I kind of feel like writing about certain things cheapens them when I can't write about them well enough to do them justice. But I'll give it a whirl and you'll just have to take my word for it.
I found my life last night; it was hiding behind the couch the whole time, conspiring with the VCR remote control. Houseguest Derrick and I had a three-hour long heart-to-hart [sic] about Why Things Are The Way They Are and how things really ought to be. Turns out he's been recovering from a heroin addiction for the past two weeks and thus the weird vibe in the apartment. Also so happens Derrick had been warned about Aaron before Aaron even moved to Seattle -- had been told that bad luck follows him around and to watch out for him. So why didn't anybody tell me? If Derrick and Matt had such crushes on me (confirmed last night as well) why would they let me fall in love with this horrible person? There was some stuff thrown in there about death and fears and other everything/nothing bullshit. After a glass of wine and three vodka cokes I have my doubts that any of this actually happened so you'll have to forgive me the details, or distinct lack thereof.
This girl Tiffany, a good friend from my boarding school days, was randomly in town last night so she came over. I haven't seen her for seven years, have talked to her once the phone once in that time period, and have corresponded maybe once a year, but we still got on fabulously. I mean, considering I'm a corporate whore and she's a train-hopping hippie. She came with two friends and those type of kids are fun because they're easy to rile up. Somebody mentions the election and then there's a full-on conspiracy-theory-ridden blast on the government. Wooooo.
I'm really awfully sick of all this depression bullshit. It's like, I'm fine, work's great, relationship's good, bills paid, everything's ok, and one miniscule thing will go wrong -- somebody will give me a weird look or not thank me for doing something or I'm having a bad hair day -- and everything goes to shit. And it sucks that I can't just brush it off instead of having to deal with every hindrance, every pebble in the road.
I'm really awfully sick of the bus as well. I think I'm claustrophobic because I develop a phantom rash whenever I'm on the bus nowadays and it's really difficult to scratch yourself when you're smooshed between The Smelliest Man In The World and the Backpacker With An Oversized Bag. Maybe I'm just allergic to annoyance.
Why I am getting all these random hits from French websites?
one year ago today: nothing.
two years ago today: "...an suddenly, life is beautiful." and "in other news, work sucks, friends are wonderful, and the sky is blue."
three years ago today: "suzy is my fake lesbian lover"