Thankfully its cold enough outside that I can wrap myself in my hermitude and not feel like I'm missing much. Sunday's MRI was a bit of an event and the following couple of days have left me in my bathrobe restoring my electrolytes. In an hour I have to cart myself to campus and talk about my vagina. Its safe to say that this week is the worst one of 2005, and its tuesday.

That being said, or 'whined' to maintain honesty, I've been laughing a lot lately. Saw a great play, spending time with my favorite people. Found out the words 'I don't want to be your friend' can be the most romantic phrase I've ever heard when said by the right person.

'You know how I remember your birthday?'
'How?'
'Dale Earnhardt's number was three.'
'Hm. You know how I remember your birthday?'
'Nope, how?'
' IT'S YOUR FUCKING BIRTHDAY!'
'Right'
...
'May he rest in peace.'

The problem with living the majority of my life inside my own head, acting out dialogues that never took place and envisioning meetings that are likewise fictitious is that the time between someone declaring their intentions to do something and that something actually happening feel like an eternity to me.

By the time we would have actually ran into each other I would have already played it out a million times, on the bus, during an MRI, at the dentists office, whenever my mind switches to screensaver. So when the encounter never really happens I'm left with a series of semi-fulfilled realities. I end up feeling as though I've been stood up a million times over. It is irrational and strange, and decidedly unfair. I can handle irrational and strange. I'm sorry for the unfair.

I heard Bill Cosby say 'scrotum' on Friday. Betcha can't beat that.

For whatever reasons, the phrase 'ethnic seasoning chart' is the most pleasant series of words to say outloud. Though I can't help but feel an inherent racism in it, which I associate with the word 'ethnic' in all of its uses.

So apparently you can order books ONLINE? For cheap? Why haven't I been involved in this for years now? Probably because my nouveau hippie education plagues me with guilt for supporting mega-corporations. But if someone's gonna save me 120$ for this semesters readings, I don't care who's Ma and Pa you sodomized. I'm game. And because I like rewarding myself for being a dick, I bought Bill Withers Greatest Hits and in ten songs he convinced me that its the best cd I've bought in recent memory.*


*competing with a french canadian artist and Alanis Morisette's last misguided attempt at music and

I just got out of the shower and had to sit down. Then I realized that the shower had marked the most consecutive time I've been on my feet in two and a half days.

I'm going to work in two hours.

This may end badly.

If I don't return avenge my death.

Well, I was going to post and complain about how I was stricken with the flu yesterday and consequently missed the entire New Years party that I so meticulously organized, the very party that for the first time would combine friends from three different spheres of my life and would inevitably result in the falling in love of several cross-sphere couples and maybe, just maybe a decent-to-superhot kiss with a certain person whom I've been illicitly crushing on for a while...

Then I read Sara's post about an ambulance ride on Christmas day. Dang. Upstaged.

Regardless, I too did some passing out, in what seems spookily the exact same place of my house, except instead of falling through the glass doors I fell through the closet doors which didn't break, and instead gave me a huge lump and a fantastically sore neck. My fancy-pants pants and hilariously un-Desiree like shirt are still all laid out on my chair where I left them several nights ago. What can i say, I'm a wallower. I wallow.

Today I'm much better, then again any day where you can stand up without 5 minutes of prep time and you're not genuinely concerned with your ability to control your gag reflex is a good day.

Christmas came and went, and compared to last year when I spent the majority of the day in my tiny room moping and waiting for my brother, it ranked pretty high. Loads of family, my mother maintaining the tradition of her not knowing me as a person at all expressed via presents (a bouret? She gets props for the Spongebob underroos though) and food like whoa.

The highschool ex has left the city again, and right on time as well, as any more intense talks about our pasts, both separate and as a unit would have resulted in some kind of furrowed-brow and serious 'I'm listening' frown-strain. How come no one listens to some people? How can someone make it into their twenties without really being heard? And how come once I accidentally unlock 22 years of ignored emotion I can't FOR THE LIFE OF ME get them to shake it long enough to go snowshoeing?

I found out that a mutual acquaintance of ours had been working to keep us apart for three years. Keep in mind this wasn't some HUGE ploy that you'd see in movies, but merely the repeated 'forgetting' of relaying messages between us that resulted in both he and I thinking that the other had no interest in maintaining a friendship. Neither him, nor I had any idea we both wanted to keep in touch...Which is strange, but also oddly flattering because I'd always kept contact with this acquaintance, so the obvious interpretation was he wanted to keep my attentions to himself. Or atleast this is what my 6th grade gossip filter has interpreted it as. Because I'm a pretty girl and people like me. In my bouret.

the reports keep flooding in, I've infected at least two people. This is almost as awesome as the time that I gave the chicken pox to my brother who then gave them to a busload of band kids. Yeah communicable diseases! It's like watching math work right before your eyes!