we're so happy you're so happy

today i feel: pretty shitty
today i'm hearing: coldplay on loop in my head
today i'm thinking: no more hanging around at jpalm's for a while

I am a most silly panda. I'm sore. And tired. And kind of nauseous. In all actuality, I feel kind of hungover. This is likely because I am. But I have learned a very, very valuable lesson: never play Drunken Dreidel with the same rules we used last night. Also, don't hang around at your brother's apartment when you have to get up in the morning for Girl Time with Mummy.

You never, ever stop learning. Huzzah.

It's been a pretty long week this week. I've spent most of it cleaning house for Aunt Patti and my crazy racist grandparents. Patti's house wasn't too bad. It just reaffirmed my belief that I'm allergic to cats (which will never be concentrated on in later life. Kitties are too awesome for that). My grandparents' house, on the other hand, was vaguely traumatising. They have completely fallen off the proverbial rocker and they're taking us down with the ship. It's not fun. Among the millions of mountainous piles, there are re-recordable video tapes, plastic tubs, girly magazines and empty pill bottles. And that's just in the basement. In fact, that is just a grain of sand of what is in the basement. Da's hoping that they die soon so we can clean out their house before they acquire even more shite. I'm inclined to agree at this point. Don't get me wrong: I love my grandparents. It's just their obsessive tendency to purchase busted garage sale 'goods' that I hate.

It makes sense. I promise.

Break has officially begun in my eyes. The U-High kiddies are out for the winter and I've all-ready gotten wishes to 'hang' from Jessie Swiech and AKraft. Both bring me a great amount of joy. Those kids crack me up. In addition, Bozarth is headed into Normal from Chicago as we speak. He should be arriving in an hour or two. Hopefully, he will do the right thing and call me so that I don't have to go break down his door. Alas, I will not get to party too hardy tonight as I need to sleep off the raucous behaviour of yesterday. I'm sure he'll understand. In any case, we have our yearly 'date' Sunday evening at the Normal Theatre and good times will be had by all, goddamnit. Oh, movie time. You are so dear to me. Hopefully Jimmy Stewart and my favourite Catholic school boy will be enough to keep me in good spirits through midnight mass.

Tomorrow night is posing me some problems at present. Tony, of the amazing Torso, is coming into BTown for a visit and I have been given the task of finding something 'fun' to do. The problem is that the area I reside in tends to shut down once all of the students leave for break. Ergo, I am having a great deal of difficulty finding anything to do, even disregarding the 'fun' requirement. This is depressing me greatly. I'm sure I'll come up with something spontaneous and slightly-awesome, I just don't know what yet. Hopefully whatever it is will prove entertaining enough to not mark me as lame for the rest of my days.

...Which it might.

I discovered today that I am the last of a dying breed. Clarky's found himself a hunk-o-man and has left me for good. And while the Tummy Impaler is still technically single, his mental state is not and he is in the depths of a Complicated. I hate Complicateds. They are stupid and irritating. So I now have no one to gang up with me in making fun of the love amoebas. I suppose that means I will just have to double my efforts. In all honesty, it's not the singledom that bothers me. I'm cool with being single most of the tiime. There's no guilt and that's really good. I hate guilt more than Complicateds, if you can believe that. You can see whoever you want whenever you want in whatever connotation you deem fit. Most of my irritation comes from the fact that the group of friends I have in Carbondale that I spend the majority of my free time with are, by and large, in long-distance gigs which means that they pine. And pining is no fun for anyone. And rolling your eyes starts to hurt after a while when you do it as much as I find myself doing it these days.

I am a hypocrite, I know. Me and my emo-tastic pining were super-bad this year. Paige, you may slap me all you wish, I fully understand. It just gets worse when you live with it constantly. No, Chelsea, that is not directed at you. Matt is part of the furniture at this point. I refer to him as 'Lampshade'.

I'm hungry! I'm actually hungry! Yay! I won't die from alcohol abuse! At least not today!!

Wow. Debauchery is fun.