This makes me sick.

Spoiled rich girl throws tantrum over birthday present.

I kind of want to meet her. So I can stab her in the throat.

This rice isn’t as good as I’d hoped it would be.

I don’t eat anymore. I don’t do homework, either, so I don’t know where all my time’s going, really.

Yeah. I got nothin’.

Well then, I guess it’s finally winter.

I’m thinking I could use me some like… gloves. Or a hat. Or a scarf. Or a real winter coat.

And then the Michigander in me speaks up and says, “BAH! It’s only going to get warmer!”

True that, Michigander, true that.

I’ve currently got a bit of a line-up of goals for impacting my future (not foals or hoals or coals as I almost typed) that I’d like to see at least partially fulfilled by the week’s end, kind of like soup cans on a fence railing that I’m shooting at with an AirSoft rifle. I’m not going into too much detail, for fear of jinxing myself, but I’ve already explodicated the first one, and I’m (finally) sort of on the way to getting all of my shit in a bucket.

This having a future, with real goals, and payable rents… it’s kind of cool.

I live off of chocolate and water. I eat fried chicken and junk food, and somehow I’ve still managed to lose 30lbs in the last eight months. That’s also kind of cool. I can’t afford to buy new pants as frequently as I may need to. That’s not so cool.

“Qualifications: Work ethic and interest.” That’s really cool.

In all, naught-seven is looking like it might be kind of nice to me… so far. Further updates upon arrival into the next month of it.

#255

I picked up my saxophone today for the first time in nearly two years. I played it, too.

I played for maybe fifteen minutes, max, and my mouth already hurt. There was a time when hours could pass before my embouchure tightened and air escaped everywhere. Hopefully, it won’t be too long before I rebuild my resistance.

I do Starbucks homework. Nerrrrrrrrd.

I’ve learned this week that I get very frustrated when those who know me better than I do give me advice… because they’re right. However, good things are already happening because of it, so I guess I’m over it.

Twenty years of general ignoring (ignorance?) from the dateable world, and today I was hit on twice on the street. Flattering, sure, and the gentlemen weren’t necessarily all sketch, but I don’t much like the thought of being picked up on the street like a hooker. Maybe it’s just me.

I’m so ridiculously–and inexplicably–tired, it’s hard for me to type. What?

Life’s nothing right now. I kind of want classes to start so that I a) have something to do and b) have something legitimate to complain about. Lucky youses.

It’s 2007.

I’m kind of amazed at just how little that’s affected me over the last hour. In years past, I’ve been very excited for the turn of the new year, even if I have spent the last 19 of 20 watching Dick Clark with my parents.

This being my first New Year’s Eve away from home, I decided to work.

Downtown Boston is not the place to be on New Year’s Eve if you’re sober and hate drunk people. Or just hate people in general. Yeah.

It would seem that with most major holidays, I manage to wind up feeling kind of depressed by the end of the evening. Tonight started out okay. Everyone at work realized that we were pretty much idiots for working on New Year’s, and it was fun.

Maybe I’m just tired? I closed tonight, got home at 01, and I have to be back at 0730 to open. It could be worse… I could not have a job. I’m trying something new, something Bailey tried to teach me tonight; looking for the positive side of things.

I’m going shopping tomorrow. I’m going to clean the apartment. I’m going to force myself to feel better because, dammit, I’m sick of this rut. Maybe I’ll rearrange my half of the apartment, too. Anything.

It’s 2007, and it will be better than 2006. No real resolutions of yet… maybe I’ll have some later tomorrow.

I’m off to enjoy my few hours’ sleep this morning. I hope everyone had a pleasant turn of the calendar.

Stay in touch. We’re all in this together.