warm up this engine-

this morning began around 7am with me attempting to persuade myself back into sleep for a fleeting few mins before rising to the occasion of cinnamon biscuits (really good, by the way) coffee and Good Morning America--and National lampoons somethingorother that for whatever reason captured me for a good solid 25mins...at least...then I tended to readying myself and left the "lakehouse" as it has come to be called...but really its the "house on 5 strategically placed endangered fish ponds"...lakehouse is way easier

1hr20mins later, me and Avril Lavigne rolled up to the Atl abode to drop off groceries, I left her (briefly), and ran in, grabbed an apple, a banana, and my nalgene in mid sprint toward the door to catch the 11:30 subway. I hadn't changed the water in my Nalgene b/c it was the same full bottle of water I'd planned to take Friday but forgot, and to me, it seems like being a closed container, the water is still ok. During the ride to school the only person who's ever really criticized my drinking "old" water (because I do this often, esp in the car, and on the trail) called me and I dropped the line that I had last weeks water with me. To which Kevin replies "oh gad rachel, dont drink that water...I mean it" ....so maybe I said I wouldn't (I probably did, say that, I mean) but I did...drink it, that is. And I've been really proud of myself about drinking more water since the acquisition of my new green bottle. Thursday I got down a full 96oz thru the course of the day, and also peed about that many times.

SOOOO....About 20mins before class numero uno was over I was down to about 6oz of water when suddenly I spotted a curious little occurrence going on inside my bottle. Surely it's not what I think it is. But, indeed, there were little white dots floating around in the remaining water. No doubt they had been growing on the surface over the weekend and were jostled into submersion and I didn't notice (imagine that) so I, with quiet contemplation, begin to wonder :

#1 if anyone else had noticed I was drinking molded water
#2 about how much mold I had ingested so far
#3 if the dull ache in my gut was from the mold
#4 if the ache was imagined b/c I have a tendency toward hypochondria, and
#5 that maybe it would turn out to be ok seeing as how mold makes penicillin

eh?

Well I'm not dead yet, and I'm on bottle #2...which, upon finishing, will put me at my daily 8-10...then onward if I can manage...drinking water is my new hobby, and there better be some good thing coming out of it too...because finding a restroom every 30mins gets to be a hassle.

During Sexuality and Society we discussed how "gender" in our society is still attemptedly crammed into two boxes of male and female...and after the discussion of all the different "types" of gender, we constructed a gender line, with arnold Schwartzenegger (sp) on one end and (aftermuch deliberation) Halle Berry at the other...so Janet Reno was on Arnolds team and Richard Simmons was on with Halle...and we were left with wondering where we fell on that line and Had we changed over time?

I dont know? Have I? Have you ever noticed deliberation (a fav word of mine) is De-liberation- we weren't quite as liberated after that decision

back to me (as the other rb would say) I guess maybe I am a little more comfortable using a "male-style" wallet now than I would have if I was still attending school or living in the twilight zone of woodruff (which is beginning to encompass most of spartanburg county, as far as chips are concerned)...but the wallet is bad ass, and carrying a stupid GIRL wallet is just too much sometimes. No doubt I carry the wallet inside a bag that could serve as a purse instead of my back pocket (unless I need to) and aside from the fact that I carry as many small books in that bag as possible throughout my day, it IS my purse, but it's not a purse, it's a satchel...carried along beside my Bookbag...theres a difference.


now we're onto our last leg of energy
6% to be exact, I'm gonna get a warning soon-
theres ice on the ground
and I'm
moving
into
the
process
of
ending

all natural (from concentrate)

it seems no one notices those little words. now, for all the world to know! from concentrate means TOILET WATER!!!! ok, not really toilet water, but my mother affirmed it's a well known fact they dont exactly use drinking water to deconcentrate concentrated fruit juice (and MY mom is always right, usually). But if you really like the stuff and are too lazy to reach through the shelves into the orchard for a farmhand to hand you a "Natures Own" jug of nonconcentrate or if you just REALLY like the from concentrate stuff, at least just buy the concentrate (it's way cheaper) and mix it with your own toilet water...then at least you know where it's coming from...

