ohmygod

somebody please tell me whether it's true that jen (michelle williams) is having heath ledger's baby. i need to know this right. now.

sex in the city

we were watching sex in the city yesterday and he said charlotte is too old to have a baby. and i started worrying about whether i would ever have a baby, because i just can't see it happening too soon and i'm getting too old also (well, sort of). and he said i think you need to have a baby. and he said do you want to have a baby. and i just looked at him because how do you answer that really? when asked by the married man you've been living with for three months? and he said do you want to have a baby with me? and still i just looked at him. and he said don't answer that. but what answer did he not want to hear i wonder? and i said i would want it to be perfect and i don't think it ever will be. and he said you don't wait for perfect, you just find when it would be ok. and i said well, right now is neither perfect nor ok. and i don't even want a baby, where did this come from? why do i think like this now? i hate not knowing whether i want a baby. shouldn't i at least know that?

see, i think my mom fucked me up. i told her the other day that i was seeing someone. and she asked about a million questions and i answered them all as honestly as i could without totally freaking her out. and she made me feel really stupid for thinking that i've found something great. she always makes me feel like love isn't a possibility, like people are bad and you are stupid to trust them. and inside i think she might be right and that's what scares me. inside i think i might be stupid and she just validates me.

so i came home in a pissy mood. and said stuff like we should be taking it slow and what are we doing and why are we so stupid. and he got aggrivated i'm sure, and he said well, we are taking it slow, it's not like we're committed or something, it's not like i want to marry you. and then i got really upset, because even though i was saying all of that crap, i wasn't meaning it at all. not one bit. and i think maybe he doesn't mean it either. because the night before he was talking about contracts and having 90 days to break it if he decides to go somewhere and i said, are you leaving, i need to know if you're leaving! and he said i'm not going anywhere without you.

which is a whole other problem if it actually came down to it, i'm not sure what i would do. because i would hate to have someone that i was dependent on. and if i left i would have to quit my job, etc, and i would hate to be that vulnerable. but on the other hand it would be fun, adventure, something different. so i don't know what i would do. but the point is he said that and he looked like he meant it, he looked really happy about it in his eyes. so i think he might be committed. but who knows with guys. he says he loves me, and i believe him, but maybe he just needs somebody to get him through this. i don't know. i only care in principle, because whatever it is, it's getting me through this too. mutually beneficial, and i'll worry about the rest later.

and my mom really hurt my feelings because i was going on about how adorable he is and i wanted to show her a picture so she could see just how cute he was, because i really do think he is so handsome and i could look at him all night, especially with no shirt on, and this is what she said, i'm not lying, word for word (i hope my sister finds and reads this because i think she wouldn't be surprised, it's such a bitchy thing to say, but i was shocked, completely) all i see is a beard, glasses and a receding hairline. she's such a bitch... all i could think was how much that would hurt his feelings if he knew my mom said that. and he's so adorable too, did i say that already? or course for the rest of the day she wondered if she had hurt my feelings, and said things like, i just couldn't see well in that picture, but you know, it was just too late...

home sick

so, i've been home sick for the last two days. and when i say home i mean holed up in his apartment. i haven't even been out for a cigarette. yesterday i stayed in bed all day, or on the sofa really watching fifty episodes of gastineaux girls (i love reality tv marathons--only when i'm sick, i swear.) and eating ice cream sandwiches and chicken noodle soup. around 6 pm i got myself in the shower and did makeup and when he came home at 7 i was nice and pretty and going to work today. but when today came i couldn't get myself out of bed. usually when i'm sick it's sort of a combo emotional and physical illness and i think this might be the same. i just sort of feel like laying around and feeling sorry for myself. so today, i got only the sofa and a dawson's creek marathon was beginning (gasp!) but i pulled myself away to do the course work i have to do by tomorrow if i want to graduate in may. which i do. and here i am listening to mazzy star and writing blogs instead. what's wrong with me?

i think i'm sad because i have this oral presentation tomorrow which i hate, then friday the closing after my lawyers bailed on me, then to make it all so much worse tomorrow starts the 9 day countdown that i won't be able to sleep over. and i love to sleep over. i'll have to go back to my hot, empty, dead-roach infested apartment and sleep alone, ie no sex, and how could that be appealing at all? and i will have absolutely nothing to do, which seemed great for so long, but now that it's hear, now that the play and everything's over, is misreable. i'll be forced to either visit my parents or wallow. i'm not sure which i would rather. plus i have to pack all my stuff up again and bring it to the apartment. i'm so tired of living like that. plus, i'll have all that time to worry about whether adam's screwed me. yeah, life is fun, isn't it?

