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.