Note to Self:

Oh my fucking god, Pom. I'm so sick of your shit! Please stop with your horrible habits. I hate them. I hate you. Stop being a lazy fuck. It's ugly. It's not admirable or funny or any of that. It is really bummin' me out that you're such a lazy fuck and use that incessant laziness to make so many decisions in your life.

I waited until the day before my tuition is due to pay because I hate going to the business office on campus. Unfortunately my laziness on this was not resolved as I merely decided to make my damn payment over the phone. Thank god for online banking so I could transfer the massive amount of funds needed to cover said tuition payment.

And now, you fucking lazy ass. Stop finding fourteen thousand other things to do. I'm sitting in the computer lab at Rockhurst. (Hi, fellow computer lab cohorts!!) Oh wait, they all look semi-productive, as opposed to me...sitting by the window, shit spread everywhere all over the table dividing my time between taking sips from my water bottle and looking up anatomy images online and printing them out. I've been here since 3 pm and have a paper to write. So far I've written nothing. I just keep procrasinating, staring at my book, blogging about laziness, etc. This is how I've been living my life and it is one hard habit to break. I will have bills written out, in an addressed, stamped envelope and instead of mailing those fuckers I'll let them sit on top of the bookshelf, exactly two steps from the front door or I'll haul them around in my car and refuse to stop at the fucking post office. Oh my god! I am so ridiculous.

Last night after I got home from class I walked into the kitchen and it was spotless. Husband cleaned allllllll of it, put it all away, swept it all, wiped it all, etc. and I nearly wept. Truly, I just could've stood there and cried. I was so grateful, so irritated with my own laziness, embarassed by it even.

I am such a total work in progress. I really hope I can start correcting some of these innumerable undesirable qualities that I find in myself. Also, maybe I can try to not always seek out all that is undesirable in me 'cause surely there's something worthwhile lurking in there or I'd just be a rotted piece of shit. I wonder if I can start/finish this paper in one hour. I doubt it but I'm going to give it a "worthy struggle" (as my Reality prof would say).

Seeya! Wouldn't wanna be ya!

wild insanity.

I want to tell you about my weekend.

On Friday I kind of mulled around with my roommate after he got home from work. I worked during the day awhile too. (weird, huh) I wanna write about that too sometime. I met this amazing lady. Anyway, when he got home I was all wadded up on the couch behaving like an old woman. I had talked to S. about the potential for some Plans after having looked up the definition of such things earlier in the day. A couple hours later we made our way out for some mongolian barbeque and I ate so much food. I like to eat meat on a stick that is smeared with some peanut curry sauce. Also, I like Sa Cha sauce and lots of cilantro in my bowl. Mmmmmmm..... I've definitely noticed a shift in my appetite since this whole illness episode. For once in my life my stomach was empty and now I get full way fast. I guess it's not all stretched out from constantly being filled and re-filled. Go study Nutrition, idiot girl. duh.

So after eating more food than was comfortable or even close to necessary we came home, sat around the three of us on the couch and then two of us went to rent some movies, one of us went home and the two of us that live here watched Broken Flowers and then we slept. We slept.

I woke up and could feel the cat's weight against my side. I like how that feels. I do my best not to disturb him but at the tell tale shifting of me getting up he hops up and wanders off to stretch and eat or something. Today I did this all day.. __________ NOTHING. Nothing except for feel guilty for doing nothing. Oh and also make lemon poppyseed muffins. I took a nap by accident once again wadded up on the couch like some scrappy old fabric. After I woke up I played war bears and then I talked to my roommate and pretended I was going to do dishes but really this is what I did. I ran hot, soapy soapy water and took all the dirty dishes out of their cold, slimy water and put them into nice hot sudsy water and then I.. I walked away. I bet that is exactly what you expected from me. So after all that doing nothing I um.. took another nap. I didn't mean to but I woke up and the sun had gone down. I woke up feeling all and all like complete shit. We watched Fiddler on the Roof (on TV) for awhile and I talked to my mom for 27 minutes and she gave me the death speech again for the 78,232nd time. "You need to get over there every chance you get, ya'know?! He doesn't have long left!" I know, ma. I know. I know, internet, I know.

