Because secretly, I'm a masochist!

First of all, thanks to everyone with their helpful tips to my pill quandry below. And by everyone I mean Mern. Thanks Mern, you are my one and only true friend. Seriously, I am going to heed your advice and do some more research, thanks a million.

Carrying on the spirit of female bullshit, leg hair. Except for filthy bloody hippies and eerily confident European sexpots, no one likes it. Me included. For about a year now I have been getting my legs waxed. And although I have been trying not to be a total and complete pussy about it, it hurts. The average hurt is the enhh that feels like a hard flat-hand SLAP! that extends to a sting, but sometimes it's a YOWZA am I bleeding? I think I'm bleeding sort of pain. So I thought you should know the truth, because it is NOT like it is pictured here:

This woman is lying to you.

First of all, this woman is completely hairless to begin with. Plus that "wax strip" looks suspiciously like cling wrap. My waxer, Elvira (yes, Elvira mmm boppa mmm boppa mmm boppa mama), uses a bright opaque green wax on my legs with cotton muslin (?) strips. And when she rips off a particularly hairy patch and subsquently has to pry my rigored fingertips out of the ceiling, she's all, "Oh, I'm sorry, huneeee, are you okaaay?" just to make me feel better but we both know she doesn't mean it. She's there to pull hair out of my skin, dammit. No one said this was going to be fun. Smiles McHoohah up there? Not buying it.

Let me know if I can be helpful to you on any other topic. I also know a lot about online shopping via eBay and the recycling programme in my county.

All tha ladies in tha house

Do any men read my blog? No? Good, then I won't have to deal with the collective rolling of the eyes when I talk about my woman problems. Ladies, I need some advice. That's right, WE'RE TALKING ABOUT THE PILL!!!

Yaaaaaaaaaay!!!

Okay, so here is what has been progressively happening with my effed-up body during my periodical over the last year:

1. significantly enhanced crankiness/ripping off of people's heads
2. erratic bouts of hysterical crying (more so than usual), leading to an appearance of my alter-ego Puffy McFrankenlids the entire next day
3. massive holy-shit-I'm hemorrhaging-to-death! flow one month to next month barely a whisper of a visit from Aunt Scarlet
4. switch from a couple days of meh doesn't feel awesome but nonincapacitating cramps to one SUPERCRAMP day
5. the latest symptom: ridiculously long-lasting headaches. The current one is going on 48 hours

Clearly, this has to stop. Because I am in no way medically qualified, I have diagnosed myself as mentally unbalanced, overly stressed out, and on the wrong pill. So a visit to my gyno seems in order. Right now I am on Ortho-cyclen, have been for a few years, and I don't take the placebos. Seems reasonable that my body might be better suited to another configuration of pill, maybe a lesser dose of estrogen, dunno. So I'd like your input:

1. Have you had any of my symptoms?
2. If so, recommendations? Pill-wise or other-wise?

If you don't have anything helpful to contribute, then go fuck yourself.

I told you I was cranky.

Gnasty Gnashers

So I was going to write about the decrepit state of my cat's teeth as one part of an overall blog post. And I was going to paste up a really shitty picture of grotty cat teeth just to torture you, but then I found these.

And realised that the ENTIRE post needs to be about cat teeth.

Now, Ben isn't looking great these days. It's Summer, which means that his ears and nose are always getting bitten by insects and he keeps scratching at them, so that at any given time, he looks like a beat-up old hobo cat*. Plus, his coat is thinner now, so he's not the lustrous, manly lion-cat he is in colder months. But I took him to the vet last month, and while everything else was a-ok, the vet pointed out that his back teeth are not. She recommended a brushing which I was open to. . . for about 38 seconds until I found out that it would cost upwards of $300. And I just don't love Ben that much.

Seriously, $300 bucks? For a brushing? I know most of it is the anesthetic costs, and to that I say: I'm the only one getting professionally drugged in this family. So while I will not spring for the cleaning, I did buy a tiny toothbrush and pet toothpaste today. Ben is going to flip. I can't wait.

Anyway, here are the pics I found when looking for rotted cat teeth. These are better, trust me.
I know it's a bit blurry, but this one is my fave--look at this guy! He's like, "You want 'em? YOU WANT 'EM?? BLAAAAAAH ROAAAAR!!!!" I think that's even a little cat spittle at the bottom. Awesome.

