Forward



Man, I'm hungry, but I've told myself I'm not allowed to leave the #!$*@ library until this paper is done, so I guess I'll just have to be hungry a little longer. At least I'm getting some words on paper today, although it's scattered and all over the place. (Thesis statement, what?) I also have to keep removing ellipses from every other sentence. I have an unhealthy love affair with the ellipse, which anyone who's ever corresponded with me via email is probably already familiar with. I just love the ... and how it connects thoughts and ideas so vaguely, or how at the end of a sentence, the ... lets the mind linger on the ideas put forth in the subject-verb-object of the words just read...



It really is a beautiful thing.



I am all kinds of confused after springing forward at 2am last night. I had a fitful sleep, filled with overactive dreams and events that might have been real. I tried unsuccessfully to emerge from bed on three separate occasions, at three separate hours. The first time I managed to make it to the fridge and grab a bottle of orange juice, which I took back to bed with me. The second time I grabbed a bowl of leftover popcorn, which I took back to bed with me. The third time I got some coffee brewing and made the bed, in order to deter me falling back into its embrace.



It's amazing how I can write all sorts of other things except the very thing I need to be writing.

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Something to make me---and you---smile



Don't make fun, but I totally sing along every time I hear "Fergalicious." It came on the other day when I was riding in CV's car, and I couldn't resist.



"So delicious...caselicious..."



CV cracked up and said, "Caselicious? Really?"



"Yeah, you love it," I replied, and then we both burst into a delirous giggle fit.

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Blocked



I think my last post was a little bit of a downer. This one isn't, I'm afraid, going to be much better, but I'll try to veer away from the overly melodramatic or histrionic.





I've got a major case of academic writer's block, which is something I generally sneer at as an excuse for not doing work. So here I am, all blocked up, and instead of feeling mopey and sorry for myself I'm all snarly and sneering. Snarl snarl. I thought going and working at the library would help, but when I got down there this morning everything was locked up tight for spring break. Snarl. I came home, unsure what to do with myself. I briefly thought a good cry might loosen my brain a bit (it's been a while) but before I could get serious about thinking sad thoughts Rob called, and asked if I wanted to do brunch.





I found it more than a little amusing, after yesterday's post about ex-marriages and whatnot, so of course I agreed. We ate, I got some cds from his place and played with the kitties, we stopped by Publix and I got a few groceries; a completely lazy, wasted Saturday afternoon was had by all.





Now I'm back at the ranch, so to speak, and still nothing---still no words for what I need to write. Damn it. It's like my brain has just refused to go on.

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I couldn't tell you if I tried



I hate talking about certain things. Ok, lots of things. Mainly personal things; things about myself and how I got to where I am today. Most of these things are just painful, or perhaps a little shameful, or both.



My former marriage falls squarely in the realm of personal-things-that-are-painful-and-more-than-a-little-shameful.



It's not even been a year since Rob and I seperated for the last time, and only six months since the divorce was finalized. There are still tender places where there was once an "us" and now there is only a "me". I still have moments of confusion about what the hell happened. I have many, many thoughts and memories that I can't even begin to describe, because, truthfully, a dissolved marriage is a little like a stolen Picasso: only you, the thief, can ever look at it and appreciate it, because it is an illicit thing that no one else can ever see. (Maybe that's a poorly executed metaphor, but it's the closest I can come to describing the intimate unspokenness of something that exists simply in the used-to-be.) I don't know what to say when people ask questions...like so many things, I often wish people just wouldn't ask.



Sometimes I hate the past.

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Overslept, and a cryptic txt mssg awaited me upon awakening



The txt was from a phone number that wasn't in my phone...but it seemed vaguely familiar. It was a 678 number. It said if I ever saw Karl (?!) again, to tell him he's an asshole. Um, ok. I'll try to remember to do that.



I am still a little confused and reeling from my trip ("Wait...where am I again?"). I also have homework I need to get done this weekend ("Wait...isn't this supposed to be spring break?"). Also, watching Labyrinth with a couple of people who have never seen it before makes one very self-conscious about how ridiculous the whole thing is ("Omigod, look at David Bowie's bulge! Ewww!").

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Six Girls and a Bathroom, the zany new sitcom starring Merle, Bonnie & casetheplace!



Major props to Bonnie on the whole "six girls and a bathroom" comment. Because when we were staying with Merle in Harlem Sunday and Monday nights, that was totally our life. Throw in radiator-based heating (I felt like I was back in my old elementary school) and an elevator that smelled inexplicably like cat pee and you have Merle's apartment building. It had so much character you wouldn't believe. I loved it.



Also, Merle's roomates (at least the two that I met) were very nice and sweet and gracious for letting us invade their living room. Also, it was discovered that Merle isn't even human, but is indeed a femmebot. Since neither Bonnie or I are Austin Powers, she didn't try to kill us outright, but instead tried to make us drop dead from sheer exhaustion while trying to follow her insanely packed schedule. That girl is an unnatural force of nature. Completely amazing. And fun.



We did so many things I don't even know where to begin. There are photos, and I'd love to post them, but I feel like I'd have to write explanations for them and right now I'm too tired still, and wound up, and god-knows-what-all to do so. I also have to finish writing this paper that I was supposed to finish before my trip...but there were so many other schoolwork things to do, too, and I had to pack, and what on earth possessed me to take such a heavy load this semester??



The point is, I'll get to posting photos and whatnot when I get to it.



YEAH! SPRING BREAK 2007!

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It's funny because it's true





Awww, they've gone and made a show about when my friend Loy lived in Atlanta! I miss that boy ("It's not boy; it's Loy!") I once helped him move at 9 o'clock at night, in the middle of the ghetto, from one halfway house to another halfway house. No lie. My car also got stuck in the mud. At the new halfway house. No lie. Totally verifiable truth. Promise. Just ask Loy.

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ADDENDUM: Omigod, it was created by and stars Oscar from The Office!! I'm in love...