So! In the exciting thrill ride that is my health, I had a CAT scan last week and then paid a little visit to my friend the ENT, who informed me that my lymph nodes are, in fact, swollen! And so are my tonsils, and also some of my throat tissue! So I'm not sure why, exactly, I had a CAT scan, if it was only going to tell us what we already know, but my ENT informs me that I should probably do a biopsy. A nice surgical biopsy, that I have to take an entire day off work for and be put under anesthesia and probably have a nice chunky scar left on my neck from the removal of a LYMPH NODE. He says it's probably nothing serious but it could be! So we better check! I still have to have an ultrasound on my thyroid and a follow-up with the endocrinologist, both of which are the week after next, and then after that? IT'S PARTY TIME, LYMPH NODES. One of you guys is going home. Which one will it be? Find out soon!
Lately it's like Survivor around here, only with body parts. The nodes saw what happened to the appendix and they should have been scared, but were they? No! They shamelessly swelled and forced me to take drastic measures AGAIN. You should have known, you guys! Nothing is safe living inside me!
10.11.2007
10.02.2007
Also, cocaine
So fuck, you know, how awesome was the seventh Harry Potter? So awesome, and I won't write anything about it because some random person reading this blog may have not read it already and I know how that feels, avoiding spoilers, you know? It sucks, because everywhere you turn you're afraid the book will be spoiled forever like the sixth book was spoiled for me. And then you have to watch out for those fake spoilers like the ones given to me by people who claim to "love" me, such as: "Harry Potter dies!" "Harry Potter doesn't die!" Harry Potter and Voldemort are the SAME PERSON!" "Hermione and Voldemort are the SAME PERSON!" "Harry is actually a bunny rabbit! So soft and cuddly!" Etc, etc. None of which are true (or... ARE they?) But yeah, anyway, I finished all the Harry Potter books and now I feel a little bereft, and I felt I should commemorate the occasion by putting it in writing since last time I wrote, I hadn't even started the sixth book. Woe!
The nodes are still swollen and I'm being inundated with doctors' appointments. I went to the endocrinologist and the ENT last week and they both decided that the only cure for what ails this poor girl? MORE APPOINTMENTS! AND MAKE SURE THEY ARE AS DRAWN OUT AS POSSIBLE! So now I have a cat scan for the nodes on Thursday and another ENT appointment next week, I think, and then a free week and then the week after I think I have an ultrasound on my thyroid and a follow-up with the endo. I feel like you should be able to check both things with one test, you know? Either an ultrasound OR a cat scan. Not both. But no! It must be both, and hey, did you know, more bloodwork too! I love needles. It's too bad heroin never agreed with me.
The nodes are still swollen and I'm being inundated with doctors' appointments. I went to the endocrinologist and the ENT last week and they both decided that the only cure for what ails this poor girl? MORE APPOINTMENTS! AND MAKE SURE THEY ARE AS DRAWN OUT AS POSSIBLE! So now I have a cat scan for the nodes on Thursday and another ENT appointment next week, I think, and then a free week and then the week after I think I have an ultrasound on my thyroid and a follow-up with the endo. I feel like you should be able to check both things with one test, you know? Either an ultrasound OR a cat scan. Not both. But no! It must be both, and hey, did you know, more bloodwork too! I love needles. It's too bad heroin never agreed with me.
9.04.2007
I moved and stuff
Hi, so I haven't written in a while because my life has been fully infused with the CRAZY and my mind can't stop moving long enough to formulate a coherent post, and I am still in this position so don't expect this post to be coherent. Or a good lesson on how to use punctuation/complete sentences.
My long weekend flew by with the moving and the spending eight hours in a darkroom on a holiday, but the second-best thing about a long weekend? Short week afterward! Before I left for work today I was getting my lunch things together and I said to myself, hmm, I believe I will have a hot dog for lunch today. Mostly because that was all that was left in my fridge/pantry that was lunch-able. So I packed up my lunch and traipsed off to work. A couple hours later my stomach was all, FOOD! NOW! and so I was all, mmm hot dog. Then I realized I forgot cheese for my hot dog, but I was like, well, ok, I can deal with having a cheeseless hot dog just this once. I guess. So I got my plate and was all set to go microwave my hot dog and eat its lonely, cheese-free self, when I realized, hey! I forgot buns too! Talented. So I went to Wendy's for lunch instead. The end.
