2005-02-27 - 8:49 p.m.

sex and church

Just came from Mass. Church and sex are very similar. Both can get you closer to God, but if your mind is elsewhere, it's really no fun. What's worst is when you're thinking about church while having sex or sex while in church. Either way, you just feel really wrong.

2005-02-27 - 5:13 p.m.

pubes=fun

Getting so much mundaneness taken care of. Like guess what I just did! I trimmed my pubes! FUNFUNFUN! I was having so much fun that I made up a little rhyme. All I remember now is the part about "keepin' my down-there-hair nice and spare."

2005-02-27 - 3:21 p.m.

Halsshmerzen

Ich muss nicht rauchen! Ich bin sehr krank. Ich rauche und das gibt mir die Halsschmerzen.

2005-02-27 - 2:59 p.m.

productive cold

I've been very productive today. It's only 3 but I've already done the following things-
Vacuumed, called Mom, changed the kitty litter, recycled, cleaned the kitchen, worked on my metals project (it's nearing completeion, thank God), swept, took out the trash, and caught a cold. Yes, I'm being this productive despite tonsils that are comparable in size, texture and color to fucking golf balls. Got a mental picture of my happy throat yet? I hope so, 'cause it's sooo SEXY! Hurrah for viruses!

As for this very instant in time, I am listening to Franz Ferdinand and tweezing my eyebrows. Just thought you would want to know.

2005-02-27 - 3:51 a.m.

4 a.m.

Well, we're coming up on 4 a.m., and just for the record I had no intention of being up this late. I am not an insominac by habit, but if I get busy... well, you know. And what is most peculiar is that I was IMing Jason, and then he went idle, so I started reading a magazine. Then another. Then, I go to put my computer to sleep and realize that he IMed me again like at 1 but I missed it. If you're reading this honey, I'm sorry. For some reason the internet did not instantly kick me off even though I was idle, so I was online but not really. Ah well, happy 4 a.m. and this has been one helluva weekend.

2005-02-26 - 9:22 p.m.

rude on oasis

Quote from Rude from last night:
"I fucking hate Oaisis. No, wait- I love their lifestyle, they just make shitty music."

2005-02-26 - 6:42 p.m.

rainy saturday

A very rainy Saturday morning has turned into a very rainy Saturday night. At least I finally feel okay enough to enjoy the wretched weather. I haven't left my apartment all day- like not even to go check the mail. I have spent the whole day in my jammies and am just fine with that. And you know what? I'm not going to leave or change or anything until tomorrow morning. So there (insert sticking outing tounge here). As for anyone who suffers from the delusion that I will be drinking tonight, I say Ha! Hahahahaha!.
No.

2005-02-26 - 1:57 p.m.

24 hours of drink

Keeping down some grapes and water okay. Feeling better enough to look at computer screen without sunglasses.

But, if I may make a statement that sounds too drunk for me to be sober now (which I am) the last 24 hours have been too long to have just been 24 hours. Bear with me on this one- when you consider that 24 hours ago I was on campus, being all good and studious, and then you track the evening/night/morning, I was in so many odd places doing so many odd things. To go from making fun of Cody in class to him holding back my hair as I puke, that's a big transition. Also, the longer I'm awake the more funny shit comes back to me. Like in Showdown how I got the phone numbers of those lesbians. I have no intention of calling them, but that's a random thing to say "yeah I got those lesbians phone number..." Or like how Cody's roomie is a big, boxy Mexican country music fan who dips. What an odd pair. At some point I said the Nelly/Tim McGraw duet sucked and he got madder than mad. I acknowledged that I like old-school country, like Johnny Cash. He said that if Johnny Cash was there right then he would kick his pansy ass. What makes this even funnier is that Cody told me later that Johnny Cash is one of this guy's favorites, and why he would kick his ass is unclear. He was just a big, drunk country guy lookin' to start a brawl, I suppose. Or how I was talking to this adorable girl named Stephanie and we were found out we wear the same size bra. We were giving each other fives and shouting "C34?" "C34!!!" Haha- yeah, I got pretty wasted last night. And no, it's not something I do often, nor is it something I should do again anytime soon. But it was fun. And funny.

