midnight to noon, i'm a desert child

I knew I was neglecting something. A decent-sized post about the state of my life is on its way. But for now, really quickly, here's a steam of consciousness list:

riding to work every day, cutting all animal products out of my life, saving money, spending money (internet shopping, you will be the death of me), daydreaming about big cities, figuring out life after graduation, itching for my filofax to arrive in the mail, weaning off my meds, smelling like a hobo everyday

o man

I'm tipsy and still covered in mint-green paint. Which looks amazing in my new room. Which matches my chipped nail-polish. I'm sorta loving life right now. I would entirely love it if I wasn't stressing about successfully moving all of my and Andy's things out of here in two days AS WELL AS cleaning this house ceiling to floor. AND transporting Tina. Godammit. Sometimes I make things impossibly difficult. 

finally!

Yes, yes, I am finished with my junior year of college. I'm usually the one person out of all my friends who has her most difficult final at 8 on Friday morning, but for the very first time in my college career, I'm finished on a Tuesday. It feels glorious. I'm not feeling all this pressure to go out and party and I like it. 

Today I:

- returned the 13 library books I had checked out and read over the past semester for my two 20-page research papers. It felt so good to drop them into the return box at the library! I had to carry them all in two bags and I think I looked a little goofy lugging them across campus.  

- organized my favorites bar, which was getting unorganized and out of control. 

- organized my bookcase, which seems a little silly since I'll be moving out of here before the month ends. I will miss these built-in bookcases by the fireplace (not to mention all the wood paneling) in this house. I'm scouring craigslist for something to hold all of my books. 

- cleaned out my makeup bag and bought some new shit for it. I don't wear makeup at work and school, but I effing love makeup. Like, expensive makeup that I shouldn't buy. Like, MAC and Stila shit that costs $30 for blush or whatever. I have lots of problems, but I'm not working on this one currently and it's bad. 

- ventured to the parents' house and went through all of my old CDs. I'll be honest: I'm not one of those people who has deep emotional connections to objects. Other than my Bobo bear and my journal, I wouldn't be too upset if I had to get rid of everything I own. In fact, I think I like throwing/giving things away a little too much. Thus, I have a box of CDs in my car that needs to be sold to Zia or Bookman's. Next to the trash bag of clothes I need to drop off at Salvation Army. 

- ate Inn-and-Out with Andy and listened to the most obnoxious (well, that goes without saying) sorority girls gossip about their friends and say, "If I had a boyfriend here, I would definitely cheat on him when I go back home for the summer." GO BACK TO CALI ALREADY. When I'm at work helping these idiots, I just have to remind myself that after Friday, they will be gone. 

- watched LOST (boring). Guess what, Amanda! My pa is going to be our designated driver for the LOST finale. You best take off work for that. 

Yay, productivity! Now to find a house and figure out what is going on with my schedule for next semester. I'm currently signed up for 2 classes, and I can't figure out this new system. I don't even think I can register anymore. Help me. 

I seriously cried while I was writing my analysis of this poem in my 17-page paper on W.B. Yeats WHICH I JUST FINISHED YEEEEE

This is my favorite poem. I want someone to read it at my funeral, for serious. It's so beautiful and hopeful and magical and gahh. everything good.

"Lapis Lazuli" I have heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow, Of poets that are always gay, For everybody knows or else should know That if nothing drastic is done Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out, Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in Until the town lie beaten flat. All perform their tragic play, There struts Hamlet, there is Lear, That's Ophelia, that Cordelia; Yet they, should the last scene be there, The great stage curtain about to drop, If worthy their prominent part in the play, Do not break up their lines to weep. They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay; Gaiety transfiguring all that dread. All men have aimed at, found and lost; Black out; Heaven blazing into the head: Tragedy wrought to its uttermost. Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages, And all the drop-scenes drop at once Upon a hundred thousand stages, It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce. On their own feet they came, or on shipboard, Camel-back, horseback, ass-back, mule-back, Old civilisations put to the sword. Then they and their wisdom went to rack: No handiwork of Callimachus, Who handled marble as if it were bronze, Made draperies that seemed to rise When sea-wind swept the corner, stands; His long lamp-chimney shaped like the stem Of a slender palm, stood but a day; All things fall and are built again, And those that build them again are gay. Two Chinamen, behind them a third, Are carved in lapis lazuli, Over them flies a long-legged bird, A symbol of longevity; The third, doubtless a serving-man, Carries a musical instmment. Every discolouration of the stone, Every accidental crack or dent, Seems a water-course or an avalanche, Or lofty slope where it still snows Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch Sweetens the little half-way house Those Chinamen climb towards, and I Delight to imagine them seated there; There, on the mountain and the sky, On all the tragic scene they stare. One asks for mournful melodies; Accomplished fingers begin to play. Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes, Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.

Gah! My life will be so different in about a month! It's scary.

I usually check out PostSecret every Sunday morning as a habit I developed in high school. I used to be really into it back then, but now I find it terribly corny and/or pointless. Yet, like the Dirty (ugh), I keep up with it now and then out of boredom and slight curiosity. I should stop looking at these pieces of shit websites. The Dirty, for obvious reasons, should not exist. But the more I look at PostSecret, the more I realize what crap it is. This week there are four anti-choice secrets in a row, and an email message calling the site out on its biased, misogynist bullshit. Despite the email message, however, there isn't one secret to balance out the obvious bias and ideology that's going on here. FUCK THAT.

I don't have much to say, as usual, but I thought I'd mention that for the first time in a while I feel particularly good. I've been more receptive to stepping outside of my comfort zone, having a good time, and spending time with people, all without conscious effort. On the level of consciousness, I've been trying not to bitch everyone out and tolerate them instead. I'm nowhere near perfect (as exhibited in my outburst on Niles), but I'm trying. Also, did you know that I'm on schizo/bi-polar drugs? Yeah, it's fucking weird.  

(whisk maracas)