or i could visit walmart so that i don't have to endure another meal of raman noodles and tunafish. or (best of all) i could be a responsible student and work on a paper or two.
but i've already made excuses for all of these things: lack of motivation, lack of funds, broken neck, etc.....
thus, it looks as though i'm doomed to waste yet another day of my life due to laziness.
i guess you just have to work with what you're given.

they always come in 3's

...and in no particular order....

problem 1: the best pal break-up
recently one of my best pals had an overload of stress and went all pompeii on my ass. not cool. the reason why is understandable...she's under alot of stress....i'm under alot of stress...everyone's under alot of stress. but her behavior is inexcusable. she has been an utter bitch for the last month....well, honestly she's been a bitch for the 4 years i've known her, but this last month has been absolutely intolerable. don't get me wrong...when she's a good friend, she's a great friend. but when she looses her shit she's hard to handle. plus she's a bit harsh on the self-esteem, even on a good day. but i've been friends with her for a long time. we've been through some rough shit. and for four years i've always taken the moral high ground and sucked it up, let it roll off my back and told myself "that's just how she is." now.....i just can't do that anymore....i can't make any more excuses for her or her behavior. i'm not a fighter....i believe that one must choose her battles. i don't like to flex the bitch muscle. but i think it's time i stand up for myself...thus, this is a battle i must fight.

but how do you do you break up with one of your best pals? especially one you have to work with too? since the blast, we've run into each other twice...both time a little awkward but civil. and to make matters more complicated....i'm supposed to be her maid of honor in her wedding which takes place in 4 months. well, i was. don't really know what's going to happen. i don't really know what to do. what to say. how to end it. how to save it. how do you break up with a best friend?


problem 2: about a boy
it's inevitable that in my life, i will always find exactly what i want. unfortunately for me, it's always exactly what i can't have. i don't think i'm one of those "want what i can't have" type people...rather i think i'm just a product of bad luck.

the boy. mmm. awesome. everything i've always wanted. and there is definitely interest from both parties involved (well, maybe not the third). but the situation is complicated. i swore i'd never do this to myself again, but here i am. i have no regrets. i'm just confused. and a little frustrated. and my best friend in the whole wide world (not the aforementioned pal) is being completly unsupportive. she keeps calling me naive and stupid. she's just looking out for me. maybe she's right. but i hope she's wrong.

i feel like i'm playing the waiting game. waiting for the tide to turn in my favor. they say good things come to those who wait. but how much time should one invest in the "good thing" waiting room?


problem 3: the goddamn thesis
i have one month to finish my thesis if i want to graduate this semester. i have yet to complete my proposal. yet to defend my proposal. yet to write my thesis. yet to defend my thesis. it has to be at least 80 pages. i have less than 20.

damnation.

i have lost all interest in writing said thesis. i don't give a shit about said thesis. i'm tired of thinking about said thesis. i wish said thesis would fucking write itself.