smh. twelve eleven.

it's been a really crazy 36 hours.

first of all, after i posted that last post, i decided to take a bubble bath to calm down. i put the bose dock in the bathroom, and played american analog set, which i've been listening to quite a bit lately.

it felt strange to pull a bath without chalk being there, because the only bubble baths i've had in the last several years were the few we took.

so i think that started me on a path to being sad. i was so worked up and anxious and scared, getting in. but the warmth was precisely what i needed. i sat for a few minutes with my eyes closed, trying to make it all go away, including the lonely leftover feeling from the birthday.

then it became too much. with the thought, 'i want to go HOME. i want my mom', i started to cry. and i let loose. and then it was over. and i did not want to get out of the bath. it started to cool down, and i added hot water to prolong it. and sat and soaked and had another cry.

kit was coming by to hang out and talk, so i'd told her to let herself in when she got there. i got out of the bath, and got dressed. i felt better, calmer, but was still a little zonked from crying. and i sat down, contemplating a cigarette. and heard the front door open. i assumed it was kit, but heard her talking to someone.

i looked down at what i was wearing, thinking she brought her friend bobby with her. i opened my door, and saw her alone. i asked who she had with her, and MY MOM came up the stairs behind her.

i was in total shock.

i really couldn't believe my eyes. suddenly a couple things made sense, and there was this weepy head shaking thing i was doing, trying to grasp what was going on.

she had flown up for my surgery. and kit stayed for a bit, telling how they'd pulled off the surprise. and she left, and mom and i sat on the couch talking for a long time. and on the floor talking, and back on the couch talking.

she was the best distraction. i told both of them about the bath, and my intense homesickness right before they showed up. and i kept telling her that if had been alone, i probably would have been rocking back and forth on the couch all night, worrying and stressing.

so we talked about ever and divorce stuff. about everything except the surgery in the morning. she made me eat food, even though i wasn't hungry.

there were a few things that we laughed about. i was proud that i didn't tear open all the packages she had sent me, because i would have been so embarrassed. at the same time, she said she would have understood. after the week i had, she said she would have opened them all, too.

when kit was there, i logged into the mortgage account, and ever had finally paid november's mortgage on my birthday. happy birthday to me. even though he's still a couple weeks behind this month, it gave me some breathing room. instead of making that payment in two weeks, i now have a little more time.

he didn't pay the insurance, but i'm going to survive making that payment. it will be okay. it can be his 'fuck off' christmas present from little ole me.

so that was that night. mom fell asleep next to me on the couch, while i was watching an episode of buffy. it was 1130. i really had wanted to go to bed early, but i knew i would have failed at that anyway. so it was fine to be up talking to mom about everything that wasn't surgery related.

i took nyquil and drank as much water as i could stomach, because i wasn't allowed anything after midnight.

landlord has the heat cranked. thinking i was being kind, i texted him to tell him that it was super warm, and he could bump down the thermostat.

i knew that when i woke up (if somehow i was able to sleep) i would be totally dried out from the heat. he turned it down, but it was still roasting.

when i woke up, i realized i had slept through the night, which surprised me.

nerves like woah, but better because mom was there.

and i had a text from landlord, telling me not to smoke in the hall because he could smell smoke. he'd sent it at 1130 the night before. so i texted him back at 615 in the morning that i never smoke inside. and walked down the stairs as loudly as i could. hoping to wake him. what a dick.

so we went to the hospital.

got there on time. there was no referral so i had to deal with calling my doctor while i waited for the ultrasound.

get there, get undressed and into a robe. it's freezing. in the hospital, what else is new. go into the room once the tech showed up for work.

so she's doing the ultrasound, and my surgeon is looking at it, and neither of them see anything that doesn't belong. so she brings in another doctor to look and he can't see anything either.

so what the three of them determined is that there's nothing in my armpit that isn't fat or breast tissue. so there's no specific lump of anything else that can be removed.

how no one came to this conclusion after the first two ultrasounds and first three office visits, i will never understand.

i mean, what if he hadn't ordered the ultrasound before he cut into me? mid-surgery he might have poked around and seen it. or might not have.