but for some of you who might be confused...
ahem...no, you dont HAVE to use toilet water

so today was a good day. by good I mean that even though I got into my first class 3 minutes late because the line at starbucks was so long and even though I spilled a portion of my tripletallnowhipmochaforrachel over my hand while entering class, at least the class was good...and really moving...i think at one point the professor almost cried. talk about passionate. he's one of the most passionate professors I have this semester...besides my sex and society prof...and that just comes with the territory...it would suck to have a non-passionate pro-sex professor--then what would be the point?

then I went to hear another professor speak about Involuntary Celibacy...as the title of her seminar indicated "I can't get no satisfaction"...
Sadly, I didn't really learn anything except that involuntary celibates usually have really high expectations of WHO they want. One guy who she said filled out her survey said he wanted a "tall slender blonde who is educated, "politically savvy," and who has her own career"...(well who the hell doesn't?) but this man, in particular, was an overweight computer tech (no offense to comp techs, you make the world go round these days) who worked from the basement of a small firm in rural texas and barely cleared 23k annually...(then of course he needs a woman with a career)

but, if I may be so bold

WTF?

right...so next time you find yourself wondering why you can't get no satisfaction, who exactly are you wanting to get it FROM? maybe you should just settle for the chunky girl in accounts payable who's had a crush on you for years? you never know...she might just rock your world...and she has a great personality!

the professor giving the speech kept hinting that she may give a solution to involuntary celibates...but it never really reached what I would call a solution, just information about what other people have done...turns out the sooner you address it, the better....

isn't that just the story of our lives-

my married with children friend who met me there (despite the fact that we were both hungry and intended to get lunch until I decided to detour via the speakers auditorium) kept elbowing me (she's recently come into NONinvoluntarycelibacy) saying "she needs to survey me! I'd tell her 'how did I cope? Masturbation baby!'"...to which I finally gave in and said "ok lets go get lunch"...that seemed to make her happy...hah...and over lunch I made the mistake of asking how her sex life was now that it was rekindled, and she said "hell, ANY sex is good...and at least now my hand isn't so tired!"....classic
you're thinking (my god, is this what women talk about over lunch?) well, yea, sometimes...you DONT?

honestly, I think society should be a lot more open about sex and sexuality, so I'm going to make it a point to mention this stuff on my blog occasionally...if for no other reason than shock therapy. There you have it. No worries, no personal stuff, and everything remains anonymous- but you know who you are....


hahaha...just kidding

maybe

but for the record she and I REALLY talked about the latest book we both happened to get and read over christmas break called MANS SEARCH FOR MEANING...by Dr. Frankl. He is a concentration camp survivor, a psychiatrist, and one of the founders of Logotherapy. Something I think can be summed up as a way of living that focuses on suffering. With a great emphasis on being worthy of your suffering. So there.

today I have consumed 64 ounces of water. Proudly. And I'm on my 3rd bottle. And I'm officially about to float out of the computer lab

...about that time eh chap?

right-o

do vikings even talk?

...compliments of last nights conversation...I promised I would use it as my blog title...because I was the dodo-head that said it and Kevin systematically keeps count of things I say that are a little, how you say, blonde, and it made "the list". Well, you see, I was trying to talk like a viking, and had initially mistaken their utterances with those of pirates and said "arrrgh!" and was quickly corrected, so then I said "uh...thor!" because thats the only viking sounding word I know and the only reason I know it is because one time on Duck Tails (ohwoohoo)Adventures they were captured by vikings and that's the only sound they made I can remember...actually they spoke English...naturally...but it all sounded like "thor" to me...so I, in a fit of desparation b/c i didn't know how to imitate a viking, said "(sigh) I dont know how to talk viking...Do vikings even talk?"

