Procrastinating again... this time by reading my email. Here's one from a Franciscan friend... the pessimistic cynical bitch in me found it surprisingly true. (There is some optimism left...)

1. There are at least two people in this world you would die for.

2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.

3. The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be
just like you.

4. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.

5. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

6. You mean the world to someone.

7. You are special and unique.

8. Someone you don't even know exists, loves you.

9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.

10. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look.

11. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

~~

Of course it was one of those chain letters that said, send it back if you really do love me, and I'm not that nice of a person... but hey, I try.

Delete.

I am trying to find an eloquent way of saying what should just be stated bluntly without the fluff of ninth grade English... I am the secret admirer.

Delete.

I was going to explain myself, but who really cares? If you find what I said that offensive that you're still holding on to the comment I made... well that's your fault not mine.

I will say this, Michael's blog is still, and will remain, boring.

Also, when Chan was hired (?) by Brian, he told me of the new girl on staff that reminded him of me. Perhaps that is why I enjoy reading her blog so much, because it reminds me of the good old days. (Ok, two years ago.) I was just laughing at the football game blog... I hated going to games, and I was always forced to go and miserable. I just love how Xavier (and FUS) has NO football team... and that could explain why I never did apply to Notre Dame. Basketball games will be wonderful... .they're inside.

~~~

I don't think I mentioned what really happened with Doug, but we're just friends. Which is wonderful, in lieu of the new Sicilian Boy Wonder (SBW.)

Besides, he finds my punctuality, (lack of,) annoying. Which pleases me. Who needs to be on time for things? Seriously now, I don't think the world would stop spinning if I'm not early to class. (Or work, or dinner, or whatever, since I don't believe I'm on time for anything.) We were arguing about it after I was late meeting him to go to Psych early. (Which would mean we would have been on time... but no. We were still early.) I don't feel disrespectful when I'm not on time to class. I rarely, almost never, walk in when the teacher is teaching, and if I do, (like with Spanish and Math,) it's because they begin teaching before class actually starts. I'll pass the blame to them.

Math was boring, as usual, so I made a list (one out of many,) of things that I should be doing today. I don't understand why I make lists when I never follow them.

I took a field trip to the library yesterday. It has a grand staircase that I was making my entrance down when Melissa pointed out SBW watching me. I'm glad I looked studious and didn't fall flat on my face. I'm kicking myself that I mentioned I never go to the library, there goes stalking him.

Foot in mouth.

Sometimes I forget that movies are based off of real life, and real life is not based off of the movies. I went to a rugby party. Ha. I swear I was an extra in a movie. Perhaps the lead. "Bookish college sophmore goes to her first 'real' party and stays sober. See how uncomfortable she becomes ..." Setting: huge Victorian mansion on the outskirts of campus, "The Rugby House." Props: eighteen kegs, balconies, and extras peeing off them.

That's about all you need to know about the rugby party.

I think my life of solitude is making a quiet exit.

I should be happy, for some reason I'm not so sure.

I feel like whining about how no one understands me, but I stopped to think and realized it is probably because I don't let people understand me.

I hate those kind of revelations. At times like this I wish I was flexible enough to give myself a kick in the ass. I need one.

I went out last night. What was I thinking?

Perhaps it was because I was cut from work at eight pm and made a total of ten dollars.

I need to quit.

I met a Sicilian, Catholic, one day doctor.

Just thought that needed to be in words.

Did I mention he reads books for fun and notices my perfect grammar even when he is drunk?

And he doesn't rock climb.

We shall see, we shall see.

The end.

Perhaps it was because I was always late. Or my lack of enthusiasm to go rock climbing. Or maybe I wasn't virgin enough.

Whatever the reason, I so called it.

I'll be accepting applications next week. Thank you.

Never tell a Fundamentalist how a Catholic reads the Bible.

That was scary.

I'm tired of playing games. If you like me, let me know, if you don't, leave me the fuck alone.

I hate playing life like it's a game to be won. I don't want to watch what I do, only talk to you at certain times, and play the prize. I don't want to analyze everything you say to figure out if it's a piece to the puzzle or a clue for the mystery... if people would be upfront about their feelings I wouldn't have to complain in metaphors.
Why are we in junior high all over again? Is this the secret to growing older? People become less mature and life is stuck in a seventh grade loop?

As I said, if he likes me he should just tell me.

Otherwise, go away.

It's sad when you open your fridge and find only applesauce and beer.

I'm hungry.

I completely neglected to mention my roommate's obsessions with Lysol. She has two bottles that she sprays persistently to remove germs. Usually they remove my breathing ability temporarily.

Somehow I don't believe a gross smelling spray will remove germs. There is no rubbing, no wiping away of the germs. Just adding. Adding gross grandma perfume smell.

I hate Lysol.

Delete.

I thought I knew what I wanted, and received what I asked for... now I think I didn't know what I wanted at all and should have kept my mouth shut.

~~

My room is decorated with pastel squares. I have a sticky note obsession... and there are a few above my computer that I've written sayings on that I would like to blog about ... at the time I wrote them I composed beautiful blogs about their meanings... now they're just going to look funny quoted at random. Oh well.