I talked to him on the phone for more than 27 minutes last night. He talked so soft...softer than ever maybe. He hurts so much. He lectured me some. I'll miss those, won't I? Sometimes I almost almost act like I'm more stupid than I am and say, "Dad, do you love your new daughter a lot more than me?" Oh yeah, all kinds of those ugly little jealous seeds have sprouted, vined up and wound all around my black heart of laziness. thump thump.

Now I ride on the strings of acoustic guitars and the low slung voices that roll.

I bought all necessary items to make rice krispie crisy treats to take to someone else's house. I can eat one and share.

Tonight we watched Grizzly Man and also I thought of that book I loved Into the Wild and then I downloaded the song from the movie and listened to it a lot. The Coyote one. Then I listened to Heartbeats being sung by Jose Gonzalez. I'm here with my favorite person. Lately when I write here I cry. I was telling my dad about that book and he said, can I read it too? So I realized my copy I loaned out and never got back and that's good, I hope they love that book so I bought a new copy for like $9.00 and I'm going to give it to my dad to read on Wednesday.

more..overflow..bleed out

I hate my A&P class now. I feel like I walk in, sit down, a pile of shit is dumped on my head and I leave. Our lab is spent like this big, lame study session. It's not even a real lab.

I studied a lot after class and went with this lady in my class to get lunch/study more. I got this salad the size of my ass and after like 3 bites I was totally grossed out by iceberg lettuce and shit mush tomatoes and fucking fakeass cheese shreds and the cold, slimy artichoke hearts and it was totally the focus of all this rage and hatred I have brewing. My whole fucking life needs a colon cleanse.

This afternoon I'm like, Hi..Have I been awake for 3 days? Can I please cough without peeing my pants or vomiting down the front of my shirt? Why am I so gross?

Idonotwanttogotoclass!!

So I read blogs about pierogies and drink haterade. I say, in 8 minutes I'm going to close this and study for class tonight. Eight minutes later I say, in 12 minutes I'm going to close this and study for class tonight. Soon I'll just shove those books in my bag and go to class for 3 hours. After that I'll come home and.. I'll....I'll.. probably read blogs about pierogies.

Will someone make me rice crispy treats?

I'm just a girl.

There are all these things that hafta get done and they're mine and I am too scared to look at all of them written down on paper because then there's a good chance I'll just panic or freak out and write some lengthy, melodramatic blog entry about it..

Oops. Too late.

I'm tired of coughing. It's this pleasant, body wracking, lung exploding cough that nearly makes me vomit every time. (See, I threw that "pleasant" part in rather sarcastically. See how I did that?)

I'm behind in all my classes, still feeling fairly gross, feeling like an inadequate friend, worn the hell out, fuzzy. I'm very fuzzy. I can't focus on anything. I lost my Nutrition book. I lost my planner. Nice. Real nice. I'm being the worst student ever. Tired of feeling poor.

So, fuck. Here's the thing. I'm feeling like shit about this whole nursing gig. I feel like I'm not "one of them." It seems like the more I talk to nurses, talk to nursing students, read nursing blogs, read books about nursing.. it sounds like SHIT. The main thing I notice is all the complaining ("She'll fit right in," you say.) and bitching and burnt to a crisp'ness of it all. They all seem tired of "condescending, asshole doctors" and shitty patients and shitty patients' families bitching at you and shitty co-workers. One of the WORST jobs I've ever had thus far in my life was one where I worked with a bunch of other WOMEN. Blah, blah, blah..it's not all like that, ok, sure. But why is it so easy for me to find how shitty nursing is and what the hell makes me think I want to do it? If I'm honest..is it something I really want to do? Am I going to hate it? Did it just seem appealing? Money. Uniform? "Help people." Why do I have such bad vibes? Can someone talk to me about it? I feel unguided. I don't know anything specialized fields of nursing or what have you. A bunch of verbal vomit here. That's what I'm good at. Why am I always so fucking confused? Here I am, back in school and again feeling lost with no direction. I can't get down to the bloody, raw nitty gritty here and say what I really contemplate some days. My head's spinning. I feel so constantly disappointed in myself. I'm always walking around in this gray cloud of guilt. Instead of dirt like that Charlie Brown kid, Pigpen? I've got guilt.