This guy below is also like "BLAH FUCK YOU!" With his slitty eyes teeming with hate. I like this picture because it very effectively illustrates the amazing amount of difference in cat teeth size--look how pic the bicuspids (incisors? I never know) are compared to the little tiny teeth in between. They're like teethlets that one day hope to become teeth. Ben's are even more extreme. Sometimes I push his lips (?) apart to look at the teeny tinies with amazement, while Ben drools on me and thinks, "I hate you."

As much as I wish it would, this is not going to happen for me. I just envisoned a world where Ben would roll in with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth and be like, "Oh this? Just doing my part for dental hygiene, I know how much you hate it when I jump on your face in the middle of the night and breathe dead insect breath on you."
Okay. This cat has gold teeth. I would almost be willing to spend $300 on this.
I'd just like to close with reassurances to everyone that I indeed do have friends and even a lovely boyfriend. So don't worry about me. Too much.

*It's better this year, because I got some repellent ointment from the vet. Putting in on him is krizazy fun! Wanna come over and do it for me? Please?

HOW DARE YOU????

After receiving some particularly biting feedback on the, ahem, not-so-fresh feeling of the old COP, I wept. Large, hot salty tears for about three hours. But then I said no. No more feeling like this. No more feeling worthless. No more feeling guilty and bad for never updating. No more dodging the slings and arrows of heartless and cruel commenters. No more having a fulfilling life with exciting things that take me away from the COP. NO MORE!!! Because, today, 31 July 2007, I AM UPDATING THE CUP OF PIZZA.

I'm going to wait a moment to let you drink it all in.

Okay.

What I really wanted to do is find someway to have it be all quiet and then have THIS!

pop up and scare the hell out of you. But then I realised a) that's a tasteless and crude way to treat such a revered image and, more importantly, b) I have no idea how to program that sort of thing. But I do have a point with the pic, and that is to introduce to you the riveting tale of:

My weekend in DC: the first out-of-towner with Rob to visit Ginny and Paul

Yes! We flew up on Friday morning to hang out with my bestest fren Gin and her lovely husband Paul--realised that on the plane this was the first time in my life that I had flown with--shh--a boy! That I am dating! That I actually like, nay, lurve! It was so very weeeeeeiiiird, because either I have flown back and forth from seeing a lad or didn't date him long enough to leave city limits with him (latter constitutes approx 99.9% of scenarios). So there was that. And then there was this!


Pretty much as soon as we deplaned, Gin picked us up and we sped off to the National Geographic headquarters. Paul won a silent auction, so we got a behind-the-scenes tour of the magazine, the inside scoop on how they make it, a preview into the next issues, etc. The pedigree of that place is unbelievable--stood in the boardroom which is exactly how you picture the NG boardroom to be--fireplaces as tall as me, large incandescent floor globe, artifacts on shelves, famous photographs on walls--with an ornate double marble staircase leading up to the room with an original mural by NC WYETH ON IT! Amazing. Anyway, it was very cool but a bit overwhelming and afterwards we simply had to go for a drink, kicking off the veritable boozefest that would become the signature activity of the weekend. That night we had a delicious din at an Ethiopian resto--my first time--at which I greedily (and unwisely) plucked the last lamb niblet off the communal plate, not realising that the underside of it was sitting in a ridiculously potent pile of chili powder. One fire hydrant later, I was enjoying VERY strong coffee and the best baklava I have ever had. Ever. Ever ever ever.

Next day, boys' choice: this is why we ended up at the Air and Space museum.

I'll be honest: this is not the Smithsonian offering I would naturally gravitate towards, but there were cool parts. Imax film that made me want to throw up? Check. Seeing the original Wright Bros plane and the Spirit of St Louis? Check. Fondling of lunar rock? Check. Okay, I'm done. Except that we stayed for 3 more hours. Meh. Afterwards we went to the cafe in the Hirschhorn sculpture garden where we proceeded to drink ourselves into yet another oblivion. Stumbled off into the sunset across the national mall, being all that we could be and proud to be Americans. Met up with Peetah and lovely gfriend Darcy at a hip pizzeria in or near Adams-Morgan area that night. We ate, we drank, we conquered--good times had by all, sensible Ginny touting all of us home and finished the night trying to play Taboo and Scattergories.

