The Stacks

Sorry for the lack of postage, peeps! I've been crazy busy, but here's all the stuff that's going on, inside and outside of my head:

There is a gorgeous man sitting in my dining room right now. He lives in St. John's, but grew up with my roommate Sandra. I don't think either of my roomies think he's hot at all, but I was practically drooling. He's hot - trust me. I had a couple drinks with him, not dating material even if he were to bat for my team, but damn. Just.. damn.

School is overwhelming. I have two more novels to read, four essay to write, and three exams. It's just so much - gotta get cracking, like a.. cracker? Well, if anyone's a cracker, it's me.

Had a date tonight with a really nice guy, but unfortunately I don't think he's my type. I hope the two of us stay friends. I wish I could catch a dating break. Not like a break from dating, but catch a break. Like.. yeah, you get it.

My room is disgusting. How does this always happen? Do I wake up in the middle of the night and run around, throwing things in the air? I really think I do. I need straps to strap myself to the bed, but then if I'm strapping myself to the bed, I can unstrap myself, and that won't work. It's also a little kinky-like for my taste.

I wonder how many times I have mentioned on this blog that my room is a disaster? It seems to be a recurring theme.

I had a dream last night that one of my ex's died. It was one of those dreams where you wake up crying, only I woke up after having been crying, so that's fun. More of the dream was that I vomited in his coffin and then tried to hide the vomit from the people at the funeral, who quickly became the secret service. It was definitely one of those dreams that make me not want to sleep tonight, for fear that it will come back again.

I'm getting so good at ping pong! ...there's nothing more to this point. It's just exciting.

NaNoWriMo kinda died. My whole region, including me, have kind of given up. It really is insane if you're to think about it. Attempting to write 50,000 words in a month is just literary suicide. I want to stay involved to meet other young writers, but at the same time, I know I will never be able to accomplish the entire point of doing it.

There's this gigantic, five story room in the Memorial library called "The Stacks". It's all cubicles and tables and it's absolutely silent. I was there the other day, just sitting down to work on a couple things. I unzipped my bag to get out my books, and a girl sitting fifteen feet away glared at me. "Your bag's zipper should make less noise." She didn't actually say that, but I know she thought it! Then, while I was reading, I did a big unexpected sneeze, "Ah-CHOO!", with the "choo" being very high pitched as I do. I couldn't help it, but it happened, so whatever. This security guard (yes, they have security guards) was nearby and turned to me and said "SHH!" as if I'm some trouble-maker for sneezing. I should have started sneezing and coughing. What's she going to do - kick me out for bodily functions? I think not.

Do sneezes and coughs count as bodily functions? It almost grosses me out to think of a cough as a bodily function. *shrug*

I've been thinking of doing an updated Top 100 Songs. I had been working on it this past year, but I left it on my old compy. I know if I did, it would be completely revamped, and would probably have a new number one! *gasp* I know! It's gaspable!

I'm getting some marks back and all my english ones have been A's, so I'm finally getting my mom's support to go into something that's not me dropping out of school. She really didn't have much confidence in me, but it's starting to shift, so that's a nice feeling.

Seriously, I must get up in the middle of the night, twirl around with my legs kicking, and then go back to sleep, in order for my room to look like this.

Well, it's time for bed. Even though I'm already in bed, but it's time for my brain to realize I'm in bed so he can shut down for the night. Sandman, you're on the night shift.

Yeah I dunno. Night!

--Jam-a-bye-baby