so i'm laying there on the table, the tech and other doctor had left, all 'nothing more to see here' like.

and he said, 'it's the easiest thing for me to cut you open. the problem is that if there's no specific thing to take out, and i just start taking stuff out, i might not get everything that is bothering you. it might heal and that same lump might still be there. if you want me to do the surgery, i will. but at this point, you should be able to rest easy knowing that there's nothing in there that shouldn't be.'

then he asked me if i wanted him to talk to my mom and kit. and i said no. that i would tell them. so i walked in after getting dressed. and said, 'guess who's not getting surgery today?'

mom and kit said it was a birthday miracle, but i wasn't so sure. honestly, i was really pretty pissed off.

it was just so strange.

i was so ready for it. i mean, scared shitless, yes. afraid of the pain and being put under, yes. but i was ready to have that thing out of my body. i had decided several times over that it was worth the tradeoff.

and for him to basically tell me that he didn't want to risk anything for nothing? it just blew my mind.

i guess more than anything, i can't understand how it got to that point. i know that originally he didn't want to do the surgery, just because it was a tiny lump and because the area is so nerve/node laden.

but to have this thing around for so long. and to finally get everything lined up to do it. all the money and office visits. and then canceled.

worse still, that my mom came up and surprised me. just for the surgery.

if she hadn't been sitting there with me, and listening to me talk about it for weeks, i doubt she would have believed that it really got canceled as it was supposed to be starting.

it made me feel like a big faker. like a slacker, work-wise. so i did what i used to do when i was little. i played hookie. and hung out with my mom all day.

she had brought a couple movies, thinking that i'd be drugged and sleeping all day. and then i was fine and not drugged. able to drive. and awake.

with no plans. too cold to walk places. and she'd already done the touristy stuff on other visits.

first priority, since ever had paid the mortgage was the other half of the new tires on my car. so i dropped a couple hundred bucks on tires. because the flat was flat again, i had to take care of it right then.

went grocery shopping. having my mom here was embarrassing. first of all, there were empty beer cans from the few days before that, dirty dishes, etc. all over the apartment. second of all, i'd just gone to wilmington that day. so my fridge was empty of food, and full of beer. so there was nothing to eat in the house. i wasn't worried about it, because i was too nervous to eat. but when she got in, i had nothing to offer her. and felt like an alcoholic. even more than i usually do.

i'd been craving this pepper steak my grandma used to make. so i asked her how to make it, and made a ton of it. it was so amazing. it was pretty similar to how my grandma used to make it. and there was something about cooking for my mom, while she hung out with me in my kitchen that just fixed me. all the broken parts from the night before, that didn't seem like i could fix, when i was soaking in the bubble bath.

then we tried to shop. went to target, and marshalls. to a few other stores. all to buy absolutely nothing except a couple types of makeup. i had set out to buy a bag. and shoes. and jeans. and a better winter hat.

but i found nothing that i liked. not a single thing.

but we drove and shopped and talked. and that was awesome. she put in for indian buffet. and so she and i went there. and then to kit's for birthday cake.

and she had put in to go to favorite bar. and was even talking a lot about having kahlua and cream (i know, i know, but it used to be her drink).

and the thought of taking my mom to the bar, much less MY bar, and getting her a drink? it was all too much. but we did go. and it was packed, and we were shouting to be heard. and she only got coffee while kit and i had a beer. it was short lived. she just wanted to see what all the fuss was about i guess. and it came out in that conversation that it's been about 18 years since she'd had a drink. if she hadn't been so tired all day long, on the verge of falling asleep three different times, she probably would have had that drink. i still can't get over it.

to her, it probably looked like any bar. only tinier. nothing special.

but she got to meet sam. and hot bartender. so it was pretty interesting.

came home, went to bed, and got up for brunch before her flight out.

so that was the 36 hours of craziness. i still kindof can't believe it.

i just kept shaking my head. the whole time she was here. mostly because i couldn't believe that my surgery was canceled. it became almost habitual. every time i was silent, i was thinking about it, and the instinct was to shake my head. and she'd ask if i was thinking about it again.

