I am pooossstttiiinnng.

wooaaah oh oh oh... for the longest time

I'm listening to Billy Joel... damn, I love this man. I love every song. I just turn it on and instantly feel better - and if not better, at least I have good music to hum to.

I feel like my life has been rather dull as of late. Ian's taking a weird break from school, and so am I. The friends I hang out with right now (sans Alisha and Emily) are mostly people who stopped at high school - maybe have some college - and work jobs that could be considered dead end. I really, really don't want that, but at this point I still feel like if I went back to school it would just be a waste of my money and time. I can't concentrate. I still have no idea what the hell I want to do.

My GPA the past few quarters has been severely lacking. I've always either done really well in a class, or mediocre. And the deciding factor is ALWAYS how challenging it is. If I find the class to be hard, I work hard, and usually get a B or higher (this has been the same for science classes lately - which is weird). If I don't find the class hard, or interesting, I just zone out and waste that education on daydreams and doodles. It's a really bad habit.

I have a few more quarters left at SFCC... Then probably Eastern. I'd love to go to Whitworth, but I have to be realistic. It's not going to happen. My GPA is too bad and I'm not the kind of person who would play the "My mom died and I kind of fucked up my life after that." excuse, no matter how true it is.

If this was anyone elses situation, I'd be completely understanding. But it's mine and I absolutely hate it. I need to get off my ass and do something. I just don't know how or what to do.

I am endlessly frustrated by this situation.

drunkity drunk drunk drunkst

I'm sick and now it is time to bitch about it.

First off, I hate headaches. I get them so often now that whenever I realize I have one (is it weird that it usually takes me awhile to realize I've acquired a new headache? It's usually a specific kind of noise that triggers it) I immediately am in a bad mood.

The past two days I've had a headache that makes me feel like death. It's heavy. Noise makes it worse... but it's really specific. Screeching noises don't bug me any more than they usually would. But a thud, like dropping a book, makes me want to cry. It splits my head open down the middle.

My ears, teeth, and temples hurt. Basically, my sinuses. I also have a sore throat - which also makes my ears hurt. So a headache plus sore throat that makes multiple parts of my body hurt with different ailments. It sucks. I dislike it.

Normally, the fact that I'm awake right now wouldn't be that big of a deal. I'm usually awake... and I've slept most of the day away anyway, so whatever. But I have to be at work at 7. Which means waking up at 6. Which means I'll be working on four hours of sleep with a six or seven hour break between my last rest.

So I'll basically be running off of a really intense nap.

This was a lot of complaining over nothing... I just really don't like being sick. It makes me grumpy and angry.

Also, the bars close in seven minutes. I except to be awake at least another hour listening to the drunks downtown stumbling about.

Oh well. Time for more Niquil.

PUPPY TIME:

I have a puppy. Her name is Toast. She is about 12 weeks old and is adorable.

The end.

but i know one thing: that i love you.

I'm laying next to Ian in bed (he's trying to sleep, I'm being obnoxious and blogging like that chick in the newest House episode) and having one of those "I love you so damn much" moments.

I dooo, I dooo, I doooooo.

I think this man completes me. I think there were cracks and broken pieces, ones that most people have (and maybe a few more than normal just because life really likes me), and he's just the right thing to fix them and fill me up. I don't think he'll ever realize it, either. He's completely 100% the one for me and I am so happy for every day that I am with him.

Even when we fight - which is really just me having a bad day and exploding on him and then getting mad that he doesn't get angry at me for it - it's all fine. I just stomp around and pout and then go and curl up with him and forget that I was bothered in the first place.

It's nice having someone who does that.

I can't wait for the next oh so many years of my life. :)

♥

New update on guest:

He invited another friend over... so I'm giving him an ultimatum: if you plan on staying with Ian and I, you will get food stamps. Or you will leave. If you get a job, then you are expected to move out. Until then, you will get food stamps or you are kicked out. We just expect maybe $100 of what you get. Probably less. Just buy your own damn food.

I am ready to kill right now.

I'm going to call you about this soon, Molls!

gaaaaah.

Life as of late:

Ian and I are working on getting ourselves a dog. I'm excited! Really! It's going to be awesome, we'll have this little Corgi pup (he insists on a puppy, I really don't care) that we're looking at... We shall name him Toast and he will be ours. Or she. It depends. Anyway, a puppy. Generally a time for good feelings all around...

But I'll admit to being a little hesitant to a dog at this point. I would really love a puppy - I've easily spent the past six months looking for one - but right now, my stress level is through the roof.

We have a friend of Ian's crashing with us. He's cool, I don't mind the guy at all, but the extra person in the apt is making it really hard to get anything clean. Things just keep getting moved around. Dishes, clothes, everything. I look around and want to clean this mess up, but there's no room, and there's never any time to clean it without him (Ian's friend) being here. And I don't necessarily think it's his job to clean up my apt. I should be doing that. But I'm really not in the mood to start cleaning (which I have before) only to take a break and then have everything wander back to how it originally was.