So I spent eight hours in a darkroom yesterday? Working on a project that's due on Wednesday? And the weird thing is that... uh... I kind of wouldn't mind going back today? To print some pictures I took over the summer? And I think I have a sickness. A sickness cured only by huffing developer and fixer for eight hours straight and also not seeing daylight. Maybe it's like a vampire thing! Only instead of blood, I need DEVELOPERRRRRR. AND FIXERRRRRR. ARGGHGHGHHHH VAMPIRE ANGRY!
I also MOVED over the weekend! It was a totally awesome pain in the ass. But I had a lot of help, so that was nice, and I spent a large part of the weekend organizing and arranging my things, which was also nice. Except I'm stuck in this paralysis of organization/put-away-...tion wherein I can't do anything else until I go to Target and/or Ikea and get some wall shelves, because my room is really tiny and I need to add some height to it because I have this weird thing about rooms feeling weighted when there's too much stuff on the ground and not on the walls, so I can't hang anything up or put anything else away until I figure out where I want me some shelves. Classic! One would think it would be easy to find time to go to Target when it is a five minute WALK from one's new house, but one would be wrong. Turns out.
Last but certainly not least, in my quest to read all of the Harry Potter books in a row because omgggg so goooodddd, I finished the fifth book last Wednesday and realized, OH GOD. NO. I DO NOT HAVE THE SIXTH BOOK RIGHT NOW. WHAT WILL I DOOOOO?? So I got an (inferior, NOT Harry Potter) book off my shelf and began that, and it's okay, I guess, but I don't think I'd even like it that much if I wasn't yearning for Harry Potter, but as it stands, I am YEARNING for Harry Potter and I have no idea when I will be able to borrow the sixth book from someone. Harry Potter is like a hardcore drug to me. My veins are lonely! SIXTH BOOK! NOW!!!
My long weekend flew by with the moving and the spending eight hours in a darkroom on a holiday, but the second-best thing about a long weekend? Short week afterward! Before I left for work today I was getting my lunch things together and I said to myself, hmm, I believe I will have a hot dog for lunch today. Mostly because that was all that was left in my fridge/pantry that was lunch-able. So I packed up my lunch and traipsed off to work. A couple hours later my stomach was all, FOOD! NOW! and so I was all, mmm hot dog. Then I realized I forgot cheese for my hot dog, but I was like, well, ok, I can deal with having a cheeseless hot dog just this once. I guess. So I got my plate and was all set to go microwave my hot dog and eat its lonely, cheese-free self, when I realized, hey! I forgot buns too! Talented. So I went to Wendy's for lunch instead. The end.
So I spent eight hours in a darkroom yesterday? Working on a project that's due on Wednesday? And the weird thing is that... uh... I kind of wouldn't mind going back today? To print some pictures I took over the summer? And I think I have a sickness. A sickness cured only by huffing developer and fixer for eight hours straight and also not seeing daylight. Maybe it's like a vampire thing! Only instead of blood, I need DEVELOPERRRRRR. AND FIXERRRRRR. ARGGHGHGHHHH VAMPIRE ANGRY!
I also MOVED over the weekend! It was a totally awesome pain in the ass. But I had a lot of help, so that was nice, and I spent a large part of the weekend organizing and arranging my things, which was also nice. Except I'm stuck in this paralysis of organization/put-away-...tion wherein I can't do anything else until I go to Target and/or Ikea and get some wall shelves, because my room is really tiny and I need to add some height to it because I have this weird thing about rooms feeling weighted when there's too much stuff on the ground and not on the walls, so I can't hang anything up or put anything else away until I figure out where I want me some shelves. Classic! One would think it would be easy to find time to go to Target when it is a five minute WALK from one's new house, but one would be wrong. Turns out.
Last but certainly not least, in my quest to read all of the Harry Potter books in a row because omgggg so goooodddd, I finished the fifth book last Wednesday and realized, OH GOD. NO. I DO NOT HAVE THE SIXTH BOOK RIGHT NOW. WHAT WILL I DOOOOO?? So I got an (inferior, NOT Harry Potter) book off my shelf and began that, and it's okay, I guess, but I don't think I'd even like it that much if I wasn't yearning for Harry Potter, but as it stands, I am YEARNING for Harry Potter and I have no idea when I will be able to borrow the sixth book from someone. Harry Potter is like a hardcore drug to me. My veins are lonely! SIXTH BOOK! NOW!!!
