'i thought i could organize freedom. how scandinavian of me.'

i know i used the quote before. but it came up again today, and seemed fitting again. so here you go...


every day, i want to write. and then i sit down to do it, and feel completely uninspired and without anything to write about.


i woke up really sad this morning. i cried a little before i got up.

my old roommate in tahoe had a horrible day yesterday. i was writing that post at suck store and she got me on fb. she told me that she was kinda freaking out, because her dog wasn't doing well.

that she could tell by the way he was laying when she woke up that something wasn't right. she thought he'd had a stroke or something, because he was having a hard time with one whole side of his body.

she told me that she had to pick him up to put him on the couch next to her, and it was about then that, in my mind, i thought 'eli is going to die today'.

it was sad to think about at work, and i was already having a shitty day. my heart went out to her. she talked to me for a little while, and said that she had to go, because he just tried to come into the room where she was and fell over.

it just killed me. he was old. she had him before we lived together, and that was twelve years ago. i think i met her right after she got him.

and my head went to 'marley and me', and how animals know. they just know. and some go off on their own. and some want to be near you. and eli just wanted to be near her.

and last night, she posted that she had lost her buddy. and it made me cry. and when i woke up this morning, so many people had written about it, because he was such a rad dog and everyone knew him, because she took him everywhere with her.

it was a total bummer.

and being so sad about it made me re-decide that i don't know if i can get a puppy. because i don't know if i can deal with it dying. or worse, having to put it down.


after all of that, i worked a long day. it was quiet, and i was alone. with just my mixes, and too much time to think.

i wish that my second pick boy wasn't so entangled in my old life. he must know so many people that i know. he probably went to a party at the house once, if not more. and i just didn't know, or wasn't there anymore. i'm sure he knows the dudes, and probably cat, too. i might ask her about him, just to see. he lives at a house that was very similar to what ever was doing in ours.


i struggle with mine/ours. i know the house is mine now. and that it was ours. and somehow, in the last few weeks, i've reverted back to i/we mixups when talking about the house.

it took so long to break that habit. i mean, ten years together, i think a few months is fast, but it seems so strange to revert back to it now. is it happening because i saw ever and dealt with ever so much? because ever was calling and texting me and making me think about him?


i was trying to set up a dancing night tomorrow. but no one responded to my prompting. so i suppose i'll spend another friday night the way i spend the majority. alone. home. drinking. feeling sorry for myself. now with the added stress of packing.

i've gotten a lot done, but now what is left to pack is the hard stuff. the things that normally just get tossed into random boxes. the stuff that was easily organized was packed right off the bat.

the bathroom was done the first day. all my closets are empty and packed, which was pretty easy because it was mostly in bins already. i have about half of the kitchen (the half i use consistently) to pack, and about half of my bedroom.


i just can't make myself do it.

the only way i've gotten this far with the house and packing is by not thinking about it. the concrete nature of this move.

i think the majority of the reason for my foul mood yesterday was ever-related. cleaning the house for one hour was really upsetting. and yeah, i knew it would be, but still...

seeing how the third floor looked after a once over was really upsetting. there were things that i hoped would come up off the floor. that didn't. that won't without some serious chemicals and hardcore scrubbing.

and some can't be fixed. like the shower stall. it just has to be replaced.

i guess that being there, and caring so much about the house, despite parting with it for a year, made me very angry. because he is so disrespectful. so unappreciative. and inconsiderate.

but, these are all the reasons why i left his dumb ass.

and somehow? still surprised. not surprised... disappointed. and kit said, 'but that meant that you had higher expectations.'

and she's right in a way. it was more that i was hopeful. that he hadn't completely destroyed an entire floor of the house. and trashed the rest.

and the hopes were dashed.

i was disappointed that his pile of shit in the living room that i carried downstairs for him was still there. i think i might put it in the basement. get it out of my sight, and not throw it away, even though i want to and am tempted to.

no need to be a spiteful bitch. i don't need that karma following me around.


so tomorrow is going to be different. i might go to delaware, even though i wasn't planning to go until monday. it's up in the air tonight.

all i know is that i get to sleep in. and have an easy day, whatever i do.

i will go to the house after work. and go tan after that, to make myself feel better about things. and then either come back here and pack, or go dancing and vow to hit on one cute boy.

i know which sounds more fun. but i also know which i do not have the balls to do.


pandora just dealt a song to me that i had been thinking of lately:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdTw596Ok68

i'm grateful for that. also, today, i learned that rob crow has a solo project cd out. i must have it. and r.e.m. put out a new album this week. crazy. i thought they were done for! supposedly, it's really really good. i'll review it after i give it a few thorough listens.


now for more nighttime daydreams about living in outer space...