foibles and follies

My new landlord sucks.  Since signing the lease they said they would work to get me in early.  My lease is for the August 3 but my old lease ended July 31.  July came and went.  I moved my stuff out and put it in anglkat's garage.  My new landlord said they can't let me in early any longer.  I'm annoyed.
I'm also  strangely sick and have a  doctor's appointment tomorrow.  My heart feels like it's working too hard, but the rest of me feels fine.  I'm breathing fine.  I'm not specifically tired.  I've been a little stressed with moving, but I'm actively relaxing.  I don't know.  I have an appointment.  When I made it, the office staff just wanted to talk about Starbucks. 
I'm really excited to have my own space again.  I'm excited to have a dishwasher and a washing machine, a comfortable couch and just a place to be anytime I want.  I never really feel at home here.  I feel like a visitor or a guest - a particularly rude guest at that. 
I'm not sure what I should be doing right now.  I've done all the moving business that I can.  I don't think I should go to the gym with my funny pitter patter.  I have the day off from work and am just trying to relax for a while.  I wish my movies weren't packed.  I would enjoy a movie right now.  Something comfortable and character driven - probably The Royal Tenenbaums or As Good As It Gets - because I haven't seen "my old friends" in a while. 

The inertia of my world keeps me moving in the direction I've set.
I haven't yet made my schedule for graduate school.  I need to start contacting my adviser, but the time line they sent me back in March or April didn't show anything to do before August 14 or so.  I'm just not really that worried though.
I am moving and need to nail down information about that as well.  My move in date is August 3, but my roommate and I asked if August 1 would be a possibility.  When we signed the lease, the landlord and staff were friendly and accommodating but not good listeners. So I'm sure I need to call them and remind them.
The implication of moving out on my relationship remains my only worry right now.  The responses I get and the limited communication constantly shift what I think is going to happen.  I try to reassure that I have no intentions of breaking up.  His responses and comments are always vague or passive aggressive.

This weekend I'm going home for my nephew's first birthday.  My whole family is coming - including my uncle, great uncle and slightly senile great aunt.  She is one of my most favorite people in the world because she's lost all her faculties for tact and appropriateness.  Yes, this is the great aunt who makes off-color sex jokes to family members. 
The party is on Saturday and will include lots of my sister's and brother-in-law's friends as well.  On Sunday, my family is reinstating an old-school Maryland tradition not seen since I was age 8.  We're having a CRABFEST.  In Maryland, it's common enough party to have sometime during the Blue Crab season where you host a bunch of people at your house and eat crabs.  We had one every year of my childhood until we moved.  20 plus people would come and eat whole crabs in our back yard and drink beer and generally be merry.
My dad would play games while cooking the live crabs.  He'd grab one out the bushell and others would grab hold forming chains.  The game would be to see how many crabs he could get in one chain into the pot.  In variably one or two would let go fall to the ground and start scrambling around the kitchen floor.  I as a child of less than 8 would scream.
The birthday party will be fun.  I'm super excited for the Crabfest though.

Yesterday, I went through my LJ and added tags to my last twenty or so posts.
It really made me feel better.  It's completely self fulfilling clearly to feel validated by rereading your own journal entries.  However, it was nice to read and remember when things were particularly bad or worse than they are now.   Just remembering my own past makes my present seem so much less important.
I dyed my hair black two days ago when it was long and shaggy.  This morning, I got my hair cut.  Now that's it's cut I like my hair a lot.  The last two days, I was neutral because my hair was so long and fluffy and annoying.  People keep saying it makes my eyes look more blue.  I think they look less colorful though and more gray.
I'm going home on Sunday night for my sister's belated birthday dinner.  I'm a little nervous for my parents to see.  I dyed my hair before.  They never really care, but my dad likes to poke fun at things like this.  Plus in high school, when I talked about dying my hair, my mom only asked that I didn't dye it black or platinum blond.  She just didn't want me to look too goth.  I really don't think they'll have any comments on my hair to be honest.  But it's still the first thought that occurs to me when I think about going home on Sunday.
Here's the real problem with having black hair.  Half my beard is brown - light brown.  The other half is blond.  I shave once a trimester right now, and usually clipper my beard to have perpetual stubble.  For a while, I'm going to shave with a blade and all every *other* day.  Or at least until I get too lazy.

I can barely get out of bed the last few days.
Today it was raining.  I always sleep well when it rains.  At home, my bedroom window looked out into the screened-in porch with it's metal roof.  The rain hitting the roof sounded in my room like soft snare drum taps and was consistent enough and ambient enough to quickly put me to sleep and keep me sound all night.  The common hissing sound, like rustling sheets of paper, does it for me too.  You can hear that almost anywhere when it rains, though.
It's not that I'm tired and sleep late to catch up.  I just don't feel ready to get out of bed.  Usually, when I sleep without an alarm set, after nine hours my body tells me it's rested and ready to get up.  Lately, I wake up, feel rested and yet still decide that sleep is a better option. 
I know it's a symptom of depression.  I am somewhat depressed.  But I'm unwilling to make changes before their time, so I'm just letting myself live through it for a bit and letting my brain balance itself out slowly.