oh yes yes i pick up on the self-centered connotations of that statement. it's ok, for anyone who is turning red and swelling with anger, relax, it's all in jest. I know vikings talk. How do you think they figured out how to raid all those villages? (actually I think they probably could with just grunts and nods, and the image of it is really funny)

this morning one of my professors made a comment about how he was watching Dr.Phil. (which spurred laughter before he even got to the point) and for all who read this who dont already know Dr. Phil is a pathetic schmuck, well, I'm sorry for you. He's like the McDonalds 99cent menu of psychological fast food. You can become addicted to it, but is about as bad as it gets as far as health goes. And I will be the first to admit once you see it you feel this incredible urge to sit and partake. Dont let it happen to you. Unless you watch it to make fun of him....that's just fine, and funny! Anyway, last night Bill Cosby was on. I didn't see it, thankfully. But in class it started a conversation about Dr. Huxtible and the distorted view of "see, black people CAN get ahead and be happy, theres no problem" because in reality, theres a big ole gap we like to ignore, and shows like The Cosby Show help us with that illusion- anyway, I like Bill Cosby. I got nothin but love--but the idea of him being on the Dr Phil show. Well, I dont really want to know, bless his heart, so I gave up imagining why.

hell, I forgot where I was going with that one-sided conversation,
and I'm running out of free time...must depart. Sad isn't it?

ciao-

yes virgina, saturday is the 21st.

I notice that upon realizing that the REAL purpose of blogging is for entertainment, the pressure rises to be, well, entertaining. Sometimes I think "I should post something nice, like how much I love my friends or how beautiful the sky is today" and then momentarily I realize..."shit, no one wants to read that crap"...we'd rather slow down to see if theres a bloody arm hanging out of one of the cars in a nasty 3 vehicle collision...I mean, we need to get SOME kind of compensation for sitting in traffic for so long...

now all of you that snickered at that are going strait to hell

so its Friday which means I officially survived week 2 of spring classes. It's unusually warm outside today too...so I have to decide whether to go rip the Verizon bastards a new tush-hole for screwing up our account, again...or to go ride my bike. The latter is obviously more appealing. If I dont go to the trail, I'll risk the weather not being this good tomorrow. Hmmm.

aw geez. On mad TV the other night (I dont know if it was a re-run or not, I rarely know how to watch tv usually it's used as a noise maker so I dont feel so alone in the dungeon while I'm fiddling around with something I probaly shouldn't be paying so much attention to....wait, that sounded bad...I mean like reorganizing my refridgerator or scrupulously scrubbing the kitchen floor on hands and knees wondering how the hell I alone can get it that dirty...I blame it on the cat)

see, totally off the subject in just a matter of seconds

on mad tv was CrankYankers (do we all know those little puppets) and the guy was calling a 900 number and a woman answered and he was complaining that his wife wouldn't make farm animal noises while they were having sex. I was of course hooked at this point. Not because I want my wife to make farm animal noises and needed the soution from a comedy show, I'm not even married...and farm animal noises might spur some laughter, but certainly not...you know. So then he gets the lady to quack and moo and then he gets her to impersonate famous people while he's...you know. So he's...you know(ing)...and she starts an impersonation of John Wayne and he's all like...and then he realizes he's (you know(ing) to John Wayne...so he stops and shares with her his realization....so she does Lauren Bacall. Then suddendly I realize I was partly named after Lauren Bacall...now my middle name is doing telephone porno through crank yankers

...now it's later in the day. ok, it's tomorrow. I'm going on blogger strike until next week. ciao.

i steal scrap paper

I'm presently waiting for a print job to finish. I think the printer here has it in for me because it always slows down on mine so everyone behind me gets all ticked. Then the printer plugs out the next persons job really fast so it was OBVIOUSLY my papers that slowed their jobs down. Really, I mean, it's printing one page every 30 seconds or so, how embarrassing. It's just a PDF. Whats the big deal.

I collect the paper that students leave on the printer if it's not printed on, or if theres just a date or something at the bottom. So there, I confess. I grab it and use it at home for printing random stuff or rough drafts of the blue million papers I have to write over the course of this semester. Saves a little on money. And I see it as a contribution to the environment. I mean, otherwise it would go into the trash or maybe even into a recycling bin only to be reprocessed into new paper- again

so today I'm trying to catch up on all that the MLK weekend put me behind on. Reading for classes being the main thing. Last night I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to finish the NIGHT novel for my Holocaust class and we're supposed to be done with it today and have a review, but the review was originally due on the 20th and then Tuesday he changed it to the 18th so he said we could turn it in either day even tho the 20th is a Saturday, numbskull. Not that that mattered b/c I'd be turning it in tomorrow anyway, late, but now it's not...yay.