Didn't study enough. Don't eat healthy enough. House is dirty. Husband's probably bored with me/our life. Don't make ANY money for us. Never exercise. Not social. guilt. Ate some chocolate. Drank a soda. Wanted to sleep all fucking day. Wanna take a vacation from all this. Think I'm ungrateful. Perhaps I'm an unhappy idiot that needs to work out some issues before I can see far enough ahead. Always waiting for what comes next. Not following through. Writes on her blog feeling sorry for herself. Wants to travel or go see a band play or have friends invite her over for dinner. Never calls people back. Never calls people back. Doesn't see her dad nearly enough. Gets mad at him over stupid shit that cannot/will not be changed. Could write a list of negative things about herself for hours. Wants a dog. Can't sleep tonight. I was supposed to write this letter of intent like, 2 months ago and never did it. I was supposed to call all sorts of people back about working for them and I never called. I'm scared. I hate the way I am. I hate myself. I really hate myself. This is so ugly.

Happy Birthday.

(mark ryden)

Happy Birthday!

She's gorgeous.

Go remind her..

I forget there's that calendar in the kitchen on the east wall and it spends its days staring out the window.

So it would appear that I am on the mend.

Yesterday my mom stopped by to check on us. My dear, sweet mom.. She refused to come in so she stood in the front yard and talked to me through the screen door while I stood and wept. I felt so horrible and helpless and utterly defeated. I watched her drive away and wished I was lying on the couch at her house feeling her check my forehead for a fever and offer me 7-Up and Saltine crackers and insist on a cool washcloth for my forehead. I didn't check this box on my application to be an adult. We've been so sick and it was just us here to wallow in misery on the couch alone.

Today the nausea has finally subsided and I've thrown open the windows and pulled up the blinds. Sunlight and fresh air have come to visit. I took out the trash, got out the bleach, vacuumed the carpet, hung things outside to get all fresh.

We survived the flu virus of 2006. (and believe me..there were moments we were sure we wouldn't..)

!!!

Grey's Anatomy!!!!!

I know. Forgive me.

Recipe for a hot weekend with your loved one:

1 wife with the flu
1 husband with the flu

mix.

You turned me into somebody loved.

There are no guarantees in life. Not for the present, nor for the future.
All I know is that I'm here. Don't know for how long.
I love you live so intensely.

Hm..

Ironic?

My dear friend sent me a Valentine in the mail. It made my whole month. In it she included a little newspaper clipping about Pomegranate juice. Here's an excerpt:

"Tests on mice indicate it may inhibit prostate cancer..."

Personally, I find it a little ironic.

honesty.

Ok so I'm a total slacker piece of shit. Thank you, Dr. M for the spiel yesterday morning about our damn grades not being indicative of our net worth. I appreciate it and needed it but I might need to hear it again when I fail your bigass test later this morning. I have tried to study and failed miserably. Seriously, I am retaining nothing. I blame it on a) waiting this long to get into the chapters and b) being distracted by insane amounts of guilt. I've still got a little time so I'm going to do my best to lessen the suckage. It's 3:30 in the morning. I let myself lie down about 11:00 and was going to sleep for one hour. Poor, poor mate. I tortured him by snoozing my cell phone alarm for, err.. 3 hours. I can open my phone and flip it back shut to snooze it so after the first couple of times I hardly had to even wake up, just a smooth flick of the mostly asleep wrist. I'm sorry, Husband. That was awful. It's not even like guilty snooze button sleep is that good anyway. I never made apple cake because we don't have eggs and I was too lazy to walk somewhere or drive 2 minutes to get any. We don't have apples either so I was going to make carrot cake because we do have a big fat bag of organic carrots that was on sale. Oh yeah, studying. So I finally got my lazy, lazy, procrastinating ass out of bed at 2:50 and stumbled downstairs blindly to a hot, hot shower. Now I'm going to study for the next 3 or 4 hours. I'm embarassed at being a slacker at the onset of this semester. I'm better than this. For real. Do you like huge paragraphs that seem to have no end? I wish I had a study buddy. Then this wouldn't seem so ominous. Could I be more dramatic? In five years this won't matter. I'll laugh at my own stupidity. You, however.. can laugh now.

zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcba

Today it's as if I have every learning disability ever discovered and still undiscovered. I write for awhile and then I find myself staring. I fall asleep with my anatomy book jabbing into the side of my face. I wake up having completely succombed, giving in like your cheap & easy date and instead of pretending to resist I am now cuddling with the book and wake up every few minutes when the cat wiggles his ears because he can no longer tolerate the tickle of my breath.

