Every Five Minutes

Today's drink... WATER!

I'm sick like a monster. (Do monsters get sick?) Crying makes my throat raw, and therefore makes me sick.

Maybe I'm so sick it feels like a monster is ravaging my poor little body. Not that it's particularly poor or little. Huh.

I'm hoping to get a call back on several things, including a potential car, my settlement woman on word of how exactly I'm going to pay thus mentioned new car... etc. Mostly car stuff.

I watched Julie and Julia this weekend and it made me want to be a professional writer more than any craving I've recently had. I studied rather voraciously last night and about every five minutes found myself asking God if I could just go pro (writer) and stop everything else. I think he probably just smiled at me and told me to keep at it.

It's time to get back to "the schedule." I have a little spreadsheet of all the times and places and things that I need to accomplish. That sentence didn't make any sense.

Why is it that some days I feel inspired to write something brilliant, and others I feel like a nerd-ball and that I have nothing funny or particularly interesting to say? That's frustrating. I don't like to hear the danglings of anyone's thoughts any more than I can imagine they'd want to read mine.

Although today is Monday, I'm not particularly exhausted (which is a big deal). However, I don't particularly want to do anything, which isn't so rare. My mind is other places. I'm thinking of good things, but I'd rather be sitting in a coffee shop and writing about them than sitting in my office and wondering about them.

A funny story about Joanna and I shall follow later in the day, or perhaps the week. I can't do it justice at this moment.

To the few of you that actually read this, I love, neigh, adore you.

Fast Food and Death

Today's drink is diet coke.

I'm embarrassed to admit that it's accompanied by fast food. I haven't eaten fast food in like a year or more.

Fast food makes me sick almost instantly. Yep, I can feel the headache sneaking up on my brain at this very moment.

Got final numbers on a settlement on my car. They're over twice what I *hoped* in my wildest dreams to get. I'm kinda blown away. I might not have major loans for long... And then I can pay off school and then I can be RICH RICH RICH and be totally independent for the rest of my life.

I'm kidding. Nice thought, though.

I cut and colored my hair this morning. It's still dark brown-ish but WAY shorter and looks kinda like mom hair. I like it. I don't like the $80 it cost me.

Boys often say that they want a girl with long hair so they can have something to "hold onto."

A. Gag me

B. Hold ME and don't pull my hair, ri-tard (as they say in The Hangover)

What else... It's FRIDAY! WOO! Maybe I'll have a car by the end of the weekend. One can hope, right?

I feel like a lard. Maybe I'll work out. Actually, I'll probably just walk to my car really fast and hope for the best.

Britta

Britta Horsfall, I love you. You deserve fields of roses and not just a bouquet. You deserve handfuls of treasure and not a gold coin. You are a bride and not a servant girl.

You are loved. Forever and to the moon and back a thousand times.

The Nightmare Category

This week has been pushing the nightmare category. I've been part of multiple relationships that have gone from heaven to hell in a matter of hours. Damn. This week needs to die. And then die again. And again.

I'm tired. My soul is tired.

I look like I have a cold because the skin below my nose is cracking due to an abundance of tears. Very attractive.

I woke up this morning thinking it was Sunday and was shocked to realize that it was- holy cow- the busiest morning of the week.

Laura and Ryan Kee came to visit last night. Wow. It's so wonderful to see old friends. I miss those two so much. They are the ultimate yuppies and I love it.

I've been blogging a lot this week. By the way, when people write "alot" I want to scream. A lot. Not so hard. You have a lot of sheep. You have a lot of land. Two words. Lot is a noun. Alot isn't a word. Just sayin.

I think this weekend will consist of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and a butt load (yes, a real NASA term) of studying. And sleeping (because I really haven't done that all week). And cleaning my room. And trying to find a car. Ugh. There goes my weekend.

I want to go swing dancing in Denver instead. Maybe buy some stuff, just because I like doing that. Maybe drive around my favorite neighborhoods on the West Side at night just so I can see the city, my jewel box, and be silent for a while. I miss silence.

Summer

My life is 500 Days of Summer, and I am Summer.

And sometimes she's a horrible bitch. Sometimes she doesn't know what she wants. Eventually she completely leaves because he'll never, ultimately be happy with her, just as she couldn't be (happy and at peace) with him.

With no true explanations, she's gone.

Maybe that's why the movie made me cry. But the movie ended. And the memory of Summer died.

Some old men are such sick.freaking.bastards.

I just had to say that.

Caramel Macciato

Today.

I would love nothing more than to escape to the mountains which are a mere ten minutes from my office. I'd love to escape myself, to escape the difficult parts of the last two weeks. Because wow. The heart hurts in places I didn't know existed.

I ache for the jump I make into relationships and the hurt that is inevitably caused on both sides.

I cried for probably 4 or 5 hours yesterday. I didn't sleep last night.

Honesty is a brutal thing. And even if you beg God's mercy, there's not always something you can do to "fix" things. That breaks me. It's a raw, messy and sad place to be. So I lift it up. That's all I can do. I'm not going to cry again. I've decided. I might change my mind soon. But staining my face with mascara was not on the to-do list today. Those things are never on the to-do list.

I'm so tired I could cry again. Exhaustion sure messes with your brain.

My car is officially totaled. I miss it already. That car sure had a lot of accidents. Maybe it just wasn't supposed to be mine. I have no idea and no explanations. Ugh. The whole thing freaking HURTS. Not just the car. The last two weeks.

Reading Colossians. Praying that over myself and those in my life.

I feel like someone put out their cigarette on my heart. I'm tired of scars.