2005-02-26 - 12:40 p.m.

so hungover

I have the worst hangover in all of god-forsaken human history. I'm wearing sunglasses inisde, just so I can stand to look at my computer screen. And then Cody IMs me and asks if I wanna come over and do it again tonight and I'm like NOOOO! NO, NO, NO! YOU FUCKING IDIOT! WHAT PART OF US WAKING UP ON YOUR BATHROOM FLOOR DID YOU MISS!? On a related subject, I just barfed again. I couldn't keep down a handful of Cherios and two glasses of water. Pathetic. Oh, and remember people "beer then liquer, never sicker." Oh how true it is....

2005-02-26 - 6:35 a.m.

sober

NEVER.DRINKING.AGAIN.

2005-02-26 - 6:18 a.m.

barf in hair

WTF? And owwwww, my head. Lets try to make sense of the last 12 hors, shall we? It'll be a kick-ass exercise in sobriety for me. So yeah... it was like, 5 and I was drinking Guiness with Rude. Then it was 8 and I was home, but I didn't want that "two hours of drinking buzz" to go away, so I hit the wine back home. But then I was on AIM and at a quarter to 12 Cutter tells me to come over to Cody's. So I do. And that's where shit gets really blurry. I did a shot with Cody right of the bat, I think it was Vodka. Then I did another. Then I did another. And I'm not sure. But I distinctly remember Cody holding up 4 fingers and asking if we had only done 3 shots, and I was like, yeah, 4. Then I went outside to smoke a cigarette. Then I barfed in the bushes next to Cody Ray's apartment. I'm not too proud- there I said it. That would be my first drrink-induced puking since high school. The nice thing though is that after we took shot number 3 or 4, Cody said "if I get sick, you'll look out for me, right?" and I said sure. In response he propmised to unwaveringly look after me if I got sick. I didn't think much of it then, but he really did. He even fucking held my hair back when I was barfing for a second time in the bathroom. He was all like "are you okay?" and getting me water. What's funny though is that about as soon as I stopped puking, Cody literally passed out on the bathroom floor. One second he was coaching me through vomiting and the next he was out cold on the dirty tile. Then I don't remember, but I was aparently passed out on the floor right next to his bathroom- I made it a little farther than he did. Then he woke up and tripped over me as he tried to get back to his bed. So then I was awake, realized it was almost 6 a.m. and figured I should drive home and brace myself for the hangover of a lifetime. You know how I wanted to have a wild and crazy weekend? Well barfing in Cody Ray's bushes was never on the agenda. In fact, as a finishing touch, while I was throwing up the first time I paused and told Cody that I have no intention of owning up to any of what had happened that night. I said that on Monday morning I'll be like "Russian Vodka? Noooo, I would never do something like that!" He said fair enough and contiinued to hold my hair. At least there's no barf in my hair, right?

2005-02-25 - 10:57 p.m.

how to make bean/corn dip

Okay, so the last entry was about eating disorders. This entry is about how much I don't have one anymore. Tonight I have (on top of drinking a few thousand calories worth of aclcohol) consumed my weight in one of my favorite dishes. It's a favorite because it's full of veggie-friendly protien and equally perfect as a college-student main course or a party snack. Here's how you make it:
Go to the grocery store.
Buy the cheapest can of corn (not creamed)
And the cheapest can of black beans
And while you're at it pick up some of the generic brand really hot salsa and a bag of corn chips.
At this point, you will have spent a whopping $3.50.
Go home.
Dump however much of the black beans you feel like in a bowl. Also dump in some corn.
Microwave for about a minute and a half.
Carefully pour the liquidy stuff off and when you feel it's dry enough, add some salsa.
Mix it up real good.
Pour yourself a glass of wine, get online, and open the bag of chips.
Dip chip in steaming bowl of corn, beans, salsa concoction.
Enjoy the finest muncie munching since that time back in High School when you got really stoned and ate a whole box of Captain Crunch.
Realize that Captian Crunch sounds really fucking good even though you haven't smoked pot in YEARS.
Decide to go back to store fo Captain Crunch.
Realize that cereal has nothing to do with recipie and scratch out the last three lines of direction.
Stay online and eat more of your weird bean/corn/salsa concotion and feel smug.

