D-Day

It's D-Day for a number of different reasons...

D for Decisions. I woke up at 4:30 am and couldn't get back to bed, so I got online and talked to Rachel and Goldbug for a while. I made them both try their hardest to convince me that it wasn't a good idea to move to Boston, but I'm still not convinced. I'm not leaving anytime soon (I am in the middle of a class, and have a $600 credit card bill to cover) but I don't think I want to wait for another 2 years until I graduate though... if I do graduate... which is seeming more and more unlikely.

So I tried to indulge my fantasies for a while and looked at U-Haul (over $1000 for a car-pulling truck that has 7 days and 2000 miles available) and at online apartment listings (seems like no one in Boston likes cats). Seems like those complications are more hindersome than the things Goldbug and Rachel were throwing at me. Of course, now I'm just thinking that one of my other mud friends in Boston could probably put me up for a bit while I look for a place...

D also stands for Dreams. After I went back to bed at 6:30, I had a very long, vivid, and sad dream. It started off that I was in a big, old, 3-story house in the countryside (not totally remote, but rural, looked like what I remember of Kentucky) with Jason and a bunch of other friends. We were all getting ready for a party together. I was happy to be visiting Jason (it was a visit, not a stay). One of our friends was separating piles of recyling items... and boy do I mean PILES, 5 garbage bags full... and I helped her haul them down to her van and then I went with her to recycle them. When we came back, everyone (dozens of people) was rushing around piling into cars to go to the party, and I lost track of Jason. However, a few mudders from the OMP got in the van wih me. Then, instead of the van, foop we were all walking in a big crowd down the side of the road, with our path roped off, almost like we were being herded along like cattle. I kept looking around for Jason and asking if people had seen him, but no one had. Then - foop - I was in some kind of train or subway with a whole lot of people I didn't recognize and a basketball team. I ran up to the front of the train and then slowly came down the aisle, reading everyone's names on the little plaques on the seat, trying to find Jason's. I was nearly to the back of the train when one of the basketball players asked me what was wrong, and I replied that I was on the wrong train. They felt sorry for me but there was nothing they could do. Finally the train stopped and we were somewhere out in the middle of a desert at a really ritzy type resort. I got out and was looking for the driver (now it was a train/bus) and sat near the ritzy resort's restaurant, and they seemed very put out that I was just waiting for someone and I didn't want to eat their steaks. Finally the driver came out, wearing some kind of silly plaid hat, talking to someone important at the resort. I talked to him and said that I had gotten on the wrong train and was in the wrong place, I was supposed to be at a party at a carnival way back in Boston (which looked like Kentucky)... He said that he could try and find someone to give me a ride home but his train had to continue on. At that point, some girl called my cell phone and asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with her and Ghada... I told her no, but I was out by the such-and-such train stop and I needed a ride back into town. She just kind of said, "Oh, okay, well, I'll tell Ghada" and hung up. The train/bus driver called some dispatcher to ask to send someone out to give me a ride down, but I was scared that would cost too much. Then my phone rang again, and this time it was the mysterious Ghada, and all she said was, "You don't want to go to the movies with us?" So I repeated to her what my predicament was and she said, "Hmmm... Let me talk to my mom." Then her MOM had to hear my story from me, and by then, I was just feeling totally helpless.

I don't remember anything after that, so that must've been when I woke up. I never got to see Jason in the dream again.

The third part of D-Day was dentist. I went to the dentist's for the first time in about 3-4 years... I got poked and prodded and scraped and all sorts of yucky stuff that they do there. I can't stand those little bits of paper that you bite on when they take X-rays, they always make me gag. I do like the little water-squirter/suction combo, however. When the actual dentist came to look at my teeth he said a lot of weird scary code words to the nurse (like "watch that DO" and "tooth #1 is partially ruptured" and "we have an amalgamated [something] in tooth #19") but it turns out that I only have 4 cavities, and none of them are bad enough to require anything like a root canal! Just normal routine cavities. Yay! Also, only 2 of my wisdom teeth have come out (they're the partially ruptured ones) but since they're not bothering me, they don't need to come out either! Hooray!

Another D is for DEAD, which the phones are this morning. There hasn't been a single call, and no messages were waiting for me when I came in. That's good.

Now for the odd random comments...

I'm dating Spiderman. That's just cool. :)

It's interesting to write a $600 check. I just don't write checks for that much money very often -- I don't often HAVE that much money. What was fun was writing the $8000 check for my car. I'm going to work on paying IT off after the credit card bill. Maybe I can have everything paid for by the time next summer rolls around.