8.23.2007
I will be a student FOREVERRRR!!!
So yesterday I was sitting in the hallway waiting for my art history class to start and I randomly started up this conversation with a girl who used to be a photography major at my school. USED TO being the operative term there because the reasons she told me for dropping out made me want to curl into a fetal position and cry right there in the middle of the cold tile and amidst the awkward stares exchanged between my fellow students, like, is she ok? Should we do something? Call someone or something? Is she seriously about to throw up?
There are four classes that photo majors must take entitled Directed Study 1 & 2 and Portfolio 1 & 2. These class titles did not used to reverberate with such tones of DOOM inside my poor weakened heart but alas, those happy days are over. Only a few days ago I had plotted out the rest of my courses so that I had slated myself to graduate in spring of 2009, which, holy hell! That's only a year late, even with the transferring of schools and the changing of majors and all the lost hours and WOW I AM AWESOME. SO, SO AWESOME. But as it turns out, I am not awesome. Way not awesome. Because yesterday I found out that both Directed Studies and both Portfolios must be taken separately from one another. And by that, I mean that you cannot take any one of those four in the same semester with another of those. Four. Consecutive. Semesters. Which I had already kind of planned on, right? Because I had planned out four more semesters for myself? WRONG.
You cannot even begin taking these four consecutive semesters until you have completed ALL OF YOUR OTHER STUDIO CLASSES. ALL. OF THEM. I will not be done with all of my studio classes until the end of fall semester of 2008, and you know what that means? I am TENTATIVELY expecting to graduate in FALL OF 2010.
Let me repeat that. TWO. THOUSAND. TEN. AS IN THREE YEARS FROM NOW. AS IN SIX AND A HALF YEARS AFTER I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL.
Okay. I'm breathing. Deep healing breaths, seriously, but SERIOUSLY, GEORGIA STATE. OH MY GOD WHY. Even if I had begun the program as a freshman it would have been impossible for me to graduate on time. I think. I'm holding onto that thought because seriously. It's not even really the graduating late that is irking me so hard, because let's face it, I kind of like school an awkwardly large amount and will kind of probably feel a little lost and empty once I graduate. It's just infuriating that the degree is set up so fucking awkwardly, like, sorry guys, but unless you start school in the last semester of your senior year of high school? You are fucked. Have a nice college experience!
Most majors involving directed studies don't even have to take them. Directed studies are usually an option to pad your hours requirement for graduation, but photo majors? Not only do we HAVE to do a directed study, we have to do TWO! OH THE JOY. I don't know, I just never thought getting an art degree would be so complicated, but I guess we really take our art seriously here, huh? The good thing is that people know that GSU photo degrees are no joke and from what I've heard, people who graduate with a photo major from GSU usually do pretty well for themselves. So that's something, you know? Except it is also something that when I finally graduate and people are like, what happened? Did you take a couple of years off? Like three? I will have to be like, NO. I JUST SUCK. SO, SO HARD.
On the other hand, hi! I really do love photography and even if I switched majors at this point it would take me just as long to graduate, and on the bright side? Taking this long to get through school means I get darkroom access for the next three years. So I guess it's not all that bad.
On the other other hand? I get to buy one of these this semester, because I need it for school, which means I can totally rationalize making a purchase that I have wanted to make for the last three years:
There are four classes that photo majors must take entitled Directed Study 1 & 2 and Portfolio 1 & 2. These class titles did not used to reverberate with such tones of DOOM inside my poor weakened heart but alas, those happy days are over. Only a few days ago I had plotted out the rest of my courses so that I had slated myself to graduate in spring of 2009, which, holy hell! That's only a year late, even with the transferring of schools and the changing of majors and all the lost hours and WOW I AM AWESOME. SO, SO AWESOME. But as it turns out, I am not awesome. Way not awesome. Because yesterday I found out that both Directed Studies and both Portfolios must be taken separately from one another. And by that, I mean that you cannot take any one of those four in the same semester with another of those. Four. Consecutive. Semesters. Which I had already kind of planned on, right? Because I had planned out four more semesters for myself? WRONG.
