tales & tea cups

Cramps make packing a total bitch.
PMSing, in general, makes me a bitch.

I'm trying not to take it out on anybody.
I wish I was moving TOMORROW instead of NEXT Monday. Changes are easier to adjust to when they're quick.
i.e. the "band-aid metaphor"

You know what sounds better than breaking for homework?
A nap.




...this is going to be a long week.

Human beings are frustrating.


Excuse me while I ignore everyone for a while.

I've decided that I need to re-prioritize my life. (I like to go big)

Not so much make a list of "resolutions," so to speak, but a list of things I aspire to, and the order of their importance in my life. My mind--not to mention my stomach--should'nt feel so convoluted all the time.

Lists are comforting.

1. I have no idea who I am
2. I will never be loved
3. My life is stagnant and lonely
4. I don't know what to do

I have a new haircut and it makes me feel pretty.

Actually, my bangs were just layered a little bit and my hair was straightened. So little effort! So much reward!

Now I am off to see Breanna and make more flash cards. Wooooo!

So I'm supposed to be translating these sentences--some from latin to english, and others from english to latin. But they can't be serious about some of these. I mean, this sentence isn't even in english, as far as I'm concerned:

If your land is strong, nothing terrifies the sailors and you ought to praise your good fortune.

Um. No. That is taking the allotted vocabulary WAY beyond reasonable limits. I mean, really? Come on, guys. I suppose it almost makes sense if you force it, but the word choice is abhorrent. I had to choke back vomit, actually.


And my room is freezing cold. I thought we were supposed to ease into sweater weather. Should I be breaking out the flannel?


Ok. 9pm. Latin time.

I will not think about boys.
I will not think about boys.
I will not think about boys.

Hm. Too late.
I can't help it. There are no cute boys in this town. It's been a week. One exhausting, awful week. And I'm already feeling neglected and sexually deprived. I have a disease or something. Hormones? Is that what they call it? It's a sickness.

I really like having someone to like.
I need to put my affection somewhere. Somewhere that smells nice. And feels nice. And treats me nice.
Nice nice nice.

I WILL NOT THINK ABOUT BOYS.


Damn it.

 

I just bought a very sizable box of PG Tips and two smaller boxes of St. Dalfour Ceylon. I now have...130 tea bags worth of goodness. Not including the downstairs arsenal, of course, but I needed easy tea for 6 in the morning when I'm running out the door to class. And no more of that Stash nonsense at work, either. Poo poo.

Latin is a lot of fun. Like any dead language no one in the room has studied, everyone is positively terrified (terrere--to terrify) to volunteer information. I find this comforting. There are a lot of smart people and one very sweet professor all squished into a classroom where you don't feel too bad sounding like an idiot. Much better than spanish. And it's remarkably fun to say manly Roman sayings in Latin. For example: Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered) is pronounced "wen-ee, wee-dee, wee-kee." Yes, please say it out loud. Amabo te*. It feels so good! Like you are a very strong, sun-bronzed man with a speech impediment. 
    I have to make flash cards.

I'm so glad that the weekend is finally here. I have some time to write and read and study! I don't really have plans this weekend, either, so I forsee a lot of pajamas, tea, and books. Oooh, and maybe, if it asks real polite-like, my typewriter will get some action. It seems like typewriter weather. Quill weather. Ballpoint pen weather. Writing weather, in general. Oh man, so much to do! And I have a stack of comics to split between this weekend and next, to boot. Mmmmm, comics.

So what to do first?





*Please (literally, I will love you...so, it's like bribery. the Romans were kind of into commanding and sneakery)

I've been keeping busy with school and such.
And coping remarkably well.
I get down sometimes, but generally I just remember that we had a lot of really good times together and it gives me a feeling rather like nostalgia.
I'm taking it much better than I did the last time.


It feels strange, though, to actually be single. I have this overwhelming urge to make myself pretty, but I don't have any reason to. Portland isn't a very get-pretty city. And there is a mad guy-shortage here. It's not a big deal, though. I'm not really actively looking. Saving myself for a nice Irish boy at this point. Seems like the best thing to do.