it's just such a strange thing. i was horrified. yet, that morning, it was like i had a talk with myself. saying, 'self. today we are going to have a surgery. it's not a big deal. you're going to sleep and then wake up and then sleep again. you're going to feel gross and then fine and then probably be in a lot of pain. but for once and for all, this thing is going to be behind you.'

and then none of that even happened. yet, the anxiety leading up to the moment it was canceled was enough to make me want to sleep. mom and i were both ready for a nap by 11. well, that combined with the fact that we were all awake at 530 for it.

shaking my head.

and then when that shock finally wore off, and we went to dinner, i was still shaking my head, only then it was all about ever. i guess because i'm still afraid of seeing him when i go there. but i just kept thinking about how happy i was that he paid the mortgage.

i guess he collected rent and paid it with that. too bad we're still a month late. but it buys more time. time to save up more after i go home and spend money, and come back and pay bills. more time to get that court order. more time to file other petitions against him. just more time.

when you want something over with so badly, all you want is for the time you have to wait to pass, so you can move to the next phase. but with this, it's a strange dichotomy, because on one hand i want time to go by, so it can be over with. yet i need time to financially prepare, so i need it to pass slowly.

there's no winning with him.

but for those hours, i didn't much care about it. certainly not as much as i did when i thought i was going to have to cough up all that money for the mortgage before going home. or while i was there.

having my mom here was a very special treat. a little taste of home when i was so super homesick. i really think that the last time i was that homesick might have been when i was living in tahoe.

i would never have asked her to come up. and i could not have known how much i wanted her there, until i had her here with me. i probably would have realized it post surgery. and if it hadn't happened, then maybe i wouldn't have. but she was exactly what i needed. and i loved having her here. i got choked up this morning dropping her off. my mom is just so amazing. such an incredible lady. and the best mom ever. and it was so short lived, the visit. but it was so condensed and sweet.

i'm really grateful. and i'll try to complain less. because seriously? i have it pretty good.

party of two. december 9th.

so i am glad that i had mentally prepared myself to not expect anyone other than kit to show up for my birthday, because that is precisely what happened.

before i write about how bummed i've been all day today, i need to sing the praises of kit.

first of all, i took the air mattress to her before going to favorite bar. and when i got there, she had made this hugely amazing cake for me. wrote happy birthday tea on it. decked out with candles and all. it was amazing. the candles were trick candles, which she only realized when she started lighting them, and they started sparking everywhere.

she taped the part where she sang to me, and i had that look on my face. the 'oh, you...' look, followed by smiley headshaking 'you shouldn't have...', followed by trying not to cry.

it was really sweet and really cute. and i couldn't stomach the cake right then, because i hadn't eaten anything other than an apple fritter all day, and felt really yacky nervous.

so we cut a sliver, and had a couple bites each, and went to the bar.

and of course, i only knew the people working there.

i think that last night, once i got over the fact that it was just the two of us, the thing that bothered me the most was what my friends who work there must have thought. i can't think of anything more depressing than one person showing up to someone's birthday.


it's just strange. i have been thinking a lot lately of something that a couple people have told me since this summer. brownies and my high school best friend both have told me that there's no replacing me. that i'm different. and that they have met other people, but no one was like me.

and it really went to my head. made me feel like i am awesome, and when i'm not being an asshole, i'm a wonderful friend who really cares, and would do anything for my friends. that i'm super thoughtful and that it genuinely makes me feel good to do nice things for my friends, and make them feel good, too.

and then it's like the sound of 15 crashing pots and pans. like a camera zooming in on me at the bar with my best friend, and no one else could make it to the bar for even one drink on my birthday.

totally fucking sucked. more today than last night.

one beer in, i noticed that sam had written happy birthday tea on the menu board above the bar, which made my night. she even drew stars around it, which was all too fitting.

once i decided not to look at the door when it opened (about two beers in), i was having so much fun with kit and the bartenders, that it didn't matter as much anymore.

that was probably the point in the night when i let jeff talk me into a shot. and sam made a washington apple for me. it was so fucking good. nate loves them, and we'd had one out at a bar before, the drink version. but sam's shot was so tasty.