I have the thermostat set to 76, but the room hardly ever goes above 70. I don't see why people want to keep their offices 20 degrees cooler than the outside. It's such a shock to the body! I wouldn't want to have a 90 degree house, but I don't like having to put on more clothes when I enter a building. I want to wear one outfit for a day, not two. *sigh*

I decided it was time to read a happy book, so I have Anthem by Ayn Rand out. It was the first Rand book I ever read, and yet the one I reread the least, so I might as well tackle it today. It's only 90 pages long, so maybe I'll finish it by the time work is over.

Well, this entry probably by now seems as long as my day here at work seems, so I will end it for all of you wondering when I'll stop talking...

D-Day

It's D-Day for a number of different reasons...

D for Decisions. I woke up at 4:30 am and couldn't get back to bed, so I got online and talked to Rachel and Goldbug for a while. I made them both try their hardest to convince me that it wasn't a good idea to move to Boston, but I'm still not convinced. I'm not leaving anytime soon (I am in the middle of a class, and have a $600 credit card bill to cover) but I don't think I want to wait for another 2 years until I graduate though... if I do graduate... which is seeming more and more unlikely.

So I tried to indulge my fantasies for a while and looked at U-Haul (over $1000 for a car-pulling truck that has 7 days and 2000 miles available) and at online apartment listings (seems like no one in Boston likes cats). Seems like those complications are more hindersome than the things Goldbug and Rachel were throwing at me. Of course, now I'm just thinking that one of my other mud friends in Boston could probably put me up for a bit while I look for a place...

D also stands for Dreams. After I went back to bed at 6:30, I had a very long, vivid, and sad dream. It started off that I was in a big, old, 3-story house in the countryside (not totally remote, but rural, looked like what I remember of Kentucky) with Jason and a bunch of other friends. We were all getting ready for a party together. I was happy to be visiting Jason (it was a visit, not a stay). One of our friends was separating piles of recyling items... and boy do I mean PILES, 5 garbage bags full... and I helped her haul them down to her van and then I went with her to recycle them. When we came back, everyone (dozens of people) was rushing around piling into cars to go to the party, and I lost track of Jason. However, a few mudders from the OMP got in the van wih me. Then, instead of the van, foop we were all walking in a big crowd down the side of the road, with our path roped off, almost like we were being herded along like cattle. I kept looking around for Jason and asking if people had seen him, but no one had. Then - foop - I was in some kind of train or subway with a whole lot of people I didn't recognize and a basketball team. I ran up to the front of the train and then slowly came down the aisle, reading everyone's names on the little plaques on the seat, trying to find Jason's. I was nearly to the back of the train when one of the basketball players asked me what was wrong, and I replied that I was on the wrong train. They felt sorry for me but there was nothing they could do. Finally the train stopped and we were somewhere out in the middle of a desert at a really ritzy type resort. I got out and was looking for the driver (now it was a train/bus) and sat near the ritzy resort's restaurant, and they seemed very put out that I was just waiting for someone and I didn't want to eat their steaks. Finally the driver came out, wearing some kind of silly plaid hat, talking to someone important at the resort. I talked to him and said that I had gotten on the wrong train and was in the wrong place, I was supposed to be at a party at a carnival way back in Boston (which looked like Kentucky)... He said that he could try and find someone to give me a ride home but his train had to continue on. At that point, some girl called my cell phone and asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with her and Ghada... I told her no, but I was out by the such-and-such train stop and I needed a ride back into town. She just kind of said, "Oh, okay, well, I'll tell Ghada" and hung up. The train/bus driver called some dispatcher to ask to send someone out to give me a ride down, but I was scared that would cost too much. Then my phone rang again, and this time it was the mysterious Ghada, and all she said was, "You don't want to go to the movies with us?" So I repeated to her what my predicament was and she said, "Hmmm... Let me talk to my mom." Then her MOM had to hear my story from me, and by then, I was just feeling totally helpless.

I don't remember anything after that, so that must've been when I woke up. I never got to see Jason in the dream again.

The third part of D-Day was dentist. I went to the dentist's for the first time in about 3-4 years... I got poked and prodded and scraped and all sorts of yucky stuff that they do there. I can't stand those little bits of paper that you bite on when they take X-rays, they always make me gag. I do like the little water-squirter/suction combo, however. When the actual dentist came to look at my teeth he said a lot of weird scary code words to the nurse (like "watch that DO" and "tooth #1 is partially ruptured" and "we have an amalgamated [something] in tooth #19") but it turns out that I only have 4 cavities, and none of them are bad enough to require anything like a root canal! Just normal routine cavities. Yay! Also, only 2 of my wisdom teeth have come out (they're the partially ruptured ones) but since they're not bothering me, they don't need to come out either! Hooray!

Another D is for DEAD, which the phones are this morning. There hasn't been a single call, and no messages were waiting for me when I came in. That's good.

Now for the odd random comments...