Has anyone ever started typing and not looked at where their fingers are on the keyboard b/c you do it so much you kindof dont have to anymore? And suddenly you're typing words and it looks like this:

o, s dyif[of gtrslom ofopy nrvsidr zo vsmyd hry yjod dyigg tohjy/

and then you think "whoa, what's wrong with this keyboard?" and then you realize you were one key off and USER ERROR sinks it's ugly teeth in-

The ski weekend was a success. At least we actually made it to Boone and did something that I think would qualify as skiing from 10am-4:30pm. It started snowing on our last two runs down the mtn...especially the last run--Kev let me use his face mask because my face was wet and felt nearly frozen by the time we got about 1/4 of the way down. The temperature alone was quite tolerable, but coupled with frozen precipitation it was a pretty painful experience. At first I wanted to be tough and refuse the offer but he insisted and then I figured well, he has a beard. That has to count for something. Doesn't it? Does it? Joseph learned to snowboard and I think he and his match both had a good time. Then we managed our way homeward.

Upon leaving the Woodruff house I finally did what everyone who owns a roof mounted bike rack fears doing. Yes, indeed. I raked that sucker right off the top of my car by driving under a stretch of metal cord that I myself had erected across an offshooting drive from our main driveway to prevent certain trespassers from using it. So not only did I destroy my rack, I also felt like a real dumbass for falling victim to my own booby trap. Such is life. The bike survived without a scratch though (that I can tell), at least it still rides like a charm. And that's all that really matters.

This weekend I'm southbound to visit mama Barnes and daddy Matthews in Columbus. Good ole Mike Mahoney is in town visiting from Houston so I'll probably see him at some point. And if we're all lucky perhaps the brother and Mattie will decide to show up too. All I know is that even though last weekend was extended, I'm glad this weekend is here now...for some reason these few days have been hectic and blurry.

oh hey, the print job is done...

peace bros ;) hope you all have a nice weekend.

LIVESTRONG

hello hello hello, this is your chaplain speaking, the time is now one twenty two pm on a blustery thursday afternoon--praise the Lord.

I have been a negligent blogger. Hmmm....so sorry. A brief recap of events. Sunday night I snuck to Warm Springs under the alias of Dr.Girlfriend but secretly enjoyed it as a calm before the Monday morning storm. I also balanced my checkbook...one of those threetimesayear things. Monday being the first day of Spring classes, I realize I have officially been at GSU for nearly a year and a half now...ta da.

And presently the wind is about to blow some of the GSU flags off their...flag holding things. The term has escaped me.

Tuesday night I was informed that our house (my apt) had been burglarized sometime that day. Fortunately the intruders didn't think to come in the very open (then) windows of the dungeon (my apt. hah). And typically the house would be a disappointment for anyone who wasn't interested in stealing junk or books (books being a treasure to me...one mans junk....) but Jean sadly left her door unlocked, and her room was ransacked. I hear from Peter (our newest "visiting" house member) that her room was pretty messy anyway, and they can only determine missing her camera and a coin bucket so far. We think it was neighborhood kids. I spent yesterday morning burglar-proofing my apt with PVC pipes to wedge in the windows that don't have locks. Brilliant! The last time I tried cutting one of those pipes (there were a bunch of them stashed in my closet for some reason or another)Rob and I used a saw I stole from our Woodruff house...this time, however, I wised up and used the pressing iron. The pressing iron! Brilliant!
Hah.

