I smell like bamboo.

The decision has been made.

I'm moving to the beltway.

Life is cruel.

There are people out there destroying the world, they get to live. Why can't one incredibly kind, talented, hilarious person be given that opportunity?

I'll be there tomorrow.

I found myself in the minority today. Defending the first amendment.

I cannot begin to articulate how disturbing the majority opinion was, and when I calm down about it I am going to write a more in depth post.

Until then, I feel compelled to mention that December 4th is not a month away as I had thought when I woke up this morning. It is, in fact, nearer. Happy Wednesday.

The last week has been pretty darn good.

So why am I such an f-ing raincloud?

This is Halloween.

I have a new faerie dress to wear to work on friday. Which means that I will be wearing it to class as well ... hmm. Considering getting new tights, also glittery purple-ish makeup to match the wings.

Today I carved a pumpkin named Sophie, and toasted the seeds in olive oil, salt and pepper. They are lovely. And Sophie is a vampire pumpkin.

I keep wanting to buy chocolate, but I'm trying to quit after a rather upsetting visit to the doctor (checking up on my leg). I fail at eating healthy foods. But other foods taste so nice.

but I've been reading some good books.

Went to hear Ivan Doig read from his new novel last night. It was beautiful. He does remind me of a very tiny beetle wearing very large glasses.

That being said, I don't think I'll be walking through Pioneer Square alone on a saturday night anymore. Unless I'm feeling aggressive, very agrgessive.

I've been banned from going to work for the day by the doctor in the ER. I thought I'd be perfectly alright if I just stuffed some ice packs into my boots and went anyway. I was wrong.

Listen to doctors, mostly they know what they're talking about.

die Schule. Ich liebe die Schule.

I would like to know when it became okay to place the meat from an ENTIRE PIGLET on a single sandwich. Today on my way home from school I picked up a sandwich from an undisclosed vendor and there was so much ham on it that I was sent into a food coma about 30 minutes after I finished consuming the thing. Is that even healthy?

I am hungover. I am in pain. 

Made an ass of myself, I'm sure.

Now I go to work. 

 In the past 48 hours, my boundaries have been imposed upon ... a lot. Causing my house guests to leave an entire day earlier than was planned. 

Oddly enough, I am thrilled that they are gone.

After being afraid I offended them with my need to sleep alone in my room last night, I came home to find they had left me a bottle of gin, box of cinnamon roll oatmeal, and had washed all their dishes. So I think things are going to be allright.

Now that I have successfully completed school I have acquired some new reading material. On deck for this month are: Little, Big by John Crowley, Desert Solitaire and The Fool's Progress by Edward Abbey, and if there is time I'd like to reread The Tender Bar by J.R. Moehringer.

Why does everything happen in this way? Why do you, the ideal one, have to show up here?
Please take your mohawk, comic books, and puppy away from here. Please go get a different job, but only if you'll meet me again on the other side.

Today I went on a first date. And it was awkward. 
I'm seriously considering a disclaimer for me anytime I meet someone saying something along the lines of, "If you can't walk for three and a half miles on flat ground without stopping on a sunny day, and do not know what an adjective is, then I am not interested in knowing you."
Maybe that's a bit snobbish, though. I could lower my walking distance to a mile and a half ... This disclaimer includes friends too. 

On another note, I am exausted by life and insomnia.

 I turn 20 on inauguration day next year, and am hoping to be able to celebrate with much fervor. 
There are three days of school left, Saxon is visiting on tuesday and wednesday on his way back from Alaska, and yesterday I interviewed for a job in upper Queen Anne I find out if I got it tomorrow so keep your toes crossed for me! Things are good, for now.
Oh wait, there's a faerie festival in Maryland today that my family is going to, I am sad that I am not there, but maybe someday in the future.

My mother is now refusing to aknowledge me as her daughter or speak to me at all. Does that mean I've been disowned?

I'm taking my bed back, bitch.

It's a little funny to think that this was caused by a pile of wet towels.

It's a pun!

If I were the type of woman that wanted to have a child. I would totally have Jon Stewart's baby. 

Registered for summer and fall yesterday. Japanese is out, sadly, I'm taking math instead. 

Another tidbit: I sent an email to my mom explaining my feelings toward her. Essentially, we broke up. It's my belated mother's day gift to her. 
*insert wicked laugh here*

  I'd like to apologize for being:
1) Angry
2) A type A control freak
3) A total bitch
4) and unusually quiet

Last weekend I submitted a question to Ask A Ninja and feel compelled to share.

"Do ninjas ever need to use bandaids?"

I feel compelled to mention that this question occured to me while I was taking a lot of cold medicine. Still, I hope they answer that one. It's pretty good if I do say so myself.

I am eating chicken noodle soup.
Because I am a masochist.
It's not bothering me too much though, my lips are all swollen and my throat itches a little, but it's not bad. 

 No dancing for me tonight, because I have a sore throat / ear ache. I know I'm not dying, but I think I'm going to take it easy today and tomorrow so this doesn't turn into a cold of death. Also, my dancing partner is actually sick. Boo.
Transferring schools is scaring the crap out of me, but I must do it. 
Started reading High Tide in Tucson about 30 minutes ago and feel compelled to share a passage because I liked it and this is my journal dammit.

"It's not such a wide gulf to cross, then, from survival to poetry. We hold fast to the old passions of endurance that buckle and creak beneath us, dovetailed, tight as a good wooden boat to carry us onward. And onward full tilt we go, pitched and wrecked and absurdly resolute, driven in spite of everything to make good on a new shore. To be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another - that is surely the basic instinct. Baser even than hate, the thing with teeth, which can be stilled with a tone of voice or stunned by beauty. If the whole world of the living has to turn on the single point of remaining alive, that pointed endurance is the poetry of hope. The thing with feathers."

I want to cook, but I don't want to carry the required groceries home from the grocery store. So I eat rice instead. And curse when my roommate makes yakisoba because it smells soooo good.

 Because I am a dork, I have been thinking about what my Daemon / Patronus would be ... A palemino is winning. 

Any thoughts?