I need to write something for class tomorrow and then work on memorizing my verbs.

amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant

Puppeteer me

into positions

and gladly, I’ll bend

over backwards

or frontwards

with no words

to the contrary.

 

In fact,

I do believe

the more you pull my strings

the more

I’ll smile.

     So carve those dimples into my cheeks,

      won’t you?

 

       Baby,

pull them tighter.

      Dear,

just don’t let go.

Sitting on the balcony and smoking a clove, I had a profound realization:

 

I am easy to please, but difficult to satisfy.

 

Hm.

 

I am having one of my “moments.” The kind where I want to lay on the floor and think about why, in God’s name, I have to go to school and have a job (both exhausting uses of time and energy) when all I fucking want to do is write.

So, I'm chilling at PDX Int'l Airport.
I guess Chris is flying to Vegas this morning, too. I think I'm going to venture over to his gate in a few to say hi, seeing as how our fights are basically at the same time and we're headed to the same place (Vegas is Chris' final destination, and my 3-hour layover site).

I already had to turn on my charm this morning. I asked for a cup of hot water at some random cafe and the place wanted to charge me 50 cents for the cup. I didn't have any change, and I told the guy working the counter so, apologized profusely, and asked if he wanted to charge my card 50 cents. He said "you know, we'll figure it out" and took the change from the tip jar. I left them a tip of all the change I had (which was 2 nickles and a few pennies) and said thanked him sincerely. It was so nice! I needed my tea! I had no change! I should probably scout out an ATM in case I have to take a cab or something. I really hope the shuttles are still running when I get into Dulles. I wrote out instructions for catching buses, just in case, but I don't especially want to do that by myself at 11pm in a city I am very unfamiliar with. Mostly because I don't want to pay for 2 buses, only to get off the bus and have to walk a half a mile. I love walking, but I know I would walk the wrong way for a while, get completely confused, and end up calling Dylan in tears because I'd be stranded on the sidewalk somewhere at 12:45am.

I brought Season 3 of Boston Legal with me. And my mp3 player. And I have 2 graphic novels (both Alan Moore, actually: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and Watchmen). And my sketchbook. So I just have to figure out when I'm going to use what. It's more important than you'd think. I want to maximize my time wasting and minimize my boredom, but I want to keep up the appearance of being productive. Now, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to read the books on the way to Vegas. It's a fairly short trip, and I'll be awake. Then I can watch Boston Legal to waste time when I'm actually in Vegas. The flight from Vegas to DC will be tricky. It's like a 5-hour flight. I'll probably just try to listen to music and sleep that whole time. Maybe read more, if I don't finish both books on the first half of the trip. Yes. Good plan. I'm glad I could work this out.

I realize that this is really boring for everyone but me.
But, sadly for all of you who are bored, I'm all about the documentation! And writing things down helps me figure things out better than just thinking about them. I process externally.

This is an incredibly relaxed trip.
Even with the bits of uncertainty, I'm very laid back. I'm excited, but it feels natural. The traveling, the destination, the person I'm going to see.

Yes.
It feels right.

Appropriately enough for being the Autumnal Equinox, it smells like fall today! It rained all night, and the little trees around my neighborhood dumped buckets of little red leaves! It smelled clean and leafy and just hinted at sunshine around the edges. Wet dirt and squished leaves! Puddles! Light breezes! Rainy afternoons! Reading books and drinking tea with the lamp on!

Autumn in Portland treats me right.

I watched 2 movies today and got zero phone calls. Not surprised. Not disappointed.
There Will Be Blood was very good. Daniel Day Lewis is a god among men.
Then I watched Boondock Saints again. One of the brothers has the worst accent ever (and that's when he decides to use it), and yet, 'tis still a film near and dear to my heart.

I need to work on my story.
Which I say every day.
But my resolve has been a bit better lately. Well, when I'm serious about it.

I feel that my love is like an ocean. Sometimes it's all tidal waves, sometimes it's a tempest, and sometimes--like now--it's lapping softly at the shore. Constant and unassuming. Fairly content in its timidity, but always trying to get a little bit closer.