Yesterday was a very nasty day for me. I had a perpetual headache that by the end of the day (after medicine and water continued to fail me as remedies) was beginning to feel more like some sort of illness. I actually think it was comparable to mild poisoning. You know, like food poisoning, but without upset stomach. Tho the necessity of finding an escape route to vomit did cross my mind a few times. Then I started thinking it was a migraine...but I haven't had one of those in so long I thought it wasn't really possible. Anyway, I was trying to make it through for my 4:30pm class. So around 3:45 I staggered into the dark classroom in hopes of putting my head down for a few mins before someone barged in an threw on the lights. One guy came in to use the computer, but he left the lights off and didn't' say anything, which was nice. Then the cleaning lady came in but she said she'd rather leave the lights off too, bless her. Then two snobby men came in and sat down and turned on the lights and the cleaning lady yelled at them and one of the guys said "well you can't clean very well in the dark can you?" and she said "find a piece of paper on the floor over there and then ask me that question again"....cunning.
Anyway, the lights stayed on, the cleaning lady fussed for a few more mins and then left, and more students started trickling in. I began noticing they were not your typical behavioral science students. Some were even wearing suits. I grew increasingly suspicious (was I really in the wrong class? the last time I did this I was a sophomore at a new school? I KNOW where I am this time...what's the dealio?) so I took out my schedule and rechecked "Forensic Social Work GCB 629 4:30pm-7pm"....I was in the right place, it was 4:30ish, maybe there was a class change. I waited for the instructor. When he walked in I knew something was amiss. Picture a 1980s car salesman. Probably about 45-47yrs old, tall, a tad overweight, scruffy dark blonde hair, rose colored (aviatorstyle) glasses, a striped short sleeve button up and pleated & cuffed dark kahki pants. You know the kind. It was all wrong. Sociology profs wear jeans. Well, at least if they're under 50. So I leaned over and asked the girl to my left what she was there for...."Real Estate 8330"...."ah" said I. So after a moment of contemplation of what to do...I excused myself from the classroom. The prof followed me out the door and asked if I was sure I wanted to leave and I said I was in the wrong class, my schedule must have changed. So I staggered (still in quite a substantial amount of pain) to the bookstore because there were a few chapters I needed to read before my books come in the mail, and on my way to Marta from the bookstore I saw Jiggy James sitting on a wall outside the student center. He saw me too, but then I was intercepted by a man selling books on how to do Yoga "uhhhhh....no" said I, and continued to my fellow aspiring psychologist. So I conversed with Jiggy and waved at his grandma when she came to give him money for parking.
News of the century. Jiggy says his new girlfriend hates me. What a shocker. This is always a humorous phenomena to me because many of these women hate me without ever meeting or knowing me. This is also why it takes about 3 fingers to count how many female friends I have. Real friends, I mean. I dont know whether I should feel bad or good. On one hand its a real inconvenience to have to feel like theres a chance some psycho bitch is going to attack me from behind for no reason (oh wait, no, because I am a seasoned friend of the guy she JUST met) and then that mild feeling of flattery, because I have such an influence on these peoples lives...I mean, they've literally handed me the power. Just call me She-Ra. Jealousy is such a waste of time. Really. To all the ladies, if you dont trust him, leave him! (same goes for guys) So the whole time we were sitting outside (after I found out she was a GSU student) I would occasionally say "oh god is that her!" and James would jump up...and then later I'd say "oh god, she's not into athletics is she?"...hah...really I said something every time a blonde walked by. And he freaked every time. So I used his reaction to illustrate how he is getting himself into another bad relationship. Getting it on with a psychobitch just aint cool yo. Even worse is that I invited him to the Social Neuroscience lab to see if wonderful professor Vanman would give him a spot, and James got it, so he got his research practicum, and consequently we're working together in the lab all semester. I bet she's thrilled about that.
ANywho.
While I was sitting there making Jigs freak about every girl who passed by, I looked up my schedule online and noticed my 4:30 pm is on Thursdays, not Wednesdays. So there you have it.
Then I went home and went to bed. Woke up around 9 and read two chapters in my Holocaust book. Drank some H2O, and went back to bed. This morning I felt better. I even played music while I was getting ready and then I took some vitamins. At 7:30 I still had a headache, but it was gone by the time I got to school. Met Christyna for lunch and talked about her Sexual Identity class (in which the text is titled "Queer Studies"...awesome) and talked about why people order Caesar salad with dressing OTHER than Caesar, and how that kindof defeats the purpose...because the guy at the counter said "what kind of dressing"...and I kindof gave him this "what kind of dressing do you USUALLY use on Caesar salad?" look...haha...we laughed...but I get it. Some people want romaine lettuce and croutons and parmesan but no anchovy and egg dressing, right? Ok. but then it's not a caesar salad. just so you know.