I'm dating Spiderman. That's just cool. :)

It's interesting to write a $600 check. I just don't write checks for that much money very often -- I don't often HAVE that much money. What was fun was writing the $8000 check for my car. I'm going to work on paying IT off after the credit card bill. Maybe I can have everything paid for by the time next summer rolls around.

I have the thermostat set to 76, but the room hardly ever goes above 70. I don't see why people want to keep their offices 20 degrees cooler than the outside. It's such a shock to the body! I wouldn't want to have a 90 degree house, but I don't like having to put on more clothes when I enter a building. I want to wear one outfit for a day, not two. *sigh*

I decided it was time to read a happy book, so I have Anthem by Ayn Rand out. It was the first Rand book I ever read, and yet the one I reread the least, so I might as well tackle it today. It's only 90 pages long, so maybe I'll finish it by the time work is over.

Well, this entry probably by now seems as long as my day here at work seems, so I will end it for all of you wondering when I'll stop talking...

more general rantings and ravings

As I slip more and more into whatever odd emotion that is that seems to be sucking me down these days, you'll probably see me posting a lot with just random thoughts. I feel like I'm splashing around in water, trying to find dry land. Or maybe that's me overdramatizing life again.

Every time I walk up to her, Matrix looks up at me and give a heart-breakingly adorable, "Mew?" I almost can't help but pick her up and give her a big kiss each time. I think she realizes how cute she is and how much of a hold she has on me.

Speaking of holds on me... sigh.... I can't let it go. I finished Wizard and Glass, I put it on the bookshelf and haven't touched it since, I've even read another book since then (Anthem, very short novella by Ayn Rand), but I still can't get it out of my head. The words of the climax scene speak in my mind when I'm lying in bed, or staring at the mud, or generally any time I'm not specifically focusing on something else. Even at the dentist's while I was being examined with a wide mouth I started thinking of Susan screaming, "I love thee, Roland!"... do you know how hard it is to hold back tears with your mouth open? It's not something people often have to do. My mind tells me that all I need to do is pick the books up again, read the whole scene again, cry over it again, and it will stop playing back the recording... for now. But I know that's not true. I know that those words will continue to cycle through my head unless I find some way to conquer them, or push them out. Maybe it's time to read Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged again... those run phrases through my head as well, but they are either thought-provoking or happy phrases, things that I like to stick up as quotes for other people to see.

Why is it that the word quixotic comes from Don Quixote, yet quixotic starts with a "kwik" and Quixote starts with a "key"? I've been looking up definitions for quixotic to try and get a wide overview of the word (www.onelook.com rules) and this is the definition I like the best: having intentions or ideas that are admirable but not practical. I think there are definitely times when I am quixotic.

The skin on my legs is STILL peeling.

Well, Jason's going to call sometime soon (I hope), so I'll wrapitup. (that looks right as all one word)

more general rantings and ravings

As I slip more and more into whatever odd emotion that is that seems to be sucking me down these days, you'll probably see me posting a lot with just random thoughts. I feel like I'm splashing around in water, trying to find dry land. Or maybe that's me overdramatizing life again.

Every time I walk up to her, Matrix looks up at me and give a heart-breakingly adorable, "Mew?" I almost can't help but pick her up and give her a big kiss each time. I think she realizes how cute she is and how much of a hold she has on me.

Speaking of holds on me... sigh.... I can't let it go. I finished Wizard and Glass, I put it on the bookshelf and haven't touched it since, I've even read another book since then (Anthem, very short novella by Ayn Rand), but I still can't get it out of my head. The words of the climax scene speak in my mind when I'm lying in bed, or staring at the mud, or generally any time I'm not specifically focusing on something else. Even at the dentist's while I was being examined with a wide mouth I started thinking of Susan screaming, "I love thee, Roland!"... do you know how hard it is to hold back tears with your mouth open? It's not something people often have to do. My mind tells me that all I need to do is pick the books up again, read the whole scene again, cry over it again, and it will stop playing back the recording... for now. But I know that's not true. I know that those words will continue to cycle through my head unless I find some way to conquer them, or push them out. Maybe it's time to read Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged again... those run phrases through my head as well, but they are either thought-provoking or happy phrases, things that I like to stick up as quotes for other people to see.

Why is it that the word quixotic comes from Don Quixote, yet quixotic starts with a "kwik" and Quixote starts with a "key"? I've been looking up definitions for quixotic to try and get a wide overview of the word (www.onelook.com rules) and this is the definition I like the best: having intentions or ideas that are admirable but not practical. I think there are definitely times when I am quixotic.

The skin on my legs is STILL peeling.

Well, Jason's going to call sometime soon (I hope), so I'll wrapitup. (that looks right as all one word)

Brian and Matrix looking cute

Brian and Matrix looking cute