I'm sure if I think about it too much the waves will start to get a bit choppy and impatient, so instead I will distract myself. Movies, writing, reading some Murakami.

I do hope I hear from him, though.
I did yesterday.
And I sort of thought I would today.
But, again, I maintain a steady optimism without getting my hopes up. A sort of "possible, though not exactly probable" sort of thing.

However, one thing is for sure:
If I don't get this bloody story written, my life will have very little worth and I will find myself stuck in a cubicle for near-eternity. And seeing as how this scenario is completely disgusting, I had better get cracking, hadn't I?

Ugh.
Work tomorrow.
why are weekends so short?

I figured out my finances!

MJ and I can still totally get a place in December. I will have like zero money for entertainment, but so what? just enough for a cuppa tea every few days at a coffee shop where I can bum the wireless internet. My entertainment will be living on my oooooown! And with the badassest roommate ever! And I can have BOYS over!!! sweet goodness! Males!

And, if all goes well, I'll only have about $2000 in loans. But student loans are eaily deferred and look great for building credit. I'll have them paid off in less than a year. And then I can start saving for a house! Or grad school...ha. Spendy.

I'm feeling good today.
My outfit is fabu (I have dia de los muertos pirate earrings. so cool!).
I'm really productive at work.
I feel like all the things that had fallen apart are slowly being pieced back together.
*knock on wood, of course*

ok. back to the daily grind. I have to make some cheddah so I can pay for a sweet bachelorette pad.

I didn't win (they let me know today. I got to some sort of semi-final, but not to the end *sigh*).
But today was good enough to make up for it.

I went comic book shopping. :)


I need to keep holding on to my faith, trust, and pixie dust.




A sea god and a sprite.
It's fucking proverbial.

In six days, I will get an email telling me that I didn't win 1st, 2nd, or 3rd in that writing competition I submitted work to.

Or, that's what I'm telling myself. I hate getting my hopes up about people judging my work. It's all so subjective and dependent on a bajillon factors (like the judge's mood that day). And I made some changes to it before I submitted to it, and then realized AFTER sending it that I had a comma floating one space away from a word. I almost had a panic attack. I really hope they forgive that and recognize that people make mistakes. My spelling was all right, though! and my sentences were golden!

But were they golden enough to earn me $3000?

Oh well. If not, I just fix it up some more and submit it somewhere else.
And I should work on another short story, too.
more more more
write write write

If I win, I will...
Well, I'll probably cry and then put it into savings.

I will name the CD "nest egg" and it will be my safety net. Maybe it will be the start of my saving towards a down-payment on a house. My own house.

Can I really live off of writing?



I need to get my shit together and write some more. !!!



!!!

PS
My coat collection kicks so much ass.
I was made for oregon autumns.

I have introduced my mother to the world of blogging. In preparation for her "journey" (that big trip to Spain that I'm a bit jealous I have to miss out on, and a bit tired of listening about..."I just got a new towel!"--ok, that's lovely mom) I have given her a place to talk about everything her camino-centric brain desires. It's been a pretty funny experience. I can tell that she rapidly moved from unsure to addict.

for those of you who want to keep up on my mom's epic travels (yes, it's headlined "Kerry's Epic Adventure"), the blogsite is http://caminokerry.blogspot.com. I really am quite proud of her.

And the photos on her first post were taken by yours-truly. ;)

Ok, 2 things:
1. I talked to myself in a hot tub under the stars while I smoked a clove. End result: I feel better.
2. I spent 45 minutes listening to "Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!" on NPRs website. Result: I feel better.

I'll probably start feeling poopy again in a few hours (my dreams have been downright awful--vividly so--lately), but it's nice to feel good for a little while. I guess this vacation was worth it.

It's almost transcendental.

I threw away all of my boring, ugly underwear.
Because I like my underwear to be adorable and comfortable.
It was nice to purge stuff, too.

I have butterflies in my stomach.
He'll be here in half an hour. Or less. I have to convince him to give friendship another go. We're capable, I'm sure. I'm tired of losing best friends.

Really intense butterflies.

I don't want this to be goodbye.