2005-03-01 - 10:47 p.m.

Nicknames

Drank too much coffee at the art opening. That's the problem with shows in coffee shops- they interfere with my already skewed body chemistry when I really, really need sleep. Now I'm simultanously exhausted and jittery. That combined with a propensity to read other young women's blogs has resulted in the brilliant idea that in all my diary entries I should give people Sex in the City-style nicknames. Other women do it in theirs, thus, it must be as good an idea as it seems. And it will probably seem stupid in the morning.
Example:
Was IMing with de Sade just now. He can't remember any of what happened at the party Friday night. Typical.
or
I had the most wonderful conversation this weekend with The Senator. We were discussing important bands from the 90s and I couldn't agree with him more.

Those are the only ones I could think up that I liked. De Sade is the lustful fellow who has the signiture of his favorite author on his hipbone (and you can probably surmise which author that is). Or The Senator isn't a senator yet, but will be. I mean, it may seem a stretch for a twenty-something with shaggy hair and a guitar to be a Senator, but I can very-much-so see it. Someday though, I will walk into his office and ask if my dear old friend is in. By then he will be post rather than pre-law and full of baby kisses and he will ask if he knows me and I'll just say "I'm Professor Anderson- we met at Texas State."

Oh, and Professor Anderson. That is who I will inevitably, expectably, and even hopefully be. Wait, maybe I got those adverbs out of order- nah, I'll leave 'em like they are. Anyway, professor is the title of someone who has forsaken the real world to never leave academia. Naturally, it is a title I want to pursue. And Anderson is of course Jason's last name. Do I plan on marrying him? Eventually, yes. No time soon of course, but if there was ever a man who it just seemed I could "settle down with" Jason's it. Okay, ignore the previous entries about how I despise his cd collection- I really do love him. I want to be with him forever, I'm just young yet

Oh, but I should give Jason a nickname too! I think he shall simply be The Professor. Why? Well, if there was ever a man with way too much going on between his ears, it's Jason.

2005-03-01 - 10:39 p.m.

SXSW wristbands

Jason's dad is scoring us South by Southwest wristbands! Woo-hoo! Oh, and for all my non-Ausinite readers who may not know what this means, it means unlimited access to music too hip for its own good. I mainly care about getting in to see the Ravonettes at Emos, but there's other silly/cool stuff too. Go-go Austin hipness!

2005-03-01 - 10:36 p.m.

pirate ship safe tuna

So I'm thinking- there are sunken pirate ships everywhere. And there's dolphin safe tuna. So why isn't there pirate ship safe tuna? What if some kid is eating a tuna sandwhich and gets a big splinter lodged in his throat? Or finds a nipple from one of those mast-head things? And what about preserving underwater antiquites? We need to look into this.

2005-03-01 - 8:22 p.m.

Motley Crue

Must. Destroy. Hair. Metal.
You see, the genre always sort of annoyed me, but I never devoted a lot of thought to it. Then, almost two years into our relationship, Jason made a confession: He loves Motley Crue as much as he loves melodramatic goth rock. Though Jason is as straight-laced as they come (hello closet full of jeans and nondescript polo shirts) he maintains a comfy love for the sort of music that goes well with fishnets, red wine and clove cigarettes. This is fine by me. I'm a-okay with Love and Rockets or the Sisters of Mercy or whatever you insert here. Hair metal, however...

So what am I doing now? I'm obviously on my computer, he's on his laptop, and Skid Row is blaring from the stereo. Dear lord, I love Jason, but does he really have to listen to this stuff out loud?

Just for the record, I'm not normally this annoyed by this music. I'm a tad irritable tonight, possibly because my hormones are all out of whack. I've been off my birth control (see previous entry about my unwillingness to go to the doctor.) Normally I force myself to go to the gyno, but this time I put it off too long and my old prescription ran out. Thus, I have a chunk of time in here where I'm off. Right now I'm experiencing what is euphamistically called "spotting," but what I shall call "why-the-hell-am-I-bleeding-right-now?" I also have inexplicable mid-cycle cramps and a mean craving for things that have been fried.

And that's my TMI for the day. What, you didn't WANT to know all the details of my reproductive cycle? How lame of you!

On a much less crotch related note, I just came from my PAWS Preview information meeting. It was... informative... and a meeting. I guess the previous description was... descriptive...
-crap- I gotta work on my adjectives. And I guess that means that I feel pleasantly neutral to the whole thing.

Okay, Jason finally asked if the music was annoying me.
To which I responded a bit too emphatically "YES!!!."
So I hooked him up with my diskman and told him that I don't love him any less for his music taste, I just don't want him to share it.
And then he mocked Belle and Sebastian as hipster wanker music. (by the way, that is not one of my favorite bands- a decent one, yes, but I'm not sure how they entered into this conversation.)
And then I mocked Vince Neil.
And then we were even.
And then we were silent.
Which brings me back to now.

2005-03-01 - 4:24 p.m.

Tired and overburdened, just like Sis.

So sleep deprived...
Yeah, I was up till 1:30 working on my metals project. Then I was up again at 5 to finish it. On top of that, I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in a solid week. And I'm still sick. Thus, I am cranky, cranky, cranky right now. I just ordered a pizza- I seldom do that, but I really wanted some greasy-cheesey goodness. And oh boy, was it good. Mmmmm, pizza.

As for the illness, I think I may need to go see a doctor and/or quit smoking if I'm ever going to get better, but both of those sound a bit extreme for my taste. I don't go to the doctor unless I've been sick for several weeks or have obviously broken/gouged something that I can't fix myself. The only exception to this rule is my supid annual gyno apointment. I go to that so I can get birth control pills. Yes, I am willing to go to the doctor if she can give me a worry-free sex life, but not for my health and well being.

In other news, I got the orientation job on campus. The problem? Lots of training and I won't be paid until AFTER orientation. And that's in the fall. Damn. Of course, when I do get paid I will get a paycheck big enough to buy an iPod Shuffle. Ah, yes, sweet iPod- I shall soon clutch thee! How long we have yearned for each other- it has been WEEKS since you hit the shelves. All the other gratuitously trendy young women carry you everywhere. How jealous I am- I want you all to myself, little iPod.

Yeah, that's the twisted delusion I shall be clinging to as I try to feign perkiness tonight at my first training session. Wish me luck on that whole "not falling asleep" thing.

So that meeting is at 7. Before I go there I have to go to Jo on the Go for Ryan Thies's art opening. I don't much want to go, but he has a sorta interesting (but according to both of them, platonic) relationship with my sister. Sis called me yesterday, sounding upset. She's said she was sick too (and believe me, she never admits being sick. She gets sick, sure, but she never takes a day off and always pretends she's fine. Thus, her calling to say she's sick is a truly remarkable situation and she must be in wretched shape.) Anyway, she said she was sick on top of having to work every nigh this week and having about a million stupid school things due. Thus, she cannot come to her charming Ryan's art opening. I'm covering for her and explaining to him that she really doesn't mean to blow him off and all the things one girl says for another in such a situation. Poor Sis. Since I'm the quintessential underacheiver, she had to become the quintessential overacheiver to balance the family out. Now she's way overstressed and overburdened. It's sad. Then again, I'm not such an underachiever these days. In fact, I'm stressed out and overburdened too! Hey- stop the truck- I want off!

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