Sunday was wind-down day, rainy and grey all day. Grilled in between showers and watched movies. Checked in for flight earlier in the afternoon and all was well as we prepared to return home. Until 5pm, when we checked on the flight to find it had been cancelled and they put us on standby with no notification for the next morning. Unacceptable. After 45 mins on hold, we got rerouted to a flight out of Reagan that meant we had to leave NOW to make it. Sped to the airport in very substantial rain, got inside and line for Delta was, oh, about 100 people long. I immediately resigned myself to the reality that we were not going home that night.

Sent Rob up to the front of the line, as he had the greatest chance of producing results in this situation, whereas I had the greatest chance of flaying someone's face off and getting us arrested. He came back to announce that the dickhead on the phone rescheduled us for the next night's flight, so now we didn't even have any dibs on flights going out earlier. Stood in line for over a hour--we finally ended up getting someone on the phone whilst in line who rebooked us for 11am in first class out of Dulles. Okay, that works. While that was happening, however, excitement brewed: someone had left an open laptop on the ground about 10 feet away from the line. We looked at it for a while and I finally went to get a TSA guy--I mean, who leaves an open laptop and walks away from it for--at that point--better part of 10 minutes unattended? TERRORISTS, THAT'S WHO! So it was all very dramatic, and before long, there were cops and TSA all standing around it, discussing what to do. But by then, we had secured the rebooking, so we just got the hell out of there--picked up a couple of pies on the way home and had a late dinner with Gin and Paul, who graciously hosted us for another night.

Got to the airport in the AM and found a scrumtiddlyumptious Potbelly right next to our departure gate. Yes! They were serving Italians! But it was 8am! And I figured my stomach would be like, um, no. So had a brek sandwich instead, read a little, and before we knew it, we were on the plane in our swanky seats looking disdainfully at all the riff-raff boarding behind us. HA HA!

Home. Back at work now, clearly. Speaking of, I really should get on some things. But I hope you've enjoyed the weekend recap. I'm actually off on break from school until the 20th, so stress levels should be fairly reasonable. I may even start working out again. Holy shit!

QCC2: Malta Memories

I was thinking this morning about the upcoming QCC3 and inevitably starting reminiscing about the last QCC, the beloved QCC2. Good times were had by all. Also several bouts of drunkenness, screaming, slamming doors, long periods of the silent treatment, and loud cursing, but mostly good times. Found some simple pics of the island that I thought you would enjoy. Malta really is a beautiful place. Happy Friday.

First, the awesome ones.

These pics have really nothing to do with being in Prague or Budapest--in fact, there's no way to really tell that they were even taken in Prague or Budapest. But they certainly were. Each one has the distinction of the subject either drunk or about to be.

And so, I present to you: Lena and El, finding something hilarious on the last night in Budapest at our already-local, Bonnie and Clyde's:
Here's photo-whore Jonathan with a wild-eye gaze after taking a big sip of beer.
Sarah, being extraordinarily dramatic about something. I think this was the cafe where we waiting approximately 2 hours for our food.
Mags in the subway getting way too close
And possibly my favourite pic of the whole trip, that of Ashish going k-k-k-k-k-krazy! for Unicum, the national drink of Hungary. It's a Jager-like liquer. STRONG. This was taken at the Unicum factory where we were taste-testing. The picture is blurry because I couldn't stop laughing. Good times.
See? Who needs pics of actual buildings and landscapes? These pics are the very embodiment of the Prague and Hungary effect!

Seriously, I'll get the rest up soon. Thought you'd enjoy a little peek into the debauchery that ensued.

Categories that are emerging thus far in my sorting of Prague/Budapest photos

1. Places in Prague that I remember what they are called pics
2. Places in Budapest that I remember what they are called pics
3. I know it's Prague, but I can't remember the name pics
4. I know it's Budapest, but I can't remember the name pics
5. I'm not sure what city this is from pics
6. Anonymous buildings with cool architecture pics
7. Drinking pics
8. Serious drinking pics
9. Blurry holy shit we were fucked up drinking pics
10. Next day standing around bored and hungover pics
11. Same shot but tried it with and without flash pics
12. Clearly trying to be artsy pics
13. Clearly trying to be artsy and clearly failing pics
14. Forgot camera was on pics
15. Forgot camera was actually on film mode pics. . . so really little movies
16. Blackmail pics that certain individuals would pay good money to never see the light of day pics

Budapest

Holy crap do I suck. I've been back a week and a half now. But let's get things going with a sister post to Prague, shall we?