I want my fucking apartment clean. I'm a slob and in general a mess, but I am SO SICK OF HOW MESSY IT IS!

And here's the deal... if we're getting a puppy, I demand this place be fucking spotless. I'm not risking a dog that I make a $100 pet deposit on - plus the cost of the dog and food and everything else - choking on some random thing on the ground because the floor is too messy. I'm sorry. It's not working like that.

So tomorrow is most likely going to be a cleaning day. Maybe even tonight. I'm more of a night owl anyway, I like to clean when it's dark out. Not really sure why. Day is a time for rest. NIGHT IS A TIME FOR CLEANING.

This is a nice apartment. I think it would work best if it was just one person living here. It's not bad for two... but for three? FOR THREE FUCKING PEOPLE? There is not enough damn room.

I also think I might have finally found a place to put my comics, considering the book shelf is full and the closet is overflowing. I am quite excited for this.

But... gaaaahhh! Really! REALLY NOW! I can't have this third person in my apartment for much longer. It's been a month. The entire first month I have been in my new apartment with my boyfriend and IT HASN'T BEEN JUST THE TWO OF US LIVING HERE. Sure, Matt will go and visit his friends and stay there for a few days, but I use those days just to calm down and enjoy the alone time I don't get.

I need alone time with Ian.

I need alone time to just be with him. I'll be on my computer, he'll be on his, and together we'll just do our things for a couple hours.

I also need alone time to cuddle Ian.

I need alone time to make dinner with him.

... and to have sex with him.

In general, I just need some fucking time to actually settle in to my new apartment with my boyfriend and NOT have someone here who isn't paying rent. Or for anything. And while I don't dislike Matt, I can't keep lending him things of mine and Ian's. He's not entitled to my computer. Or to Ian's. He's not entitled to ANYTHING of ours. I don't mind sharing, I really don't, but it's beginning to drive me absolutely mad.

He won't even get food stamps. He's unemployed and currently without a place that's actually his own, and he REFUSES to get food stamps because he doesn't want to be "part of the system."

Excuse me, I WANT FOOD STAMPS. I'VE WANTED THEM FOR YEARS. I SHOULD BE ELIGIBLE. YOU ARE ELIGIBLE AND YOU REFUSE TO GET THEM. IT MAKES ME WANT TO HIT YOU IN THE FACE.

I think once I get all the boxes moved out, once I finally settle on a way to organize things, and one Matt is the FUCK out of my apartment, it will become home. Until then, we just have someone staying, and it isn't my home yet. Which frustrates me endlessly.

... I'm going to go kick something.

On comics.

I'm a nerd. I play Dungeons and Dragons, read comics, manga, and in general anything sci-fi/fantasy that I can get my hands on. I also play online games like World of Warcraft (or I did) and Aion (still do, when I have time). Sometimes, I'd much rather spend time online than outside socializing. And then the times I do feel like socializing, I generally want to play D&D or do something else expressive instead of dealing with the rest of the idiots around me. I understand that this rant seems completely out of the ball park... but you all fuck off. This is my blog and I shall rant about what I want.

Okay, okay, okay. Comics have this ridiculous stigma to them, for some reason the average person thinks that a comic cannot have a great story with characters that really speak to you. This doesn't make sense to me. We can look at a painting and find something that touches us deeply about it. The same is definitely true for a novel. Why, then, do we not view comics as a medium that can really help us define what it is to be alive?

My main example is Identity Crisis, a DC comic that has to deal with a bunch of super heroes like Batman and Superman and the death of all the people they love. The opening scene is of Sue Dibny, the wife of a superhero, getting murdered. Later on in the story you find out that she was once raped, and that her rape changed the way every character in the story has interacted with one another since. It becomes a story of lies and mistrust and what you do when the person you love most is hurt or dead. The twist at the end - when you find out who really was responsible for the murders of Sue, and two other minor characters who come to mean a lot to you throughout the comic - is just a sad, terrible moment. When Tim Drake's father is murdered, I really wanted to call my dad and tell him how much I love him. Because when you see Tim racing home to save his father, and the panels parallel the brutal life that all the characters who are about to lose something have lived, you realize that at some point these people stopped being characters on paper and actually managed to dig a place in your heart with issues that matter most. Tim is racing up the stairs, hoping to find his father alive, and as a reader you feel the same panic he must be feeling - is his dad dead? Will he get there in time? If his dad is really dead - if my dad was really dead? - how could the world possibly go on?

How could this act of violence not be the one that changes everything, and how could this boys pain and suffering just be made commonplace by the fact that it has happened to someone else before?