So today has been good. Tomorrow is Friday. I have a meeting at 10:30, and then I'm going to a seminar with Christyna at 1pm. Then I'll be waiting to see if any ONE (one who must be rebelling against email these days, but who used to give it pretty frequently and was GOOD at it, I might add-which I'm naturally a little disappointed about-but, no worries) feels up to a weekend of skiing, and if so, we'll head to SC tomorrow evening. Jo and Karlie will be coming up Saturday, and Sunday we'll be in Boone, NC. Hopefully.

Thats the plan. But as we all know, especially if its happening in the life of me, plans rarely follow through. So if everything goes as planned, it's an official sign of the apocalypse (god told me so) and everyone can proceed to having apocalyptic sex (because, I mean...what would Lance do?) Quick! Everyone! Consult your bracelets!

Monday is Martin Luther King Jr. Day...in case anyone forgot why they dont have to go to work/school. And, as has been drilled into our little studious heads all week:
"Have a day-on, not a day-off"

peace-

send me on my way

hello! didn't anybody notice today is friday?
uh huh...because I didn't. Not until around 8am when I was talking about this weekend and realized that whoops this IS the weekend. Essentially. alright, that's cool I think. Except school starts on Monday. Which is one day closer to graduating, but, you know...being burned out since last summers 13hrs in 7weeks stunt of mine (and successfully keeping a high gpa at that) has kindof put a damper on my academic enthusiasim. Although I am sortof excited that since I'm now finished with my psych degree I am taking an entirely new set of classes for spring...that set being for sociology, my minor, and also I'm stoked that I got into a research practicum with the Social Psych department and the way cool professor Dr. Vanman. Wait...something else totally bad ass is that I am one of 20 or so that found and snagged a spot in a forensics course secretly cross-listed with sociology. how sweet is that? my advisor patted me on the back...she didn't even know it was there...she was looking at my capp and she's like "I thought you were only going to take 4 classes next semester but you have another one on here" and me I'm all pround and grinning "heck yea that forensic soc. course" and she's "what?" and starts checking and i'm thinking "oh shit what if it was all in my imagination and i only THINK i have this imaginary class...then not only do i not get to take that class, but it also means I'm completely neurotic", but then you know, she's up at me with a big grin too "well good for you girl" ....she's from ethiopia so maybe their humor isn't as pervasive on screen, but it was funny the way she said it...shes usually really straitfaced and monotone. Insert sigh of relief. No looney bin for me.

Yet.

But I think I've inadvertantly recruited a few who might let me just live in schizophrenic bliss in their basement (beit amongst thousands of bags of recyclables) when I finally loose the last of my marbles. If all else fails and I can't fly away (from people in white suits bearing syringes) on my unicorn steed, at least my brother might dig me a hole under my moms house...since she doesn't have a basement--and shes one of the two recruits. I just volunteered her.


I came upon REMs out of time album on Waynes mac the other day. So that's what I'm listening 2.


"...linger on your pale blue eyes"


that's what I do...ages of you

this is Rachel, signing off.

This is not a bill.

The new Bradley Library where my mom works had their grand opening this morning. I got up early but was still later than planned for breakfast at the cute little Cafe 222 nook a block from moms house. Then I went to the library and saw mom and had the grand tour. Its REALLY nice. The whole shabang was almost 30 million. That's a rounded number because I can't remember if mom said 25 or 28. I mean it's REAL nice. If you (assuming other people than me come to my blog) ever visit Columbus, or if you already live here, go there. Be amazed.