You cannot even begin taking these four consecutive semesters until you have completed ALL OF YOUR OTHER STUDIO CLASSES. ALL. OF THEM. I will not be done with all of my studio classes until the end of fall semester of 2008, and you know what that means? I am TENTATIVELY expecting to graduate in FALL OF 2010.
Let me repeat that. TWO. THOUSAND. TEN. AS IN THREE YEARS FROM NOW. AS IN SIX AND A HALF YEARS AFTER I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL.
Okay. I'm breathing. Deep healing breaths, seriously, but SERIOUSLY, GEORGIA STATE. OH MY GOD WHY. Even if I had begun the program as a freshman it would have been impossible for me to graduate on time. I think. I'm holding onto that thought because seriously. It's not even really the graduating late that is irking me so hard, because let's face it, I kind of like school an awkwardly large amount and will kind of probably feel a little lost and empty once I graduate. It's just infuriating that the degree is set up so fucking awkwardly, like, sorry guys, but unless you start school in the last semester of your senior year of high school? You are fucked. Have a nice college experience!
Most majors involving directed studies don't even have to take them. Directed studies are usually an option to pad your hours requirement for graduation, but photo majors? Not only do we HAVE to do a directed study, we have to do TWO! OH THE JOY. I don't know, I just never thought getting an art degree would be so complicated, but I guess we really take our art seriously here, huh? The good thing is that people know that GSU photo degrees are no joke and from what I've heard, people who graduate with a photo major from GSU usually do pretty well for themselves. So that's something, you know? Except it is also something that when I finally graduate and people are like, what happened? Did you take a couple of years off? Like three? I will have to be like, NO. I JUST SUCK. SO, SO HARD.
On the other hand, hi! I really do love photography and even if I switched majors at this point it would take me just as long to graduate, and on the bright side? Taking this long to get through school means I get darkroom access for the next three years. So I guess it's not all that bad.
On the other other hand? I get to buy one of these this semester, because I need it for school, which means I can totally rationalize making a purchase that I have wanted to make for the last three years:
Medium format, baby. Twin-lens reflex camera using 120MM film to make 6x6cm negatives OR 6x4.5cm. That I will then get to develop. In the darkroom. And also impress unsuspecting bitches with my awesome big camera, like, look at what a SERIOUS photographer I am. I am very SERIOUS about what I do. Look at my LARGE CAMERA. No, you cannot see the picture on the back after I take it, this is FILM, YOU IDIOT, NOT DIGITAL! WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR? HAHAHAHA!!!!!
8.08.2007
JAZZED
Dear constant exhaustion,
Why? Why do you plague me with your exhaustive-ness? I have so much to do and yet by the time I return to my apartment at night, all I can do is lay on the couch in a heat-fueled stupor and drool on myself until I gain enough energy to haul myself into the shower and then into bed. You are very, very inconvenient for me. I have cleaning out to do! Movies and shows to watch! Books to read! I haven't bought groceries in approximately five weeks! But I can do none of these things while you are hanging around. GO AWAY.
Pressing the keys has wiped me out,
Whitney
Dear dull, throbbing, nagging headache,
I really hate you. Why are you here? It's not allergy season. Well, okay, I have been around a very large number of cats lately, but REALLY. I live with cats on a daily basis, what difference should three more tiny, almost invisible kittens make? NONE, HEADACHE. Are you allergies? Are you not enough sleep? Are you and exhaustion simply teaming up to drive me into the ground? You make me feel like I am walking through life barely conscious of what is going on, because that is WHAT I AM DOING WHEN YOU ARE AROUND. Please vacate the premises immediately.
My eyes are throbbing from looking at the screen,
Whitney
Dear Whitney,
CAFFEINE!!!! BEAUTIFUL, LOVELY CAFFEINE IS THE ANSWER. YOUR HEADACHE WILL MAGICALLY DISAPPEAR AFTER THE FIRST THREE SIPS OF THAT VANILLA COKE ZERO AND YOU WILL BE ABLE TO STAY AWAKE THROUGHOUT AN ENTIRE WORKDAY! WHY? WHY WITH THE NO CAFFEINE IN THE LAST THREE DAYS? SEE HOW MUCH BETTER YOU FEEL? YAYYYYYY CAFFEINE!!!!!!
You're welcome!!!!!!!