another blog

yeah, i need another blog like i need a hole in my head. see, the thing is, they are just so damn easy. no thinking, no waiting, just i need a new blog, oh, there it is. somthing for the instant gratification. but, i did need it...

somewhere to put all these random happenings so they stop taking up space in my head. somewhere i can write whatever i want and not worry about people reading it, finding my diary, whatever. i don't need a dot com. this is perfect. see, nothing terribly interesting happens to me, but i'd like to remember it anyway. and i have a horrible memory--ask my sister--so writing things down is the only way for me to possibly remember, much less make sense of everything.

right now, charlie remembers more about my life than i do. when he was trying to set me up with his friend, he had all these stories, actually made my life sound somewhat not boring, the stalker incident, the father-internet scandal, and i already can't remember the other things he was bringing up. not the best way to introduce yourself, but good god, i had forgotten all of that.

site down

so, i didn't pay my webhosting bill for the last few months and my site is down. but i think it might be better this way. see, i had been upset that a few people that actually know me in the real world had been following my blogs, namely a former co-worker, exboyfriend, and his mom. and i think i had been editing myself, writing only fluffy or watered down things. and i hate that. and why do i need a website anyway? so, this is better. if it weren't for all my pictures disappearing i wouldn't care at all.

nothingness

p class="main">I feel like freakin' She-Ra right now.

Reminds me of the old days of a full-courseload, two part-time jobs, being editor of the college newspaper, and nurturing an obsession with the new crush who turned into my husband.

After five or so years of only the daily grind and reality tv to focus on, I didn't think that energy would ever be possible again. And here it is: full-time job, five to seven nights a week interning at a community theater, one day a week devoted to quality time with my Godchild-who-needs-me, living for the first time on my own, and the other wonderful, but complicated and time-intensive thing-that-I'm-not-ready-to-mention-yet.

On five hours a night of sleep, and I'm still managing to put on makeup and smile pretty for the cameras. Which just that alone I couldn't manage at all the last few years.

Did I say also that in my spare time I'm reading Prozac Nation, Smack, Brave on the Rocks and The GRE Cram Course, (all at the same time, which I've never done before. I've always finished one before starting the next, what's wrong with me now? I guess nothing, except that I absolutely love the New Orleans Public Library! I've never actually "resided" inside of the big city limits, so therefore couldn't get a library card before without paying $50/year), researching grad schools, and trying to come up with a plan for my life.

Makes me wonder if what I need to cope is a too-full schedule. Purposeful stress and complication. No time to be left to my own devices. No time to wallow in myself, feeling unproductive. Because right now I feel really productive. I'm still tired all the time, but now I feel like I have a legitimate cause for always being tired, a reason, it's not just that something's inherently wrong with my body.

I can't describe what I felt before, why I was unable to focus on anything except the latest Allure magazine or I love the 90's on VH1, but I can tell you that this is better-- doing something, even though it's not earth-shattering by any means, especially relative to these over-accomplished geniuses I'm privileged to work around (MD, MPH, and PhD at 26? Come on!), is so much better than the nothing-ness of before.

high

We finished the last box of sugar today and work and realized there was no more in the storage room. Fine, except that I can't drink coffee wihout it and I can barely exist on five hours of sleep with coffee, much less without.

Solution: Borrow a take-out container full of blue, pink, and white packets from the coffee shop across the hall. So, I filled my 8 oz. Tinkerbell coffee cup with 1/3 creamer, topped it off with coffee and sprinkled two white packets on top. And when I tasted it, it was so bitter I had to add two more packets just to make it drinkable. So, after a quick calcultaion, the regrettable truth is that I consume between 8 and 12 packets of pure sugar in a regular day (and much more on those other days).

And this is just with my coffee people--I've just finished a bag of gummi bears and have moved on to the m&m's as I write this! Tell me, is this normal? I've noticed before that while other people drink coffee for the caffine, I do it for the sugar, that's nothing new. Whoever created hand-sized pour-top sugar boxes should be shot!

And why won't they move the snack machine to the third floor instead of right outside my office like I've been asking? I need a way to make them realize the severity of my situation.