last post was a ridiculously bad poem written under the influence of astonishingly bad whiskey...lest anyone stumbling onto this site read it and think it representative of my creative genius, I saw fit to dispose of it :)

so call this my first post, then. A has returned from Orlando with the rest of the journalistic crew. J will wing his way back from Chicago tomorrow afternoon, much to everyone's delight. B had a fab time at Tool. me, well...I'm still here.

although the weekend was an interesting one, what with riding in strange cars to strangers' parties and hauling people back here to sit til 5 in the a.m. smoking strawberry tobacco from a very ornate hookah. and all that squareball jazz. good times, indeed!

I'm beginning to realize why I sit up until all hours rather than going to bed like a normal human being. for a little while there, I got used to going to bed as half of a duo rather than solo. now I'm thinking too much again about sleeping alone. call it Sealy stagefright, heh. so instead I wait until I'm falling down exhausted to face the reality of hugging pillows. sure it's pathetic, but at least I can chuckle about it. and get used to it again, in time.

although I'm managing to keep a relatively positive frame of mind overall, things keep threatening to spin out of control. with GREs coming up, projects to work on, relationships to manage and EVERYONE'S life in constant flux, I'm starting to get a little crazed. it all boils down to having the rest of my life to worry about. that ain't cool. psych or journalism? what school? what city to build an entirely new life in? and what about everything in the meantime? the questions are starting to pile up faster than I can bullshit the answers. well, it all has to get done. otherwise I'm stuck in G'boro working retail and bemoaning the slackerdom that got me there. that's not what I've been working all this time for. I keep jokingly telling people that I "used to have such promise." I'm only half joking. I think the potential for greatness (or at least goodness) is still in there somewhere. just gotta dig for it.

an artistic observation: there is a cartoonish horn on a bike in front of my apartment. it's a pig. when it rains, it makes it look as though the pig is crying. poor pig. everyone covers up their bike seats to safeguard the old tookus, and it makes me wish the pig had a wee rain bonnet or something like that. alas.

enough kvetching. time to get to sleep before dawn hits the blinds.