Exhaustion and headache
Why? Why do you plague me with your exhaustive-ness? I have so much to do and yet by the time I return to my apartment at night, all I can do is lay on the couch in a heat-fueled stupor and drool on myself until I gain enough energy to haul myself into the shower and then into bed. You are very, very inconvenient for me. I have cleaning out to do! Movies and shows to watch! Books to read! I haven't bought groceries in approximately five weeks! But I can do none of these things while you are hanging around. GO AWAY.
Pressing the keys has wiped me out,
Whitney
Dear dull, throbbing, nagging headache,
I really hate you. Why are you here? It's not allergy season. Well, okay, I have been around a very large number of cats lately, but REALLY. I live with cats on a daily basis, what difference should three more tiny, almost invisible kittens make? NONE, HEADACHE. Are you allergies? Are you not enough sleep? Are you and exhaustion simply teaming up to drive me into the ground? You make me feel like I am walking through life barely conscious of what is going on, because that is WHAT I AM DOING WHEN YOU ARE AROUND. Please vacate the premises immediately.
My eyes are throbbing from looking at the screen,
Whitney
Dear Whitney,
CAFFEINE!!!! BEAUTIFUL, LOVELY CAFFEINE IS THE ANSWER. YOUR HEADACHE WILL MAGICALLY DISAPPEAR AFTER THE FIRST THREE SIPS OF THAT VANILLA COKE ZERO AND YOU WILL BE ABLE TO STAY AWAKE THROUGHOUT AN ENTIRE WORKDAY! WHY? WHY WITH THE NO CAFFEINE IN THE LAST THREE DAYS? SEE HOW MUCH BETTER YOU FEEL? YAYYYYYY CAFFEINE!!!!!!
You're welcome!!!!!!!
Exhaustion and headache
8.07.2007
The run-on sentences and parentheses are out of control
Things I Have Learned Today:
1. It is a bad idea to eat applesauce straight out of the jar when you are very hungry because all you had for breakfast was a pack of peanut butter crackers because you have not gone grocery shopping in four weeks because you are tired and lazy and busy and also, you really fucking HATE going grocery shopping and would kind of rather eat ramen noodles three times a day for a month than go grocery shopping. Eating applesauce straight out of the jar, especially when you are at work and distracted by the shiny computer monitor in front of you, will probably result in looking at the jar after thirty minutes and realizing there is only about a third of the original amount of applesauce remaining. You will then need to sheepishly re-cap the jar and place it back in the refrigerator before your crazy applesauce-eating self begin to chomp on the applesauce-flavored glass without realizing it.
2. Actually, mostly just the applesauce thing. I think that's all I've learned today. Not from experience, of course, just from... uh... hypothesizing? Yeah. Totally just an untested hypothesis.
Speaking of the Food-Related Crazy, I hoard condiments. Is that weird? I get fast food at work probably once or twice a week (except when I haven't gone grocery shopping in four weeks and am forced to forage for food [holy shit, look at all that alliteration] elswhere than my lonely, cold refrigerator, in which case I get fast food a little more often than that), and a lot of times I go to Wendy's because it's really close to my office and it's cheap. (Are you still following after all the punctuation? IT'S A PUNCTUATION PARTY OVER HERE! PARENTHESES! BRACKETS! COMMAS! WOOOOOO CRAZY TIME!)
Anyway. What was I saying? Oh, right. Condiment hoarding! (I feel like it's some kind of illicit sexual act or something... you rotten hoarder). Anyway OH MY GOD PARENTHESES. So the Wendy's I go to does not offer mayonnaise packets for some ungodly, unexplained reason, and I like to mix my ketchup with mayonnaise to dip my fries in, I know, weird and ew. Whatever. So whenever I ask for mayonnaise they give it to me in a tiny condiment cup but that just gets kind of inconvenient, you know? Also I get tired of asking for mayonnaise and ketchup all the time and the guy behind the window totally KNOWS ME because I am all the time asking for mayonnaise and now he brings it to me without my asking and I don't know, that's just kind of embarrasing.
So now whenever I have extra ketchup packets or I get mayo packets from a different fast-food establishment, I totally toss them into a Wendy's bag and keep them for next time I get fast food so that I won't have to ask for condiments. And I hide the bag behind my computer monitor so no one else can see it, like it's some kind of dirty little secret, you filthy condiment hoarder. I mean, seriously, who does that? I think it's some kind of weird sickness. I think it has something to do with the Type-A and OCD and shit. Who even knows.
