i won't grace this crap with a witty title or song lyric.

hello, reader. long time, no talk. haha. that was a joke. i just can't seem to get enough of you. don'tcha love it?

maybe i'm getting a little carried away with the whole 'talking about my personal life' thing, but oh well. this it my fucking blog, and if i can muster the consistency and devotion to actually keep this thing current and running, you'll learn more about me, such as the fact that sometimes i'm really detached and sometimes i'm clingy. get over it. i may seem like some sort of blog writing robot, completely devoid of feelings or emotions, but let me tell you, that is not the case. i am chock full o' emotions and feelythings. that being said, i'm going to rant about my life right now.

what!? how can you rant, p.y.t.?

i'll tell you how, introspective omnipresent alter-ego. that's what i'll do. i'll tell you exactly how i can rant.

even though things seem charmed in the land of me, they're not. now, don't get me wrong. i'm not going to whine about how difficult life is when you decide you want to go to school in new york, choose a good school, get an impressive scholarship package, and have your daddy transfer the rest from his checking account directly to fordham and bam!, just like that you're in new york. i don't make false pretenses about how i'm such a poor little rich girl, 1) because i'm not rich, 2) because i'm 5 foot 9 1/2, a.k.a. not "little" by any means, and 3) because there's nothing poor about me. contradiction? i don't think so.

no, the problem is not how tough life is right now. the problem is that i have a tendency to be retarded. (is that an offensive use of the word? i don't know. maybe i should replace "retarded" with something a little more p.c. oh well, again. it's my fucking blog. i'll be as un-p.c. as i wanna be.) yes, the truth is, i can't say no, especially when i'm in a situation that i've gotten myself deep into to begin with. case in point, i like a guy, from now on referred to as #1, and i have an ex, known from here on out as #2, and i have another ex, affectionately referred to from this point on as #3. (this is all completely hypothetical, of course). well, let's hypothetically say that i hypothetically like #1 and that, hypothetically, #2 wants to rekindle old flames despite the distance between us (and boy, is there distance), and to top it off, #3 (who is NOT in the picture below) wants to come visit me
*correction- is coming to visit me (hypothetically) tomorrow and the only reason #3 (who is not in that picture, by the way) and i are exes instead of non-exes or whatever the proper word is in that context is because of the fact that he's based in houston, texas and i'm in new yawk city. well, what is a girl to do? what would my mama tell me to do if we were back at home, sitting on our porch drinking ice cold lemonade brought to us by our dutiful helper, mammy? okay, so we didn't have a dutiful helper named mammy and my mother and i never sat on our porch drinking lemonade, but what would she tell me to do, regardless of where we were or what we were drinking? (which, in my mother's case would almost certainly be an ice cold budweiser.. just saying..) well, i don't know what she'd say. probably something awkward and completely useless like "just make sure you protect yourself."

clearly this shit is getting to me because i'm up at 8 minutes to 5 in the morning when i have an alarm set for 8:45 so i can make myself pretty in time for my 10 a.m. intro to politics seminar that will serve as the first of three excrutiating classes that i don't want to go to and that i skipped on monday, so i can't afford to skip tomorrow. dammit. moments like these are when i wish that jim sturgess (whom i met that fateful day in strawberry fields at central park when he and half of the cast of across the universe sang songs from the soundtrack) would pop out singing "close your eyes and i'll kiss you.." i need SOMETHING to take my mind off the ditch i've dug myself into. i would say that i've made my bed and i'm going to lie in it, but that's part of the problem.

i just realized that my attention inferiority & defeciency syndrome has led me to go off on a tangent that in no way lets you, dear reader, know what the problem is. (for the record, i have a.d.d., not aids. i just find it exciting to spell it out like that. you'll notice as this progresses, that i find ways to make any ailments of mine into an acronym for aids. even bronchitis becomes aids. it's sort of a sick joke. hate me for it.) well, the problem is that i took a vow of celibacy before i moved to new york, and it's one that i take very seriously. i took many things into consideration right around the time i broke up with my boyfriend, and one of the biggest things i decided was that moving to new york is a huge change and will require an assload of adjustment, and i don't need sex clouding my judgement and stunting my flexibility and development.. at least for the first semester, which is the term i've set for myself. i'm so proud of myself for making this vow and i take it very seriously, but then my ex decides he's going to come into town and bring me my guitar and visit me, and well, that doesn't mesh well with my vow of celibacy. it's not so much the overwhelming physical effects that don't mesh well because i am an ace of spades when it comes to fending off advances and controlling my raging teenage hormones. i've realized it's more of a sense of comfort now. it's kind of similar to when you go on vacation without your parents for a little while and when you come home, you find yourself eating when you're not even hungry simply because you've gone so long without your mother/father/"aunt chuck"'s delicious food and it just feels like home to eat.

the really odd thing is that no one feels like home. the only thing that feels like home is new orleans and the city of new york itself. well, maybe one other thing feels like home, but he's irrelevant. so, what is a girl to do? oh me, oh my!

if you can make heads or tails of this, stop by 3M to collect a fucking cookie, because you are good.



now i leave you, confused and confounded, but with
much love.