-While I have nothing but the biggest hearts for the Schaeffer children, riding in a car with all three of them for eighteen hours is a self inflicted torture chamber. A catalyst for mental calamity. An escape-less cube of doom. A situation that humanity must avoid at all costs. Either way, they are still some of my best buddies (excuse the indiscriminate annoyance that is attached to the aforementioned word).
-I just began reading a new book: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. When I say "just began"... I literally mean page eight. There was some sort of parallel universe link between the pages of my book and the volume dial of Eric's car. With each turn of the page, it seemed as if the volume raised. It was as if there was some sort of invisible connection from the corner of the pages that slowly pulled the circular knob closer to maximum intensity loudness. It got to the point where it was me or the music because I couldn't even recognize the words in my head due to the strength of the sound. Then, as soon as I gave up and closed the book, the music lowered itself back to a tolerable state. The same invisible connection was able to lower the sound as easily as it raised the sound. For whatever reason, it was working against me. The point is, this guy is funny. Hopefully, I will read more of it today once I stop being lazy.
-Refrain from breaking stranger's showers/bathroom walls. In Philadelphia this weekend, my vertigo set in as I stood up and stumbled harshly into a empty and excruciatingly hard bathtub with an unstable shower curtain as my only defense. Needless to say, I ripped that curtain and its bolts from their insecure, rotting walls. The jimmy-rigged curtain was an epic fail when the wire strung around the plant fell, too. Gosh, I hope they don't have any extenuating charges via my ridiculousness.
- I should thoroughly consider weight loss, seeing as how my friend drew a "stick" figure of me as a fat blob. Ouch.
-It's funny how much you (in the general use of the word) want something that is no longer there. Something that wasn't a necessity until it was truly gone. If David would have asked me to be his girlfriend the day that he died, I would have laughed at him. The only way I would have agreed would be out of spite and jealousy that he had someone when I did not. Now, though, it is a crushing pain and a harsh realization that we could never be. I would even go as far to say that it is paralyzing sometimes. Today, for example. Losing your v-card on v-day, so cliche and embarrassing. Regardless, it floods me with memories that render me weak in the stomach, wet in the eyes, and barely able to breathe. This happens with so many things... after three (sort of four) years of a relationship, there isn't much that doesn't at least kind of remind you of the person. His mom is finally going through his room and getting rid of some of his stuff. With his clothes, she is getting teddy bears made out of them. As selfish as it sounds, I'm kind of annoyed that certain people got picks before me (i.e. my "best friend" who had sex with him and lied to me about it until after he died... the best of timing).
-I mentioned Valentine's Day earlier, but I have the most insane, round about thought pattern that it is hard to construe what is going on up there in a feasible way. I am going to have the best of days... slept until two as a result of an 8 a.m. return home from NYC, made instant mashed potatoes that I ate while I uploaded photos to facebook, got a shower, made a stupid blog entry, going to take a nap (naked post-shower nap... the best), and later... I will be getting really romantic with a poster-board about acquired brain injury and emotional processing deficits. Dis iz duh lyfe.
-Help.
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