I need female companionship.

Let's get right the to the point. I've been floundering the past week or so due to what had felt like a million different things crashing down around me. I have since come to the conclusion that these things were not that terrible, and I should probably chill the frick out.

Yesterday, boyfriend and I had an awful conversation that really threw me for a loop. That's exactly how I described it to him this morning on my break from work in the conversation that was meant to resolve all issues and bring me some kind of reassurance. This morning's conversation kind of did that, and kind of didn't.

During said conversation, I brought up the fact that everyone I spend time with on a regular basis are dudes. This would not normally be a problem, because I tend to get along with boys better than I do with girls. The people I see most often are as follows: Boyfriend (who, thank heavens, is a dude), my roommates (all dudes), and my bff Bob (you guessed it; he's a dude). I'm not saying that these guys of mine don't necessarily have their softer sides, but, frankly, I have nowhere for this estrogen to go. It's been pent up inside of me for quite some time now, and I always feel as if I'm going to cry because of it.

I miss Ashley. I miss Amy. I miss Diana. I miss Shannon, who lives in my apartment complex! I miss my Bffl. I can't even begin to describe to the blogosphere how much I miss, miss, miss my Bffl. Almost enough to forgo buying a car so that I could afford a plane ticket to South Korea. I never realized how important it is to have a community of solid women around until I didn't have them around. And this really is the ultimate reason that boyfriend and I had that awful conversation. He even said that we would not have had that conversation if my Bffl were still here.

Right now, I just want to curl up into a ball and cry for a really long time. And maybe that's what I need to do. I need some kind of catharsis, and writing just isn't cutting it. I need some girl power. Damnit.

I'm melting.

At least, it certainly feels like I'm melting. Why on earth is it like 90 fricking degrees in my house? Really, this is entirely unnecessary. We should be getting into fall. We should be getting there soon. Damn you global warming. Damn you Al Gore, and your inconvenient truths. I am a very sweaty girl, and that sucks. Girls aren't supposed to sweat.

I am writing today solely for the purpose of keeping my mind off a million other things. Like my trust issues, to which all of today's problems generally boil down.

In honor of Davie K, I think I may outline some things for me to work on. The only thing I can think of right now is to stop sweating the small stuff, or spazzing out in general, if you will.

I think I just need to find that faith in human beings that has been eluding me for quite some time.

I'm very all over the place right now, and my writing is clearly reflecting that.

I'm going to go downstairs and watch the episodes of project runway that I've missed the past couple of weeks that I've been in the W-B on Wednesdays. I also have some ANTM to watch. My guilty pleasures will be my sanctuary, this evening. Yes, I think I like that.

Sometimes, I get lazy.

A more accurate title for this blog might be, "All the time, I get lazy."

I want to try and keep up with this blog as much as I possibly can, however, not much worth writing about has happened in the past few days, and I like to pretend that I really do have interesting things to write about. I more often than not hate just giving a run down of what I've been doing and then calling that an entry. ...Unless I've been doing something really, really awesome, like cliff-diving in Maui or putting Peeps in my pants. (Yellow ones only. No Bunnies.)

Anyway, to totally disregard everything that I just wrote in the previous paragraph, I went to see Sweeney Todd at the Music Box Theatre last night. It was pretty packed. I sent a text message to boyfriend that said, "I'm really pleased to see so many people supporting community theatre. However, this means that I have a crappy seat." This was true. The show was pretty good. I usually follow a general rule about not seeing community theatre shows on opening night, but time constraints forced me to break that. I can only see the show getting tighter and getting better. I think I still would have been a better Johanna. The girl who played her had a pleasing voice, and she was able to hit the notes, but she didn't create much of a character. The way she played her, the show could have done without and I feel like the 90 Johnny Depp fans in the audience probably would not have noticed. I guess except for Sweeney's motivation for revenge being gone...hm.

I must go get ready for work.

I want to live here.

I had an awesome opportunity to go to Rickett's Glen twice before the summer ended, once with my Michael, and then again with my roommate. I didn't bring my camera the first time, which is a shame, because it was a beautiful day that day as well. Roommate and I did a bit more exploring and found some of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I want to go back there every single day of my life.



Amazing.

Narcissism or keeping the rust off?

One of the worst things in the entire world happened the other day. This may or may not be borderline worse than my car (possibly?) biting the dust. So, clearly, this must be a horrible, horrible occurrence, right?

Wrong.