Buda building (well, Pest building, actually) at sunset:
The Parliament building on the banks of the Danube. It is the the second largest P'ment building in world (London).
The impressive Hero Square. Where all the cool heroes go.
Kiddos, I literally have over 500 photos. I've sorted through about half of them. Will post link here when ready to upload. Speaking of, any suggestions re best pic hoster? Free, naturlik!

Prague

The view of the Charles Bridge from, um, another bridge. The consummate Pragueian pic, no?
Below we have the city view atop the Petrin hill tower. It was a drizzly day, but everything still looked beautiful. You can see four of the city's bridges crossing the Moldau. Nice!
Yay! I was very exciting to finally find this. It's the Dancing House or Dancing Couple building designed (in part) by Frank Gehry. Very neat! And people are just like eh, crusing by all the time.
So that's three pics for a start. Must get on some homework. No rest for the wicked.

Kisses,
Smelly.

I'm here!!! Okay, I've been here.

So I did Prague. The whole thing. The entire city. Nothing else to do. So I kicked it on over to Budapest. Here until the wee hours of next Sunday morning. Then home again home again jittity jig.

This trip has been fantastic--have a skillion pics, but blogga doesn't like this wireless connection. So I'll send a few on later once I'm on a better line.

Have seen, heard, drunk, and eaten much--has been a great time so far. I've been walking so much that I had the worst case of cankles in my personal history. I felt extremely attractive.

More lata--it's almost midnight here and I'm knackered. A town tour on the Danube, visit to the communist statue garden, 20+ wine tasting, and folk music and dancing show will do that to you.

And for those of you who want to snidely remind me that this is a school trip--shurrup. This was a holiday for you today as well. Suck it!!

I'm just kidding, baby, I love you. Mama promises she'll be good.

Whirling Dervish

Don't even start with me.

Suffice it to say that things have been hectic. I leave for Prague tomorrow evening; there for a week, then on to Budapest for another week. This is a study abroad program for school. It's going to be great; will have laptop with me, so theoretically can post to the old COP. But only if you are really nice. And say pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!!! Then I will think about it. Below, in concise bullet form, are some of the things that have been going on since we last danced:

• My boss fucking quit. With -1 day notice. Very likely so that she would not have to pay back her sign-on bonus. Classy and oh so very ethical.
• I got poison oak. In lots of places, but the moneymakers were my ASS and eyelids.
• Didn't get my US passport back from renewal until YESTERDAY. Many tears have been shed and many pants have been shat.
• In addition to getting ready to be out of the office for 2 weeks and scrambling to recover from boss' failure to return from maternity leave, I have had class in prep for this study abroad from 5-9pm every night this week

I am worn and wrinkled but pushing on. By this time tomorrow, I'll be. . . well, I'll be packing most likely. But then a few hours after that, hopefully sitting on a plane with a cocktail. Hmm, won't that be nice!

Kisses, darlings--what would you like me to bring back for you???

Shalom and happy Friday

First of all, I didn't win the lottery. I was a little surprised, because it had, after all, been such a lucky day. I know you, too, were shocked since I would have naturally split my winnings with my faithful readers. Ah, well. C'est la vie. GALLIC COMMENTER, DID I SPELL THAT RIGHT??? Never you mind, this is between me and Le Commentar Frog. S/he knows who s/he is.

Anyway, right now I am sitting in a little cafe having a coffee and my favourite breakfast of all time, a warm ham and cheese croissant. I'm down the road from the place where I will be volunteering today. For it is Community Partnership Day at my company aka the day everyone gets to skiv off from work and pretend to do good things for others but really just wave a broom around and shit. Except for me, of course. I take these things very seriously. I was even an event coordinator one year. Totally thankless job. This year I chose my activity solely on location. It only took about 20 mins to get here and it is IN TOWN. Huge sell. This afternoon I hope to get a mani/pedi. And pick up some meds for my sister. Since I love NOTHING MORE than running errands for my Africa-dwelling sibling.

The point of this post is, well, rather pointless. But I would like to plant the seed for a future post. And that is:

We put in an electric fence this weekend.

For my escapist animal.

More later, but let me just give you a little peek. The testing process was the best thing that I have ever witnessed in easily 10 years.