gave that a minute. i was still fine at that point. i should know by now that if i'm having more than one beer, shots don't get figured into the occasion. but it was my BIRTHDAY. so i was into it.

that was probably when kit and i had cigarette number two. and i was feeling a little numb. and i had a little water, we'd already eaten, but i couldn't stomach all that much. about half of my food, because i was nervous.

we went back inside and i said that i would have only a half pint more. and then be done. but kit was imperative about not leaving the bar before ten on my birthday. so she ordered another beer. and just like this summer, knowing i was exceeding my limit and letting peer pressure effect me at 33, i let them talk me into one last beer. i switched to pbr for its water-like qualities. only sam gave it to me in the boot. as in, das boot.

luckily, i knew that there was a trick to drinking from it that involved turning it on its side about 2/3rds of the way in.

still, i felt fine while i was there. finished the boot and came home. sat on the stoop to have a smoke, and everything hit me.

wicked spins, just awful. took my time standing up and turning around. got inside my apartment, and stripped down. into the bathroom. 'don't throw up. don't throw up.' got into bed. 'i'm gonna throw up'.

into the bathroom just in time. get it over with. stop spinning. please. stop spinning.

how did i let myself get here? i hate this. i can prevent this. why did i do this again?

you know. drunken toilet prayer thoughts.

whatever. then my buzzer rang. and my phone. and then knocking on my door.

i knew it was kit, and i knew she was coming to borrow the vacuum she'd forgotten, because she left the bar in a hurry when her friend arrived into town.

but i couldn't stand up and stop puking, so i couldn't let her in.

finally, i was able to.

she was in and back out after asking me if i was sick. was i okay? 'yes fine. go. i'm fine.'

which is what i do when i'm sick. if i see or hear someone else getting sick, i'll get sick. so when it's me who is sick, i have to be alone. i don't want anyone to see or hear or be there at all.

so she left, and i got sick again, and now i'm having a hard time remembering everything. i know that the second time i stripped down completely, grabbed a towel and wrapped myself in it on the tile floor because i was hot-cold and it felt best. i know i laid there for a while before i could go to bed. and when i went to bed, i had insane dreams, and kept waking up and trying to go back to sleep. i know i got up at 7 and took cold medicine. and i know i couldn't physically get out of bed and stay out until almost 10.

i was so fucking hungover. maybe the worst ever, but it just feels that way. having to work really sucked, even though it was a driving day. i almost cried so many times today. feeling sick and sorry for myself. it took two hours for me to drink a coffee. i had a splitting headache and can't take motrin because of surgery, so i couldn't do anything about it.

i really felt horrible, and honestly wanted a beer at 10 to make it go away, but didn't.

drove to work on a flat tire. intuition is a funny thing. i knew my tires were low. and i had told myself to fill them on my way in. but feeling so fucking awful made me not want to get out in the freezing cold (20s) and bend over to fill my tires. so i didn't. and when i got to work, saw that my tire was entirely flat. don't know how i didn't feel it when i was driving.

so i left there, luckily only a 5 minute drive from home and less than that to the air pump.

filled all my tires, and it was fine. drove to delaware.

listening to my mix and trying not to cry.

it was awful. i didn't want to go. but i was out of gas and smokes and beer, and knew that i needed a beer as soon as i was home to get the hangover to subside a little.

so i stopped and got all of that. and went in. and michele was asking me why i looked so upset. so i spilled about being hungover from last night, and how no one else showed up and all about ever problems and surgery.

debbie downer strikes again. and then got to work for a little while.

managed to stuff down a dry plain bagel i snagged from work, and the rest of my coffee from work, and left as soon as i could without feeling guilty. came home. had a pbr. felt okay enough to eat food leftover from last night. had half a beer more sometime after that, but stopped because i'm not supposed to drink tonight.

just had a smoke now, couldn't finish that one either.

ugh. so gross.

in any case... i need to try to clear my head.

not as in clear my mind.

as in, literally. try to mellow out.