I bawled my eyes out when I read the scene where Tim's dad died. At the end, when Ralph talks to Sue even though she is dead, I was teary eyed again. The conversations he held with his wife were similar to the ones I imagined sharing with my mother. Mundane, every day things, stuff of no importance that you wish you were able to share but will never be able to. It just hurts.

And this is a comic book, a story form that's generally assumed to be full of POW!'s and BANG!'s, making someone cry and reevaluate what really matters in their life because characters who do not actually exist are experiencing such intense pain.

I was going to rant more, but really... I'm not in the mood to rant to no one about something that I feel really passionate about. Even if it is comics. So there. Stop being judgemental pricks about comics and let me show you comics that will actually tell a great story, one that tugs at your heart and makes you feel just as much (hell, more) as your shitty reality television.

Boo.

eyeliner is making my eyes bleed.

A few quick things:

I need to get back to school. I feel like my brain is rotting and oozing out of my head.

I need to start reading again. I'm not in school! I actually have time! I should be reading now, to make up for all the time I won't have to read once I get back in to the educational flow of things and have millions of pages of homework.

My eyes really hurt.

Life is hopelessly mundane right now, and while a mundane life is generally nothing to complain about, I am complaining. I would really appreciate it if a few things stopped being so mundane and started livening the fuck up.

So... for now... I'm going to pull a random book off of my book shelf and start reading. Maybe I'll even write something. I haven't done that in awhile. A poorly written story is still a story...

IT IS TOO EARLY.

I really should be asleep.

vindication

REMEMBER -------->
THIS -------->
FREAKING -------->
SUNFLOWER -------->


Things that make me happy, even though I know I'll go to hell for them:

1. The fact that Ian's douchebag of a soon-to-be-ex-roommate can no longer smoke marijuana (which he used to smoke in excess) because he has "flashbacks" to the bad trip he had on mushrooms. You know, the bad trip that ended in Ian and I being forced to call the cops because someone jumped through and shattered a two paned window on the second floor of the house.

A. I also feel like some greater power is on my side, because he's recently turned to E as his drug of choice. A coke addict who can no longer smoke marijuana because of a bad trip on mushrooms is now turning to E. I feel that an overdose is imminent, and my soul has abandoned me so I no longer feel guilty that he might just kill himself.

2. People I dislike in high school/college/life getting fat and becoming terribly unhappy. Again, I'm going to hell for it, but some people just fucking deserve to be fat and ugly after how poorly they've treated everyone in their life.

3. Nigel is still a sad, pathetic mess and will always be. I am also with an amazing man. So, my ex is a fucker and my current man is fucking amazing. I might be jinxing myself, but life fucking rocks and that sorry sack of shit deserves his pathetic life is Moses Hole.

Things that make me happy that I probably won't go to hell for:

1. Sunflowers.

2. Rain.

3. Having Ian attempt to teach me how to cook.

4. Really interesting and quirky customers that come in to work and just make my night with how absurd they are.

5. Authors that talk about really serious, depressing life topics in such candid ways that you can't help but feel those terrible emotions all over again, but the second or third or fifteenth time through you really appreciate it because you finally fucking realize someone else understands.

6. Neil Gaiman (see #5).

7. Pasta.

8. Puppies.

9. Addicting flash games, such as Cafe World, Farmville, and most recently Plants VS Zombies.

10. Chocolate.

Also, Alisha Merkt makes me very happy. And good cups of tea make me happy. Orange juice is also a drink that makes me happy, on occasions. When I drink rum I feel happy. Marijuana sometimes makes me happy, but mostly it just makes me eat everything in the house and then feel fat and next morning. Interesting phone calls at early hours are alway entertaining if they don't interrupt my REM cycle.

Pregnant women make me happy. They also kind of creep me out.

People who have harder lives than do make me happy. Not because I am happy that they are sad, but because I know so many of them who still have a smile on their face and still push through. It makes me happy knowing people can overcome things.

Sunflowers don't make me as happy as I said they do.

I really just like sunflower that appears somewhere in this blog, but I don't know where due to weird HTML formatting.

Yes. So.

Happy.

I'm feeling it right now. The Happy.

Time to go look at puppies.

I'm not a nice guy, I just like the movie Tron.

I was going to write, but I've been distracted by the completely asinine show known as Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It's not the good sort of asinine, either. It's the annoying kind. The 'I want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon' kind.

So here we go, another post about how I will soon begin posting and sharing my feelers with the world. I had something to say at some point in the day... but for now... nothing.

Blargh.

First post! Rawrawrawr.

I've made many blog attempts in the past, but none of them have really stuck... at least not since my sophomore year of high school, when I finally got over the greater amount of my manic teenage depression and decided I didn't need to tell the world how badly I hated myself.

So! In celebration of the fact that I feel like writing about things, I am now creating a new blog so I can harass my friends and they can, in turn, harass me.

I think this sounds like a great idea.

I hope you do too.

If you don't, you can just go fuck yourself.