Bye!

Bon chance!

Today, a special treat for you. A photo essay, what fun! But it's only 5 (shit, make that 4) pics because Blogger wouldn't let me upload more. Anyway. Today has been my lucky day! Lemme explains.

This smug fellow here plays lab tech Hodges on CSI. He's kind of smarmy bastard, but last week's episode was all about him and his having a good day. So it's relevant. Kind of. Because when I realised I was having a lucky day, I thought about him.
I did not, however, think about the fact that I probably watch too much television. Perhaps I should have. Moving on!

Got up at the crack of crack to make it to the tire store this AM to get my brakes checked. Made it from house to store in 40 minutes, almost unheard of in this town on a work day during rush hour, albeit a lot earlier than I normally leave. While I was checked in at the tire place and drinking free-but-crap coffee, the news was on and sure enough there were not one, but two major wrecks on my commute that I would have certainly been ensnared in if I had been going to work at my usual time. To wit, Atlanta traffic:

I'm in the way back, far right lane. Just kidding. Anyway, this was win #1 for me: avoiding hellish traffic. Then, the tire guy came back and said that my brake pads didn't need replacing yet and was very nice and printed out my car history and didn't charge me for anything and sent me on my merry way. Win #2!
Oh, boo. I just had a fantastic pic of the brake pads to show and I just accidently deleted it and Blogger won't let me put it back where it was. BLOGGER!!! Fuck it!

Then, I checked my email and found out that I received an additional $800 in scholarship monies for my study abroad trip next month! Wahey! Next, I had yummy Thai noodle leftovers for lunch that made my belly happy and my breath pongy. It really did look a lot like the pic below:

Fully sated, I then went on a lively walk with two of my coworkers around the lake in my work complex, taking care to avoid the massive droppings of goose poo that litters the paths. Filthy geese. Passed a couple of turtles sunning themselves. Weather was completely perfect, bright and sunny with a cooling breeze.
Then I came back for a health services appointment and found out I gained 5 pounds from last December. I immediately rationalised this away because a) I'm about to start my periodical and b) clearly it's a muscle gain, which is heavier than fat. Because even this momentary setback wasn't going to get me down!

Because it's my lucky day!

I'm going to go blow my paycheck on lotto tickets.

He gives it two fingers up!

Well well well.
Received this lovely little response from Peetah in the email inbox last night.

Note how the offending CoP post is still on his computer screen at the taking of this charming photograph.

Note that I got the double bird with supporting fingers on either side, no less than the deluxe flip-off configuration.

Note the pretend paperwork on the desk as if to say, I am important! Just look at how much stuff I have to do! And a tie! I'm wearing a tie!

Note the fakey "boy am I really mad!" expression on his face. Do I detect a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth, as if approximately 1.7 nanoseconds later he exploded into a shrill, high-pitched giggle fit lasting for several minutes? Do I?

Not buying it, Hoberman. You couldn't stay mad at me if you tried. I'm just too hilarious.

Maybe I should turn comments off for this post.

The funny thing from earlier

So, anyway, the hilarious thing that Peetah said. As Mern very astutely points out in her comment to the post below, I am very mean to poor old Peter. But secretly, I think Peetah will be quietly pleased that he got so much attention on ye olde Cup o' Pizzle today, replete with not-one-not-two-but-THREE pics. And anyway, God is already punishing me by having a strange little red dot rash pop up on my right forearm this afternoon that is ever-increasing in itchiness quotient. So don't worry, I'll get mine.

She also points out that today may be my birthday. And indeed it is. I am the mighty 3-1, the old triple uno, le trente de un ala fromage de la pong merci au revoir. I wondered what 31 means in terms of police lingo, and with ten it means a burglary in progress. As in 10-31. As opposed to a 10-21, or a burglary in the past. Stupid burglaries in the past, current ones are just so much more in right now, ha! Ha! Ha!

So, anyway. Yes, it is my birthday. And it was about this very topic Peetah and I were discussing this morning. More specifically, I was telling him about Rob's present for me, still unknown. He is going to give it to me tonight. The present, that is, you salacious pervs, jesus. And of course I was pestering him this weekend to give me a hint and of course Rob immediately called me on my bullshit and was like, why don't I just tell you what it is right now? It's . . .and took a deep breath while I ran away with my ears covered squealing nooooooooo! because I secretly don't wait to know I just want to drag out the suspense for as long as I can.