i know that everything tomorrow will be fine. i know that it's not really a big deal. i know that it will be over with before i know it. and i know how glad i'll be when that lump is out of my armpit.

and in case it's not, and i'm not, then i will say a couple things. living will style:

nina, if anything happens to me, you are my paper journal guardian.

kit, you can tell ever about this blog. so he knows exactly what i think of him and his fucking bullshit. and so you can see the look on his face. kick him in the nuts, while you're at it. you can have anything i own that you want.

to my other real friends, i'm only sorry that i didn't get to have more time to be a better friend.

and to everyone else, random people i don't know, thanks for reading. it means a lot to me to see that you come back to see what trouble i'm in.

ever, i fucking hate you. you suck and you're an ass. i cannot believe that i married you. and if i could go back in time, i'd never meet you. enjoy the house and the money and my dog daughter. i hope you get what you deserve.

and because i can't end on that note, i know everything will be okay. i just had to get a little out of my system.

it doesn't help that i wrote a love note to kit for my fb status. and because i had blocked a few people (namely, coffee and his girl) so i wouldn't have to see them pop up all the time, i didn't see that coffee had a love letter to a band for his status. makes me want to unfriend him right this instant. just so no one thinks that i saw and stole.

unfriend them, along with intern. and a few other people.

maybe when i wake up and recover tomorrow, right after i eat a big plate of cake, i'll do that.

something about fearing death and making life changing decisions. not that unfriending people would change my life. but i think it would help me to not beat myself up and stalk people anymore. and beat myself about stalking people.

peace out, bloggers. catch ya on the flip. less one inch of lump.

meltdown. december 7th.

i don't even know what to write. another call home, another night of feeling like i'm headed for a big time snap. a meltdown.

mom sent my birthday package. i was thinking about it, walking around today. she always comes through, and always in time.

it was here when i got home.

instead of a birthday package, what she sent was simply incredible. birthday card on top. with money. but it was a huge package. with a christmas card.

it explained that, starting the day after tomorrow, there was a present for each day, until i go home. they're numbered. like an advent calendar, only for my trip home. she hopes it makes the time go by more quickly, and that it makes me happy every day until i am home.

i told her she topped herself, and probably will never be outdone.

she is seriously the most thoughtful person ever. the best mom ever. the package didn't make me cry, but i'm feeling kinda close to tears now that i'm writing about it.

each little thing is gift wrapped in christmasy stuff and dated and numbered on the tag. so i have twelve gifts lined up in front of my bookshelf. which means that i go home in thirteen days.

it's okay that i'm shaky over ever. last night was a big deal.

i'm going to have to actively try tomorrow to not be super mopey. i have been feeling like debbie downer for about two weeks now. since i got sick, since kit's fam came to town. since thanksgiving.

but tomorrow i'm going to have to assume the 'fake it til i make it' position.

i told kit. it's most important that i spend my birthday having a drink with her. but aside from that, i'm afraid to get my hopes up that any other person would show up. because i'm already so sad that i don't want one more thing to be sad about. especially not the ratio of people invited to people making an appearance.

i only have a few close friends. and now that this ever thing is worse for me, i guess that i feel like i have even fewer. even if that isn't exactly the case. in my head is where they're lacking. and i guess that i'm the only one who has changed.

in any case, work will be fun tomorrow. goofing off with the girls in some ridiculous hat they bought for me to wear all day long. it reminds me of middle school. my mom and friends would buy balloons. i always loved carrying them around. because people who wouldn't normally stop and say hi or ask me about my day would. it will be a little like that tomorrow. it's going to make the day more fun. and will be a great excuse to flirt with cute boys. even if it only lasts for a day. it will be nice to feel a little special.

letter from a lawyer, and to ever. dec 6th.

so. as previously mentioned, saturday night, i emailed my lawyer a list of six questions. today, i got the answers.

most of them, honestly, were better than i expected.

so below, i'm paraphrasing my email to the lawyer, and then his answers.

1. is the divorce contingent upon the marital settlement, or does the divorce get granted regardless of what happens when we go to court to settle the property matters?

if he won't sign the papers, then i have to wait for two years to get it without his signature. as a desperate measure, i can seek spousal support. i probably won't get it, but it might make him react faster and sign.