Blogging has become something I've had to try to define to several different people recently. And I dont know if I'm getting closer or farther away from an accurate working definiton. I mean, what IS it? A place where we talk about whats on our minds, but not the same as email...some of us just post humor...some of us make our blogs tributes..."my love is building a building"...some of us get ourselves into lots of trouble by putting not so smart comments on other peoples blogs...but I enjoy it for the most part. Blogging, that is. Thanks Blogger.

The weather is gorgeous. It was nearly 80 all day yesterday. Or at least it felt like it. It was probably more like 76, but there again with a bit of a rounding action, viola`, 80 degrees at your service. I changed the oil and air filters in both our Hondas, fixed moms off-track window, cussed a lot, and washed and waxed my car. AND discovered my mother has run over something (again) and broken the exhaust pipe leading into her muffler. I started her car and it sounded like it had a souped up exhaust system in it, you know, the hurt bumble bee effect, and I thought "surely not MY mom, surely not, please no" and so me being the genius I am, got out and went to the back of the car and leaned right over in front of the exhaust to listen. Consequently I administered myself a face full of fumes. I quickly scanned my surroundings to make sure no one saw the incredibly brainless thing I just did, then turned the car off and reexamined it's underbelly to find the broken pipe. So until she has it fixed, my mother is an extra-polluting hurt bumble bee driver. Joseph suggested I buy her a "FlowMaster" sticker and put it on the back window. Hah.

Back to the weather. Today seems a little cooler, but still very nice. Over pancakes I fiddled with a crossword and discussed with Mr. Strickland the flowering Camillias (sp) and the importance of bees, and why this kind of weather tricks them into eating all their winter food and venturing out for flowers that aren't here yet, only to find that it's still winter, and they're out of food. But this kind of weather also reminds me of spring time and how much I enjoy the coming of spring in Columbus, Georgia.

Yesterday mom informed me with a sigh that we're (she and I) moving out west and getting good jobs to pay off her debt. Then we're coaxing her parents out to El Paso, TX, abandoning the remaining neurotics of our family, and becoming happy people. I'm glad one of us has a plan. I guess I'll be seeing all you cartoons in the southwestern funnies.

I guess it's about that time.

"No one, not even the rain, has such small hands."
e.e.cummings

two thousand and five mirror images

I survived the holiday scramble. And now have returned to my little blog...that I have neglected for a while now because theres no internet where I've been. Hah. No, really. Anyway, my Christmas was good. The family was cheerful and thankfully saved the drama until after dinner and presents were opened, but all seems to be ok there for all intensive purposes (as long as they leave the Barnes out I'm fine, and they can peck and scratch to the end amongst themselves). I'm sure we all have that from time to time. Sadly. It's just too bad that some people are so so SO incredibly petty. Nuf said.
Last night, new years eve, we were at Waynes and had a big crowd of people and everyone was happy and drunk and we all hugged and kissed and cheered in the new year. So it was a great time for all of us.
Waynes friends Craig and Ashlee are up and I just returned from eating with them at the Indian Resturant...a new development in Columbus that we hope lasts but theres a curse or something here that keeps anything different or cultural out (besides the chinese buffets, because they're everywhere, and I dont consider them cultural at all, do people really think they eat like Americans in the east? gimme a break).
Anyway, the curse is called old money and tradition. I think George Bush would love it here. When we moved here from Woodruff it was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire, but at least we're out of the pan, thank God. And once in the fire you can crawl out easily, so I'm enjoying myself in Atlanta.
Speaking of...I was talking to Kev last night about how much I love where I live. There are a lot of places that I would like to spend some time in, like Savannah and areas of north Georgia...but in Atl we're within and hour of anything. And that, my friends, is cool runnings.
Hokay...so, anyway. My new year is off to a great start so far. The weekend is almost over, which means Monday is closer, and Monday one of my favorite people in the world is flying into Hartsfield International Airport around 6pm. Yay :) I'm wondering if I can convince him to go see The Fockers with me. Hah. God I've waited SO LONG for the movie to come out. At last, it is with us.
I hope everyone had a happy 2005, and I hope everyone drank a lot and has as bad a headache as I do right now. Mwahahah.
Peace-