dancingastronaut ♥

Dad's going back to Iraq early. His plans changed from 04/28 to 04/02, so I'm taking off Friday afternoon to get down to Houston. My step mother called, sounding flat. There's something she's not telling me. Last time he went, there wasn't much mention of it. In fact, nobody told me until two days after he'd flown the coop. They do that a lot, for some reason.

This time? She's offering to fly me down, wants "the whole family together" before he leaves. When I first found out he was up for another tour, I couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't coming home, as crazy as it sounds. This doesn't make me feel a whole lot better.

I'm sitting in a fog right now. Based on past experience, it won't let up until he is safe again.

All the good stuff is friends only. This is not updated anymore. See emohen.

The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 1830-1980 by Elaine Showalter

I'm on page 105 and I must say, it is so far fantastic. It is at once both enraging and thought provoking. I very much enjoy feminist literature with a purpose.

My typical shopping list:
eggs · hummus · water crackers · Hit cookies · yogurt · apple juice · lean pockets · cup o' soup · french bread · muenster cheese · cottage cheese · lactose-free milk · chocolate soy milk · apple cinnamon granola · plums · canned peaches · roasted chicken · fresh salsa
Total: about $35-40 for 2 weeks

This week's shopping list:
eggs · ramen noodles · yogurt · onion bagels · bouillion powder · peanut butter · white bread
Total: $12.08 for 2 weeks, and $4 of that was the peanut butter!

I figure I'll either gain 5lbs or lose 10. I can just see myself stocking up on triple creme brie and organic baguettes come August, to make up for all the lost time. I went to Albertsons. ALBERTSONS. The food snob in me is in the corner, weeping quietly and cutting itself.

So back the fuck off.

An ex and I are talking about sex

softlylighted: you'd still do it? I mean, considering everything? my, err... thing?
softlylighted: not to mention I'm still a whack job.
softlylighted: but guys dig nutty chicks, right?
xxxxxx: hmmm...well i don't know the effects it would have on me if i did
softlylighted: it will eat your soul.
xxxxx: honestly
softlylighted: for real. all of it.

I have $5.82 exactly to last me until August 1st, after all my bills are paid. Talk about just making it. I sent a dignified plea for money to my mother via e-mail. They're vacationing (again) so she shouldn't recieve it until today or tomorrow. I am waiting for the lecturing phone call about budgets and extravagant spending and why don't you call you sister more?

It is going to be a long fucking month.

I'm getting thinner. Much thinner. My boobs? Getting smaller.
Life is full of bittersweet victories.

So, I might be taking up salsa. I desperately need a hobby, anyway, and I do love dancing. Salsa seems more practical than belly dancing, and also more... I don't know, passionate. I inquired via e-mail about classes starting (eep) July 7th, though I'll most likely wait 'til August.

On one hand, I'd rather do private lessons and save myself the humiliation of learning with my peers. But then again, I know how badly I need to socialize. Maybe the private lessons will be outrageous and I'll be forced to mingle with beginners like myself. I think that would be good for me.

I think this will be good for me.

Date was a bust. I went in with a level head and good humor, but after awhile I just gave up as so not to encourage him. Diagonal from our table was another couple having an equally bad time. The girl and I kept exchanging bored, knowing glances as our respective men just kept talking and talking. I will not be seeing him again. I hate dating.

If pledging to NPR just for the fabulous swag is wrong, I don't want to be right. I haven't done it yet, but it's something I've seriously considered. Oh, the spirit of giving is rich within me.

Well, I have a date. I'm calling it a meet-and-greet, so as to take the pressure off of me. I hate dating, and I'm betting on this guy sucking. But, you know... boot straps, etc.

This weekend, Bart's coming down to visit! I'm hoping for days of fun and excitement for us all. It'll be a smash. Love everywhere. He's bringing down his new girlfriend. I've spent several days thinking about what we can do for fun with zero success. Harris isn't much help, either. We fail as friends.

Still... excited!

... but I'm keeping the key. Sweet.

My left pointer finger is still numb. A week ago, it was painful to brush against anything. Now, it's a delightfully strange sensation that's also a little unsettling. The dead skin just fell off, as did the scab. The exposed skin is pink and fresh, sitting right in the middle of a large lump of scar tissue that has already formed under the skin. Tapping my fingernail against my desktop, I can feel the pressure of hitting the wood only halfway down my fingernail...then it abruptly stops, and the remained of my finger tingles madly.

I wonder if it will be this way forever.

This month, last month... this whole year has gone by so quickly. So much has happened in such a sort amount of time. You know, I'll be 21 in exactly two months tomorrow? Time do fly.

Yesterday hit me kind of hard. Father's Day always does. I tried calling my father several times, but we kept missing each other and played a few hours of phone tag. If I may be overly poignant for a moment, that sums up the majority of our relationship. Almost, but not quite, connecting. I love my father very much, but I was almost relieved when he didn't pick up his cell phone.

All my life he's been my hero, and I guess I'm still a little intimidated and in awe. I'd rather watch from a distance and remember him as he was in my little girl memory than face the adult reality of what he is today. Not that he's an awful man, but he's not the martyr I imagined him in childhood. A part of me is scared to lose that solid, strong part of my life.

I guess that makes me weak, but I see so much of his influence and personality in my character. And that makes me happy, because there is such a large part of him that will always be with me.

( Okay Hilary, but you better fill this fucking thing out. )

Ladies and gentlemen, I have my laptop. Compaq Presario V2000 with a 3 year covers-it-all warrenty. It was the demo, so I got an extra 5% discount. I took Harris along to check it out and make sure I wasn't getting cheated. $740 after everything. Wifi, what an amazing invention!

After four years, I finally did it.
And as a bonus, I was cleaning out an old laptop carrier I bought a few years ago, and I found a digital camera that I lost over a year ago! 3.2 megapixel Polaroid. Hell yeah. :)

I bought this shirt on Friday.
<3 <3 <3

Can I just say, I am so excited about my eyebrows right now.

I was freaking the fuck out yesterday. I called Harris three times and Hilary and Gordy twice. In a row. Then I played two hours of Fable before the XBox crashed. That pissed me off, so I called H again and Hilary and Gordy two more times. Nobody would pick up. I was getting majorly aggressive for something so silly. I left work in a bad mood, and it only got worse as things failed to go my way.

So naturally, Harris was really out cheating on me and Hil and G were ignoring me because they didn't want me to come over after all. Naturally. Because that's the only logical explanation there is.

The note I left for H:
I guess you're not coming home. I hope you're having some fun. Me, not so much. My sky is falling. Maybe it's time to go into hiding for a while.

I think my overexposure to people lately has turned me into a demanding little drama queen.

How the Government Fucked Me, Part One:
I am living on my own. I am single, perky and young. However, I am not:

1. twenty-four years old
2. married
3. a parent

... And because of this, I will very likely be declined for Federal Financial Aid.

I was crying on the phone, begging the customer service guy to help me. As if he could. 'Their hands are tied.' "You could always apply for loans," he chirped cheerfully, oblivious to the crashing roar of my life ENDING AT THE AGE OF 20.

IF I HAD THE MONEY TO PAY BACK STUDENT LOANS I WOULDN'T NEED GOVERNMENT AID. I don't want more debt! I worked hard - three jobs, eating out of cans, working 80 hour weeks - for years to get myself into a good job that would permit me to educate myself. THAT'S WHERE YOU COME IN, GOVERNMENT! THAT'S WHERE YOU REWARD MY DEDICATION AND UNBREAKABLE SPIRIT! THAT WAS PART OF THE DEAL!

What the fuck am I going to do now?