In other obsessive news, my Netflix queue has somehow shot up over 100 (Holy shit! Arrested Development, I totally want to watch that! And Big Love, omg! OMG SO MANY DVDS!) and I totally upgraded to three DVDs at-a-time because in addition to being a filthy condiment hoarder, I am totally a filthy DVD hoarder. I cannot help myself.
1. It is a bad idea to eat applesauce straight out of the jar when you are very hungry because all you had for breakfast was a pack of peanut butter crackers because you have not gone grocery shopping in four weeks because you are tired and lazy and busy and also, you really fucking HATE going grocery shopping and would kind of rather eat ramen noodles three times a day for a month than go grocery shopping. Eating applesauce straight out of the jar, especially when you are at work and distracted by the shiny computer monitor in front of you, will probably result in looking at the jar after thirty minutes and realizing there is only about a third of the original amount of applesauce remaining. You will then need to sheepishly re-cap the jar and place it back in the refrigerator before your crazy applesauce-eating self begin to chomp on the applesauce-flavored glass without realizing it.
2. Actually, mostly just the applesauce thing. I think that's all I've learned today. Not from experience, of course, just from... uh... hypothesizing? Yeah. Totally just an untested hypothesis.
Speaking of the Food-Related Crazy, I hoard condiments. Is that weird? I get fast food at work probably once or twice a week (except when I haven't gone grocery shopping in four weeks and am forced to forage for food [holy shit, look at all that alliteration] elswhere than my lonely, cold refrigerator, in which case I get fast food a little more often than that), and a lot of times I go to Wendy's because it's really close to my office and it's cheap. (Are you still following after all the punctuation? IT'S A PUNCTUATION PARTY OVER HERE! PARENTHESES! BRACKETS! COMMAS! WOOOOOO CRAZY TIME!)
Anyway. What was I saying? Oh, right. Condiment hoarding! (I feel like it's some kind of illicit sexual act or something... you rotten hoarder). Anyway OH MY GOD PARENTHESES. So the Wendy's I go to does not offer mayonnaise packets for some ungodly, unexplained reason, and I like to mix my ketchup with mayonnaise to dip my fries in, I know, weird and ew. Whatever. So whenever I ask for mayonnaise they give it to me in a tiny condiment cup but that just gets kind of inconvenient, you know? Also I get tired of asking for mayonnaise and ketchup all the time and the guy behind the window totally KNOWS ME because I am all the time asking for mayonnaise and now he brings it to me without my asking and I don't know, that's just kind of embarrasing.
So now whenever I have extra ketchup packets or I get mayo packets from a different fast-food establishment, I totally toss them into a Wendy's bag and keep them for next time I get fast food so that I won't have to ask for condiments. And I hide the bag behind my computer monitor so no one else can see it, like it's some kind of dirty little secret, you filthy condiment hoarder. I mean, seriously, who does that? I think it's some kind of weird sickness. I think it has something to do with the Type-A and OCD and shit. Who even knows.
In other obsessive news, my Netflix queue has somehow shot up over 100 (Holy shit! Arrested Development, I totally want to watch that! And Big Love, omg! OMG SO MANY DVDS!) and I totally upgraded to three DVDs at-a-time because in addition to being a filthy condiment hoarder, I am totally a filthy DVD hoarder. I cannot help myself.
8.03.2007
A bunch of random paragraphs masquerading as an entry
So I'm totally obsessed with Netflix right now. Netflix and I are having an illicit and highly improper love affair and I probably should not be typing this for the Internets to read but I don't care because I LOVE NETFLIX, DON'T YOU SEE? WE LOVE EACH OTHER AND I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK! I got a free trial a week ago and opted for the two DVDs at a time plan and now I kind of want to upgrade to the three at a time plan because oh my God, the possibilities. I have spent several hours in the last week surfing around the site, internally screaming things like, "Oh my God! Clarissa Explains It All! NETFLIX, YOU HAVE CLARISSA EXPLAINS IT ALL? Oh my God! Grey's Anatomy! I totally want to watch that! Oh, and Lost! And Prison Break! And... this? I don't even know what this is, Netflix, but you suggested I would like it based on my other choices and I trust you fully! One hundred percent! ALSO I LOVE YOU. SO, SO MUCH." So after a week I have approximately 80 DVDs in my queue and I have finished and returned exactly one of them. Methinks the love affair will probably be lasting long into the foreseeable future.