2005-02-25 - 9:17 p.m.

eating disorders

You familiar with Terri Schiavo? If not, go to MSN or Yahoo or something and check today's news. I'm something of a news junkie- if I've ever IMed you there's a good chance that while we messaged the delays on my end were caused by my distraction with some online news source. Anyway, about this woman- 15 years ago she collapsed. Her heart stopped and blood was cut off from her brain. Now she's a retarded vegetable (and I mean that in the nicest way). For the last 7 years her family has been duking it out in a right-to-die train wreck. Her husband says let her die, her family disagrees. Jeb Bush thinks she should stay alive. So does the Vatican. But this is all less important to me. What I find particularly compelling is that her colapse was apparently brought on by her bulimia and/or anorexia. As a recovering eating-disorder type person, I find this fascinating, tragic, and a reminder of what could have happend to me if I had continued in my desire to be 5'7" and 100 pounds. Now I'm a healthy 125. I got out of that alive, but it always comes back to haunt me. Hell, sometimes I still feel like making myself throw up and I'm not even sure why. I always stop myself now, but this woman was not so lucky. People are making this out as a right-to-die case, but I think that if anything it should cast light on eating disorders. It should make people wake up and realize that yes, being pretty can kill. What I find extra ironic is that her husband has now been granted the right (in three weeks) to remove her feeding tube. Her parents don't want him to. This whole fight is about whether a woman who was scared of food- didn't want to eat food- threw up food- should still be unkowingly fed. Very peculiar. It reminds me of when my Grandad was dying. In his childhood he had a strange aversion to eating. He didn't eat as a child in the 20s and so he grew wrong. He had a weird hunch-back thing because his bones formed weird and as such he couldn't fight in WWII. He was sad about that, but went on to marry and have kids- including my mom. Then, in the 90s, he started to die. His wife, my grandma, kept trying to feed him but he wouldn't have any of it. He complained that it was as bad as when people made him eat in his childhood. He just got thinner and thinner and eventually he died in his sleep. Eating is so important- so neccesary- what happens in some of our brains where we just don't want it? Like my grandad and like me, like my sister and childhood best friend? Like this woman who's a vegetable because of it? I mean, why? It's not just being skinny- its about control. What kind of sick world is it where people exert control over their own lives by starving themselves? And yes, this diary entry is completely free of irony and full of saddness. I know that's not what you've come to expect from me, but it's something I needed to get off my chest. Thanks for listening.

2005-02-25 - 9:04 p.m.

Dragon lighter!

Hmmm... I have a lighter with a dragon on it. I didn't when the day began, and I have no clue where it came from. Apparently, I unknowingly jacked someone else's lighter- someone who likes dragons. This is funny, because I was thinking the other day that I needed a new one but didn't have the money for it. Problem solved! The Lord works in mysterious ways- like getting my poor ass a lighter. (I don't really think God has the free time to worry about my smoking habit, but it's a funny thought).

2005-02-25 - 9:02 p.m.

no candy

Why is there no candy in this house!?

2005-02-25 - 7:39 p.m.

Showdown, Guiness and public transit

Just got back from Showdown (I have no clue why that bar is called that). Eugene/Rude and I split a pitcher of Guiness. I am the only girl I've ever met who loves Guiness. Yaaay for dark beer! My Irish/German heritage is apparently useful in alcohol-related environments. On a related topic, I wish there was reliable public transit in this town. Like in Austin, there are busses all over the place. Or some cities have subways. But noooo, San Marcos is a sprawling weenie town- a bastard blip somewhere on that hour drive from Austin to San Antonio, and as such has no such thing. I mean there are the school busses, but those stop at 5 on Fridays, and there are the city busses, but those have very few stops and they come very rarely. Why do I care so much? Because if there was reliable public transit I could get as sloshed as I want and take the bus home. Rude has no car and so I had to drive. As such he got to have 3 times as much beer as me. Then again, I guess that's fine, since he was paying in the first place, but still...