Boyfriend indirectly discovered the existence of my livejournal. I have managed to keep hidden the fact that I still hold onto my good ol' LJ as if it were a security blanket from many the past suitor. Silly me, and my big mouth. He read some of it, including certain things that I necessarily did not want him to read. When he finished reading one particular post in which my mood was listed as 'disappointed,' I asked him if he was mad at me for the things I wrote. His response both reassured me and raised more questions for me. "It's not like you wrote anything in here that you didn't already tell me."

He went on to say that he just didn't understand how anyone could put their lives out there on the internet like that. I responded with what I felt has always been my reasoning; I write in these blogs because I like to write. I like to get my thoughts out on paper (screen?) so that I can keep up with writing as a craft. I don't write papers anymore; I (should be) just grade them. When I eventually get back to teaching, I want to be able to continue to do as well as teach. This is the reason why, in this blog specifically, I try to be as gramatically correct and literate as possible. I want to present my thoughts to an audience in a dignified way.

But then I got to thinking about his comments. Is keeping up with my writing the only reason that I keep these blogs? Or is there a more narcissistic element to it? To be fair, whenever anyone writes, they have to be writing with an audience in mind. Would narcissism even be the correct term for it? Perhaps it's more dramatic or histrionic or a "look-at-me" kind of attitude that drives my desire to post my thoughts for the world to see. And at the same time, I do keep my audience in mind, because I can go back to LJ entries from almost five years ago and have no effing clue what I was talking about because I wrote about whatever was troubling me so cryptically. So, obviously, I don't want my audience to know everything there is to know about me.

It's an intriguing topic, one I would like to ruminate on for hours. However, I am at work, and I should get back to work. One thing I do know for certain: focusing on really writing this entry and making it thoughtful and perhaps thought-provoking did take my mind off the fact that my mother made me feel like an asshole to the point of tears earlier today. So, score one for blogging.

Shit or get off the pot.

So the past couple of days have sucked hardcore. For the past week or so, my car has been acting up a little. When I would get to around 50 or 55 miles an hour, my car would start to buck or hesitate. Yesterday, my car decided that it just really did not want to accelerate at all. I dropped my Bessie off at my mechanic, and talked to him a little bit about what was going on. The fact that the first words out of his mouth were "Fuuuuck," gave me the impression that this was not a good thing. Apparently, he thinks it could be the transmission, which would mean that I might as well just get a new car. I haven't heard anything as to whether or not it actually is the transmission, and this is what is continuing to freak me out.

One of my dad's friend sent us to the place that he recently bought his car, so I was checking out the website today, and there are actually a few options that I might be able to afford. Two Chevy Aveos, a Ford Focus...all in my price range. I'm thinking that this may be a sign that I'm supposed to make this rather big decision now. The best decisions I've made have been ones I've made on the fly, or ones that I've been forced to make. Even if it's not the transmission in my car, how long is my poor Bessie going to last after I fix her this time? I might not have this opportunity again for quite some time. Perhaps this is my time to shit or get off the proverbial pot?

Not everything has been bad. I have important people in my life who love me and care for me and support me and that is amazing. I got to have a conversation with my best friend last night, and something good happened to her after that. I am almost positive that today will be a better day.

Nonsense, my dear.

There are few things in life that are as amusing and simultaneously depressing to me as reading through my old blog entries. One of those things is reading through other people's old blog entries. ESPECIALLY when they contain significant details about people who are now extremely significant to me. I think that may be all I have to say about that.

Boyfriend is exceptional at being an adult. I am not. I do not make things like budgets or grocery lists, nor do I possess superior spreadsheet skills. However, I am pretty awesome at alliteration. I am apparently awesome at assonance also. Please let any fellow grammar nerds that may or may not be reading this blog be amused by that.

The entire point of the initial main idea to that paragraph was that I wish I could be more organized, more productive. I am not. I have managed to accomplish a few things on my to-do list, but not many. I am going to clean out my car this evening. I think what I need to do is just concentrate on the satisfactory feeling of crossing things off my list. I have to think of it as much more fun than simply making the list. I do like making lists as long as they are handwritten on white legal pads. (Sometimes yellow will do, but I prefer white. Does that make me a white legal pad supremacist?) So clearly the answer right now is to stop blogging, stop reading other people's blogs, stop giggling about the "I WIN!" aspect of reading other people's blogs, and go clean out my car.

I really had intended to use this two hour time period to watch several episodes of Scrubs. Sadly, this was not to be. DSH!