2. can you give me dates/timelines for each part of the process?

if he signed, it would take one to two months.

the expedited relief request will be in the mail in the next couple of days.

3. if i have to make the mortgage payment(s), am i able to move back into the home, or did i lose that ability because i left him and the house? and is there a way to have him removed from the house (like you would have someone evicted) for non-payment?

if i pay it, i can request exclusive property to the home and try to have him kicked out.

i can reenter anytime, because i still own the home. i can move back in if i want to.

if i were to threaten him, he can file this thing called a protection from abuse and he can have me blocked or removed from the home that way.

4. am i legally allowed to step inside the house at this point in time?

yes, but he recommends i warn him.

5. can i send a realtor in to see the house? basically, i have no idea what condition it is in, and what work will need to be done before it goes on the market, and if i could send her in to take pictures, i'd have a much better idea.

yep. again, with warning. i can do whatever i want.

6. is it a bad idea to contact him? we have until the 12th to pay the insurance before they cancel the policy. i closed the joint checking account yesterday, because he was using it and overdrawing it, but he isn't aware that i closed it. part of me wants to email and tell him these things, and ask if he is planning to pay the mortgage.

contact him via email for a paper trail. it might speed things along.

so this is what i'm sending to ever:

just wanted to let you know that the joint checking account is closed. you paid another bill from it, so i closed it on friday.

state farm is about to cancel the homeowners insurance policy because you haven't paid your portion of the bill.

your portion (the past due balance) is $210.16. if the payment is not made by the 12th, the house will not be insured by state farm any longer. at that point, gmac would have to cover it by default, and the rate will be 2-3 times what it is with state farm.

please use the log in you were using for the first six months and pay the bill in the next few days to keep that from happening.

gmac has been in touch with me because you are over 30 days delinquent on the mortgage. i don't know if you realize that, at 60 days delinquent, the bank forecloses on the house.

i'm not sure what is going on with you, but thought i would email you to let you know about the bank account, and the collections calls i've been receiving.

also, i asked jay to help me move the jazz & java stuff out of the basement, in case he mentions it to you. i'm going to try to get it out of there in the next couple weeks. if he can't help me, i'll be doing it myself. i'll do my best to give you a heads up before i show up as a courtesy, if that is what ends up happening.

so i should feel better. right? only i don't. i haven't sent it. but i wrote it. so i'm almost done with it.

because his reaction will probably take a few days, because that's what he likes to do. and then it could go one of a few ways. these are my best guesses:

mostly likely: absolutely nothing. no response. because he won't put things in writing.
or because he's not physically able (dead, braindead, etc. not very likely...)

also likely: a text back. yes i keep them.

which reminds me that i can get a pfa against him because he threatened that restraining order a while back.

next set of possibilities:

a. fuck you. (can be combined with other possibilities)

b. i'm not going to pay the bills. because you left me. (totally expect this)

c. everyone moved out and i have no money. (he'd never admit this to me)

d. i'm paying everything tomorrow. (a girl can dream, right?)

e. if you want them paid, then you pay them. (this is what i'm expecting to have to do in the next few days whether he says it or not)

so here i sit. with the same fucked up feeling of wanting to get shitfaced and forget about it.

i read this blog for most of the day at suck store today. it's called six spruce. the woman is brilliant and mouthy and says fuck a lot, which wins in my book.

after reading a post that was my favorite, the one immediately after it almost made me cry. so blunt. so moving.

i'm going to bed. i still am not well. i'm still not anywhere near well. i'm coughing like crazy and can't breathe.

and tonight? no nyquil. i hope i sleep.

acclimation. december 5th.

will i just get used to this?

i mean, today i was driving to lunch with lauren, and my heart was racing and my hands were shaking. i was a nervous wreck. for no reason at all.

i feel physically ill most of the time, and when it passes, i'm starving. i was alternating thinking about contacting ever and my surgery and i just couldn't calm myself down.

luckily, i didn't have the ativan on me, or i would have popped one. i didn't need it. i just needed to calm down.