I decide, just now, my lap full of books and paper (why do I think studying on the cozy couch is wise?), I should make apple cake. Good idea, stupid. So, whatever...the oven is preheating. Kiss my gluteus maximus and suck my coccyx.

It feels like I just can't force anymore information in. My brain has indigestion and will vomit out my ears if I keep shoving more in.

He'll kill me.

The scene: Last night, getting ready to take a bath: I go into the bathroom to run water and notice some granules from the scrub. I walk into the living room where my mate is..

OOohh!! Looks like someone got into the apricot scrub.. (a minor amount of giggling)

What? What're you talking about?
(pause)
How did you know??

I saw the little scrubby granules. Some were still in the bathtub.

(nothing)

You know that's facial scrub.

Well. That would explain a lot.

school. griping.

It's a good thing I'm not a mom (and not just because a kid could've died in my care). See, I get tired as hell and it seems like nothin' gets me down faster than total lack of sleep. I'll get through the day and classes ok but as the night wears on and I'm trying to study it almost pains me to think about how glorious sleep would be. I'll imagine how it feels to get ready for bed and be a little chilled before getting into all those covers. I'll imagine my husband there, solid and warm and worst of all.. sleeping! Tomorrow is my last test of this week (I think) so Friday will be a relief. I think yesterday I failed one test and rocked another. Damnit.

I hope you're having a good day.

Geez louise, school! Stop kickin' my ass already.

god. disclaimers galore. gross.

I created a MySpace account some time ago because a friend (come over!) from college suggested I do so. I asked.. "Should I put my real name?!" The idea of people finding me from the past made me feel a bit uneasy. Now I am being found by people both from college, high school, elementary school even. That's neat and also annoying. Sometimes.. I don't wanna be found. I wasn't hiding there but I was laying low and last night I wrote up this big disclaimer. I gave myself some fine print. I have perused some former classmates' spaces and have read their Christian blog entries about their disappointment in the way people have changed. Personally, I breathe a huge sigh of relief at the some of the ways in which I've changed and I love to see how other people have changed and are growing. So, I started thinking I'd just delete that thing and then I thought maybe I'd just be careful about what I wrote and then I thought, fuck that. It's liberating to just be myself. At the risk of being so cliche.. I don't want to censor myself. Anyway, that all felt a little high school.

Another disclaimer: If you stop by on occasion to see if my ol' man is dead yet.. that's kind of soap opera and shitty. That's partially my own fault for writing about it here. It just felt really weird to me to think that a few might just kind of be getting off on the drama. Err, is that the point of blogs? I don't even know.

And finally.. one of the scariest things that's ever happened to me....happened yesterday. I was babysitting a baby that I watch a few times a month. He has RSV and is on medicine and stuff but still wheezy and congested. He rarely cries but I laid him down to change his diaper and he got upset. He'd been super warm and majorly cuddly and not happy I'd put him down. He whimpered and whined through the change and then I went to throw his diaper away. He started crying much harder when I walked into the kitchen. I got back into the living room and scooped him up and held him against me. He was silent. I held him in front of me and his eyes were bugging out. He was choking and couldn't breathe. His face looked terrified and his mouth was just wide open. A thousand thoughts instantly pelted my brain. I very firmly started patting him on the back. Finally, the baby gurgled and coughed and began crying again. Oh my god. Oh my god! I was so, so scared! Wow. whew. He spent the rest of the evening with his face buried in my neck and his baby hands clutching me.

Picked Husband up late last night from the airport. I had checked online to see the status of his flight and it was running 15-20 minutes late so I thought in order to take advantage of the 30 minutes of free parking I'd go ahead and leave a little bit later. I think the flight got in a few minutes early instead 'cause I got there and everyone had already gotten off. I found husband at the water fountain. I pushed him. I was sad I didn't get to watch for him and see his face. He was sad/mad? he didn't see me when he got off. We waited for E V E R for the luggage to appear. They let us wait a long time then finally announced that they were short on help and it'd be coming shortly. We were a community waiting together.