2005-02-25 - 4:06 p.m.

happy Fritag!

Meeting Rude at 5. We're going to Showdown to split a pitcher, and he's buying. Nothing is better than a man who's willing to buy you drinks with no expectation of getting in your pants. I call him Rude because I am currently in the realm of written words, and that's his literary/internet psudenym. Mr. Rude Leander, he is. And inebriated we shall soon be! Hurrah!

Beer aside, I am in an impossibly good mood right now. German today was awsome. Pot Head Matt was being hilariously stoned and the proffessor was beside herself with glee after meeting the most famous German director (who I have still never heard of). Mark was laughing and things are always good when he laughs. Hell, everyone was laughing! Me and Matt and Mark and Cody and Cutter and Christin and Christene and of course the wonder twins- Rachel and Jansen- we were all laughing so much. It was fun.

Yes, I am in a good mood.

Lets see if this survives the *shudder* drive up to the student center to pick Rude up from work. The main road in that direction is under construction, so getting there is diffiicult. I often take side streets through campus, but those things are speed-traps. I've gotten two warnings on those things. I say "officer is there a problem?" and am told "You were going 22 in a 20 MPH zone." Thus, I drive like a geezer now. I haven't gotten a warning in over 2 years, but a ticket is the last thing I need, so better safe than sorry, right?

2005-02-25 - 11:03 a.m.

weekend

Oh, and in case you're wondering why this is in multi-entry blog format instead of my usual one-thought-per-page style, I'm just doing this format for this weekend. I tend to make a lot of individual posts in one weekend, so I thought it would be fun to see all on one page the complete chronicles of everything that happens between Friday morning and Sunday night. Let the mutha-fuckin' weekend begin dawgs! Wooo-hooo! Oh, but first I gotta go to class. Here's my list of things to do today (in order):
Go to German
Pretend to understand what the teacher's saying
Go to the metals lab
Drill about a billion little holes in a sheet of 22-guage copper
Go to HEB
Buy some cheap wine and cigarettes
Drink cheap wine, smoke cigarettes
Post diary entry to the effect of "I'm so drunk right now."
But after that I don't know what I'll do- the wine shall decide for me- haha.

2005-02-25 - 11:00 a.m.

still not employed

Called about the stupid glass-bottom boat driving job again. Got an answering machine... again. Getting frustrated. I mean, do they want a bitter, pink-haired chick to give people fish tours or not?

2005-02-25 - 10:11 a.m.

kitty hatred

Tales of the apartment complex:
You see, I know OF everyone in the building, but I don't really KNOW any of them. Well, this is about the guy on the first floor who I've never spoken to but I know he's blonde, smokes constantly and plays the keyboard. But no, wait, this ISN'T about him. This is about his black cat. This is a story about fuzzy-wuzzy kitty hatred. You see, he lets his black cat wander around the parking lot, and my little Claire sees Black Cat from up here. Claire sees black cat, all wandering around the territory she perceives as hers and starts hissing and spitting. She makes those low, angry meows like when I step on her tail. I tell her that I'm sure Black Cat has nothing against HER and that she doesn't even know this other cat, but of course kitties don't think like that. Kitties are pointy, angry, carnivorous creatures that just happen to be so cute we can't help but domesticate them. I have no doubt that if I ever let Claire out (which I won't, since she seems to get lost just 10 feet from the door... that's how I got her in the first place. Her previous owner was a previous neighbor of mine who let her out. Claire got lost and thought my apartment was her home, so one day my old roomie opened the door and Claire walked in, like this was her home. but whatever. I babble- the point is that Claire has no sense of direction) anyway, I know that if I ever let Claire out the first thing she would do would be hunt down Black Cat and inflict some gangsta-like turf-war dammage. Yes, I have a kitty with as much aimless rage as I myself have!

The last thing I wrote before this thing. The next thing I wrote after this.