But later Rob pointed out that there was no pointy point point in giving me my present any sooner than tonight, because--and I am quoting--"it won't be activated until then."

?????

I mean, ?????










Seriously, ?????





I'm at a loss. And when I told Peter this story, he was quiet for a few seconds, then gasped audibly, and whispered, "You're going to become a Wonder Twin!"

Naturally, my braying immediately filled the office, poured out into the hall, wound round the staircases, and blew out a couple of windows on the fourth floor.

Well done, sir. Well done.

I'll let you guys know tomorrow. Any guesses? House them in Comments, if you please.

Peetah is going to fucking kill me.

Because I'm posting this!!!

And again!

So this is what happened. Peetah rang this morning to sing me Happy Birthday in two languages, and in the ensuing conversation, said something hilarious that I immediately vowed to post on the blog, post-haste. Then, when I was getting ready to post, I thought, well wouldn't it be lovely to put a little pic of Peetah up as well? Wonder if I hve one? Well, I don't, so I went out to the internet and found THIS!

Peetah earned the coveted Career Spotlight from his grad school in October 2003 and was profiled on their online newsletter. I can't believe I did not receive any kind of notification during this time and am just discovering this information now. Naturally, I devoured the accompanying article. Here is my favourite part:

"During the interview I asked a ton of questions, which ironically showed how much I actually knew."

Because I am such a loving and supporting friend, my immediate reaction was, "What a dick." Then I thought, "This is not a great use of the word ironically."

Anyway, I'll get to the hilarious thing Peetah said on the phone later. Now, it's just time to openly mock a dearest friend for a 4-year old story.

One more time!!

Okay, I'm done.

My name is Eleanor, and I have a buying-stupid-shit problem.

God help me. I am officially an eBay addict. It used to be just the occasional book or whatever, but now I'm pretty much just stopping short of used underwear. I won't even tell you how many things I have tagged as "Items I'm Watching," but it's on two pages. And about a hour ago, I hit a new low. I saw something I didn't need with only one bid for 98 cents with 1 minute left and I bid on it SOLELY TO FUCK WITH THE LONE BIDDER. Luckily for him/her (and me), I was too late.

Help.

ps. I just won a brown glass bead necklace for a dollar. See?

You talking to me?

I love how very coy this coyote looks. For those not in the know, this is the animal that calmly walked into a Chicago Quiznos' yesterday via a propped-open door and proceed to sit in their drink cooler. The employees and customers filed out, animal control filed in, and crisis was averted. Read more here.

Anyway, this look tells me that if the coyote could speak, she would--in a soft, Southern drawl, purr: "Why, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Can't you see it?

On a related note: Chicago coyotes are fucking pussies. It's not even hot yet. Now when bitches from the ATL begin hopping in coolers, then it's hot. Peace out.

I love you. No, I hate you.

Re below post: everything's fine. We talked it out, both admitting shortcomings and committing to do better. Then we beat the shit out of each other. So it's cool.

I found a pretty neat little website today called the thedailyplate. It's a pretty neat beta site into which you punch in all the food you eat per day, how much exercise you get, and your weight goals. And it tells you how many calories you can still eat to be ok. Except that I eat a million little things per day, like 7 almonds and 5 leftover Sunchips (harvest cheddar yum). And that kind of thing is hard to put in the site. Not hard, exactly, but time-consuming. But maybe this is what THEY want. THEY being the non-fatty type who want others to be less-fatty. Because I can see wanting to eat something and then being like fuck it I don't want to have to log this in.

Or maybe I actually hate this website after all.

This is not a funny post.

I feel like crap. I have approximately 1,852 things to do before Ginny and Paul get here tomorrow and I have been running around like a madman all day today and will continue to do so until I pick them up tomorrow afternoon. So when my boyfriend calls and tries to make funny (read: not funny) jokes about me not being busy at all, I get angry and end the call. Then call back and leave a message about why I am pissed. Then take his call, find out he hasn't listened to the message, get mad and hang up. And steam for a while. But now my steam is condensing into sadness. And I can't concentrate on my shit that I so desperately need to work on. And it sucks. And I realise that sometimes it is easier being alone. Not that I'm going to do anything rash, but it's true for right now.

Thanks for letting me vent and putting up with my bullshit.