Today I'm drowning in sneezes. I'm in a dead panic as I have several tests all this week...2 of those in my anatomy/physiology class. I'm scared. I have a study session for my reality and human existence class later this afternoon and know I'm not at all prepared. Test Monday, two on Tuesday, another Thursday. Damnit. I'm gonna burn myself a "feel great and study 'cause this is really important" CD and get to it. Time for me to stop being a slacker.

rollin'

3:18 pm

I'm exhausted. My exhaustion can't even look His exhaustion in the eye. Anything less than earth shattering is not enough but I can't shatter the earth. I can't shatter this tiny pebble. Pebbles. Shit. That's all I've got. I'm bruised today. You can see it on my skin but you can't feel it in my head. "It hurts to breathe." He used to call me Minihaha. She was an Indian Princess. I don't know how to spell it. Class in an hour, get it together. Wash yourself off. Dip into the well. My dad taught me to drive a stick shift. "I'm so scared, daughter.." He loves meat and potatoes. He bought me a yellow dirt bike when I was 8. "I don't know what's going to happen.." He taunted me with the gitty bug. "What'd you do to your hair?" He has big, rough hands. His eyes are bugging out, I think. They're glassy and watery. He can hardly walk. He taught me to drive a tractor. He bounced me on his knee. "I'm fucked up, girl.."

charm.

As I've mentioned.. I, as a desperate college student and general, all around schmuck, have an ad on craigslist. I do odd jobs and such and sometimes it works out smashingly. Other times....well, other times it's just plain HOT.


"Are you female? Need some tuition money? I might be able to help you."

Um, yes.. yes I am, though now I'm officially skeptical.

"Are you cute? Maybe we can work something out? Do you have a pic?"

I am cute and yes, maybe we can work something out. Also, I have a picture, multiple in fact. My husband wants in on this so should the picture include him as well?

what day is it? tuesday?

I've been trying to not inundate you with a bunch of blah blah about school which in turn leaves me with nothing else to talk about. I'm behind already. School is just increasingly overwhelming and I'm tired, having disputes with friends and I miss Husband. He's in the dirty south without me and my dirt. Sad for him, sadder for me. Boring? Yeah, I'm taking a nap while I write this. I checked my PO box for the second time today since I got it months ago. Thanks fer nothin'. Talk about feeling unloved. Opening that box after months and finding it completely empty was sad, sad. Damn.

nervous laughter.

no, silly! of course i'm not jealous.

i'm weeping.

and also last night i dreamt that my dad took me to get a tattoo. i'm not being cryptic here. it was simple. he asked that i get a tattoo of a star over my heart. he took me to get it done. he was in a hurry to make sure i got it finished.

I don't know.

Why do I have to be such a bumbling idiot when it comes to this relationship with my dad?

Ok so here's the thing. I think that maybe good daughters set aside all their awkward internal bullshit and just get busy loving and for some reason I hold myself and him at arm's length and further and sometimes I wish he'd be the one to break my arm's length. I get resentful because I feel like if there's to be any relationship whatsoever it will have to be all my doing and god fucking shit I need him to meet me just part way. So, whatever. I'm not eloquent and it's not even beautifully raw it's just shit. It's not like TV. It's not like Hallmark. It's not tidy. I'm not all sunshine and love and affection. I'm pissy and selfish and sad and zoned out at least half the time. I'm needy.

Thank god for school to keep a lot of my brain occupied but maybe that's bad because I'm allowing it to suck up any free space that might be spent reflecting and also maybe being by my dad. School and my dad's appearance make it easier to be in denial. He'll proclaim, "See? Look. I don't even look sick, do I? Do I look sick? I don't, do I!" And no, he doesn't. I'm going to make the call that I think this past week has perhaps been a turning point. Things are getting worse inside his body. The word I'm choosing is "ravaged." The word, I didn't choose the word. Don't tell me otherwise when I tell you that I am not a good daughter.

nouvelle vague

listening to nouvelle vague makes me feel sexy..
and also, like i could seriously kick your ass.

meaty.

i forgot who drew this. i'm sorry.

since nobody would help me learn how to do this! bastards! all o'you!

Nick Drake - Milk and Honey