Speaking of love affairs, I love organization and storage (news to anyone? thought not). Yesterday I went to Target to pick up a prescription and accidentally got absorbed in looking at the plastic storage containers because I am cleaning out my room right now and about to start packing to move and that means that I obviously need many, many more storage containers than I currently have in my life. All of the storage containers I already have are inferior and must be replaced with newer, shinier models. ALL OF THEM. Everything I own must have a storage container to call its own! It would be organizational heaven!
I didn't even realize that Target has a lot of storage containers on sale right now until I got over to that section and then I just stood there in awe as I stroked the containers' discounted plastic exteriors while a little bit of drool dribbled down the front of my shirt. I snapped rudely back to life when I realized that I have approximately $40 in my checking account to last me until Friday, but I bid a loving farewell to the containers and told them I would come back for them before the sale was over. Fear not, my loves! I shall return!
My roommate did a bad, bad thing. For me, anyway. As I understand the story (and to be honest, I don't really understand the story), one of her co-workers had a cat who had kittens and then he had to move out of his apartment/house/wherever he lived, and so Sara took the kittens until they could get their new homes. Most of them already had new homes (I think there were six to begin with?) and the others found homes almost immediately after Sara took them. However, and here is the bad part, there is now one kitten remaining. One tiny, lonely, oh my God adorable kitten. A friend of Sara's has already laid claim to this kitten but won't be taking her for another week or so, which, as it turns out, is about six days longer than it took for me to fall dramatically, irreversibly in love with this kitten. She is a tiny, unbelievably fluffy gray ball of fuzz and she's rambunctious and playful and runs around crazily pouncing on specks of dust, but then last night she curled up next to me and slept that way all night. All. Night. If I moved or turned over, she would move so that she was still touching me. But she didn't want to be ON me - if I put her on my chest, she would almost immediately climb off and lay back down next to me. She wanted to be touching me, but still in her space. Oh my God, she is so adorable. I AM SMITTEN. SMITTEN WITH A KITTEN, LOL THAT RHYMES!
And basically, now I want to keep her. But I can't. So I am sad. The end.
Speaking of love affairs, I love organization and storage (news to anyone? thought not). Yesterday I went to Target to pick up a prescription and accidentally got absorbed in looking at the plastic storage containers because I am cleaning out my room right now and about to start packing to move and that means that I obviously need many, many more storage containers than I currently have in my life. All of the storage containers I already have are inferior and must be replaced with newer, shinier models. ALL OF THEM. Everything I own must have a storage container to call its own! It would be organizational heaven!
I didn't even realize that Target has a lot of storage containers on sale right now until I got over to that section and then I just stood there in awe as I stroked the containers' discounted plastic exteriors while a little bit of drool dribbled down the front of my shirt. I snapped rudely back to life when I realized that I have approximately $40 in my checking account to last me until Friday, but I bid a loving farewell to the containers and told them I would come back for them before the sale was over. Fear not, my loves! I shall return!
My roommate did a bad, bad thing. For me, anyway. As I understand the story (and to be honest, I don't really understand the story), one of her co-workers had a cat who had kittens and then he had to move out of his apartment/house/wherever he lived, and so Sara took the kittens until they could get their new homes. Most of them already had new homes (I think there were six to begin with?) and the others found homes almost immediately after Sara took them. However, and here is the bad part, there is now one kitten remaining. One tiny, lonely, oh my God adorable kitten. A friend of Sara's has already laid claim to this kitten but won't be taking her for another week or so, which, as it turns out, is about six days longer than it took for me to fall dramatically, irreversibly in love with this kitten. She is a tiny, unbelievably fluffy gray ball of fuzz and she's rambunctious and playful and runs around crazily pouncing on specks of dust, but then last night she curled up next to me and slept that way all night. All. Night. If I moved or turned over, she would move so that she was still touching me. But she didn't want to be ON me - if I put her on my chest, she would almost immediately climb off and lay back down next to me. She wanted to be touching me, but still in her space. Oh my God, she is so adorable. I AM SMITTEN. SMITTEN WITH A KITTEN, LOL THAT RHYMES!
And basically, now I want to keep her. But I can't. So I am sad. The end.
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