and i hate that it took about a third of a beer at 3pm to feel normal, and able to eat.

all weekend, i just wanted to be drunk. i didn't achieve it. but i just had this feeling inside. because if i'm drinking, then i'm not upset. i just get angry, and that is an entirely different feeling than the nervous anxiety i feel before i drink.

how do people deal with this shit? how am i supposed to deal with ever calling all the shots out of my ear distance? when his method of calling is just to do nothing.

today, i worried about him not paying the homeowners policy that is now in his name. because now i have no way to know if it's handled. like my new fear developed today that he'll change the password on the mortgage account so i can't see it. i think he forgot that i have it, luckily.

it's too close to bedtime to think and write about this. it's 9 and i already took my nyquil because i'm up super early yet again, and i'm wide awake because i'm on my weekend up late schedule. luckily, i woke up before 9 both days this weekend and didn't go back to sleep.

in other news, chalk is now actively buttering me up for my trip home.

flirting heavily, telling me he'll take my mind off my problems if i just spend a couple hours with him.

at least i'll get laid when i get home.

that has to help, right?

i can't even say that i've been redlining. i've had no drive at all since he was here last. i still want to make out for days at a time, but it's different. that whole 'itch i can't scratch' feeling has completely abandoned my body.

at least i'll get a make out fix, too.

i want to make it my goal to make out with someone besides him before the new year, but i don't think it will happen. i don't have my sights set on anyone.

and lately, to make matters more complicated (simpler, actually), i've been wanting to unfriend both intern and coffee, because it's like some variation of a constant reminder of conquests gone badly to see things that they take time to mention. or other people's pictures they appear in.

most of the time, neither of them bother me. as far as thinking about them... but then, intern isn't joining for my birthday karaoke, and even though he would probably be the only guy there, which is probably why he said no, it's still a bummer.

and then coffee. well, let's just say that his new life with his love is a little much to see all the time. i hid her first, but he's been posting things that have just made it sink in. and completely ignoring the one comment i made.

so it just goes to show that neither of them are doing anything positive for me. so i hid coffee. and i'll see if i can muster the strength to delete them.

maybe it will be my birthday present to myself.

and in yet another completely unrelated newsline, nina was right about buffy. the first three seasons, meh. nothing really spectacular, save for two or three episodes that were pretty well done.

but season four is really funny, and the writing is improving, and i enjoyed all three episodes i watched tonight.

thanks, nina.

buffy has really helped me this last two weeks. that, and the middle. which has been a laugh fest.

i'm okay with distracting myself from all my real problems with fictional ones. i'm actually looking forward to suck store tomorrow, because i know i'll make tips and have an easy day. despite the bit about waking up so retardedly early.

i guess i can write tomorrow. and hopefully read a little of that book, too.

i can relax a little, knowing i handled some business this weekend, and tomorrow i can clean my apartment and maybe even do my laundry, and not feel so bad about just sitting around all weekend, and going out a little, too, and not getting anything done around the apartment.

i'm dreading this week. and i shouldn't be. i mean, there are legitimate reasons to dread it. but there's also a couple things to look forward to. like my birthday.

i just hope it's better than the last few.

i can't believe that last year, i was home now. and halfway through my trip. in fact, to think about it, tonight was probably the exact night that coffee showed up and knocked me on my ass.

i can't believe how much i cried when i had to fly back here to ever and a shitty life.

so this birthday has to be better than that. even if it isn't spent having wine with lindsey and mom's birthday cake that i was too nervous to eat.

one thing is for certain. i won't be wasting my wish this year on stupid coffee. all i wanted was a phone call.

and i never got that wish.

it's fine.

i've come a long way. and hopefully 2011 and 33 will be my year. things will have to get easier after they get worse.

i just keep wishing time away. and i know that's not right.

i just keep wishing for it to be summer. so i can reach some crazy goal i set for myself without buckling. and be home where things are slow and easy and ever-free.

i should do some writing exercises. but i'd rather watch the next buffy and drift off to sleep.

goodnight, blogger. goodnight, moon.