I got very happy news a few days back.  anglkat is coming back to UF for law school in the fall.  With mowgies527 in toe, grad school looks even more ideal than before.

My friend and I have a tentative plan that I will father her child in seven years if in that time she has not found a man worth settling down with.  It's a half joke half truth.  Right now it's fun to joke about and think up songs for the mix CD we'd listen to on our way to the sperm bank.  (If you really think about it, you know a lot of songs about masturbation.)  In seven years, we'll evaluate the situation and see what is what.  But beyond this pseudo plan, I have no goals in the way of marriage or children or the like. My goals are still school oriented and career oriented and I'm not sure that will ever change because I'm not unhappy.
My boyfriend tells me I don't know what I want or who I am.  He says I'm still figuring it out.  However, that's really not the case.  I'm not figuring out whether or not I want a spouse and kids.  Right now, I don't want them at all.  If and when this will change, I'm not sure.  Certainly none of what I'm saying is unusual for a 24 year old.  I don't feel a lot of pressure from anyone to settle down more so than I have already.  It's not really a worry.  It's just a series of thoughts I've had upon realizing that I've hit the marrying age.

I have to be at work in 40 minutes. I'm debating whether or not to wear clean clothes that will be hot and ill fitted or dirty clothes that I like.
I hate having to drive to a laundry mat.
I got mowgies527's wedding invitation in the mail today.  It's one of those wedding's that been a long time coming but it's also one of those rare wedding in which I personally have no worries.  I don't mean to be the cynic all the time, but I can't not evaluate any information presented to me.  When I hear people are moving in together or getting married or even small decisions like going on vacation together, my mind immediately starts processing the probability for disaster and the possible outcomes.  So ultimately, I'm really excited for this wedding because all signs point to success. 
When I heard about this engagement, it was the third wedding of friends of mine from school I'd learned of in a span of two weeks.  That was when I realized we're in the marrying years now.  It comes in phases, and I watched it happen with my sisters and their social circles.   First come graduations.  Then come marriages.  Next come lots of people with baby carriages.  It's all pretty normal. Really, with the exception of changing availability of higher education and the specific ages of the couples, this is what has been done since civilization began, right? 
I'm not ready to buy in though.  I'm always happy for my friends who want to get married, and I'll be happy when they start reproducing too.  In both cases, I might have concerns, but I'll still be sincerely happy.  These  "next steps" are nothing I'm interested in for myself for another 5 years however.   I'm happy continuing my life of self  interest. 

I don't work today, and I've spent my time sitting around the house searching for apartments.
I'm in week four of not having a car because mine is being fixed in Jacksonville. It should return either this week or next. Over all, not having a car hasn't been terrible. I live close enough to work to walk and I don't use my car all that often anyway. However, the psychological effects of "being stranded" have set in. I feel like I can't do anything. I feel trapped and stuck. Plenty of people have offered me rides or even access to their cars. If I had a car right now I don't know where I would go -- well I'd go to Wendy's but only to the drive thru ,and then I'd come right back here and watch more television. But so, I don't have specific plans or need of transportation. I'm just bogged down by the notion.
This is the end of publicly announcing that I'm waisting time.

My last post is from 2005. I didn't die. I didn't move to a developing nation.

I fell in love. We've moved in together.

I got rejected from graduate schools. I stayed in Gainesville and continued to sell coffee. I boosted my resume, rewrote my thesis and reapplied to schools. Now I got in to three programs and am returning to UF.

I came out to my parents. They're as accepting and complacent as ever. They just turned the screened-in porch into an official Florida room with glass windows and air conditioning. Every time I go home, they've shown me the newest installation.

Sometimes I think I'm only pandering to my four additions: alcohol, orgasms, sugar and caffeine. Then I realize I'm not lacking self-discipline. I'm lacking substance. And as the book-addicted, marching-band clarinetist from high school, I realize I don't care.

I don't know where I've gone either. I'm sure I'll be back soon.

as the clutter comes back in my room,
simple objects with specific homes wander like nomads on my desk
I start to feel anxious about school and my responsibilities

My mother used to come into my room once a month in a frenzied state with dusting spray and rag in hand. She'd sit me down for a whole saturday and make me clean and organize everything until she felt satisfied with it. I was equally satisfied with the mess and the clean.

I keep forgetting to send away for Graduate school applications. Stupid little tasks like that, which are always on my mind, never get done. Just like going to the bank or grocery shopping, or cleaning my room, I put it off to handle more pressing matters with immediate deadlines.

I'm about to go to sleep, but I feel unprepared for classes tomorrow. The punchline is that I don't have to prepare anything for tomorrow.

except on my left thumb and right index finger, my pliable nails show the jagged curves of my tearing with my teeth.