"Friends are people that walk with you into the future, not drag you into the past." This quote was from a conversation with Lindsay about a month ago. We were discussing the value of friendship. I was in one of my moods (as Brian so fondly calls them,) and was questioning so many different things. This revelation of mine about friends, and friendship, helped me to make some difficult but necessary choices. (I sound like I'm writing an autobiography because of my lack of talent at beating around the bush and defiant refusal to confront the bush.) To face the bush, people were pissing me off because they continued to live in the past. I was losing friends who were moving on, and had to make my choice. Why live in the past? I'm plagued with memories continually, I don't want to choose to live with them, I have enough of them already.

Perhaps when I am a doctor I can figure out the psychology behind memories. I detest them. The people you forget, the nights you've erased... all seem to come back at the most unpleasant times.

Another square sticky holds the quote, (from Lindsay,) "and 'sometimes' that's really just not enough." It was from the same conversation on friends. There seem to be many things in my life that go off of the sometimes rule. Sometimes we're friends. Sometimes we enjoy each other. Sometimes we hang out. "Sometimes" isn't really enough. Except when I sometimes hate people. That's a privilege everyone is allowed.

I have no idea where this came from, but everyone's heard it before: "Life is not a success only journey." I was thinking of a way to bring up today's gospel and here is the perfect opportunity. From the tenth chapter of Mark, Jesus is telling the disciples that they need to be able to drink from his cup and be baptized as He was. He fore-shadows His death by saying He is here to be a "ransom" for many. The priest was talking in his homily about how life is about suffering as Jesus did, and serving as He did. We are not here to be served, but to serve. I think the gospel and this quote go together quite nicely.

That's all for my squares of fun. I don't sound like myself tonight, not my typical writing. I'm beating around a bush that is too large to avoid. So I just won't speak of anything in particular.

Here's to speaking about nothing in particular.

Edit: I came back to spell check this... why doesn't blogger have 'blog' in it's dictionary? How peculiar.

Thought of the day from the birthday girl:

jojolibchen: when I was learning the parts of the skull in lab, I realized that I was holding someone's skull - made me think

UnaRegazzaBella: Yes?

jojolibchen: that some day - that might be my skull

jojolibchen: and some kid like me pretending to pick my nose

jojolibchen: shit

When you aren't living, you are re-living old memories. That sucks.

My advice for the day:

S: And despite all these things that are telling me, dont go back to him, everyone is telling me to go off of a stupid FEELING.....one little feeling which I'm not even sure what that is, is hard to follow.

UnaRegazzaBella: That FEELING is powerful. That feeling brought you into this world. That feeling saved you. And will save you when you leave this world. That feeling is all life is about. I say its enough to go on.

S: Damnit. I hate u now.

UnaRegazzaBella: I know you do.

How can you not know if you like someone or not? I really need to stop asking unnecessary questions. It seems to cause problems.

I already want to quit work. I'm going on my second week. It's sad.

Other news: I passed the roommate test. Met Doug's roommate John and John's sig-fig Emma last night. They are wonderful. John reminds me of "Peter from Boston" (in quotes because it can't be said without the attempted accent,) and Emma is a psych major and soccer player. We all sat around and watched TV until about three in the morning and then Doug walked me to the stairs. (I couldn't find them coming in... and ended up taking the elevator up one flight. He walked me there and pointed out - while speaking very slowly - the sign that said "Central Staircase." It happened to be directly across from the elevator. Oops.) Gave him a hug goodnight, (yes we are still PG here, no need to worry,) and found out for the first time how tall he really is. I came up to the top of his stomach. I almost cried. I'm looking forward to the cold weather and my boots. They have a nice pair of heels on them, which should make the very large gap only moderately large.

Oh yes. Doug is the guy from my psych class that asked me to study with him for our first test. (The one I was bitching about... yes him. The "study group of two?" Well, it's going to remain just two it seems.) It went uphill from there. He is six two, by the way. Athletic. From Louisville. Has a sister Kelly's age. Rock climbs, works for the theatre group as a techie/crew member. Loves movies and motorcycles, and perhaps walks on the river "beach." Not so sure about that yet.

He is the reason for my smiles, yes. I can hear everyone groaning and I join you. This is the last thing I wanted to happen. I walk by couples on the acedemic mall and gag. I won't ever become one of them. No hand holding or making out before class. No regressing to junior high. That all just makes me sick. Oh and I still am waiting to meet his current/ex girlfriend who I will happen to know and she will end up coming after me because I stole him away. I can feel her lurking in the shadows. In the odd case that he doesn't have a current/ex this is going to be a first and life will be different but grand.

Some people are missing the cynical bitch. Don't worry, I'm still here.

Life is wonderful. I can not believe how much I have been smiling the past few days. =)

Why am I watching the football game? Why are we winning? As India says about the Steelers "they are getting their asses spanked."

Rephrase - they got their asses spanked.

~~~

In our yearbooks when we were younger we would take erasers and erase the faces of our "enemies." Above their shirt collar we would draw in faces of our own.

Let's just say I'm sorry if you've been erased.

My father wants me to buy an Escort. I am having nightmares already.... Luckally when he said Escort he meant a '98 or '99 Escort. Not a Weiner Mobile. I believe I will survive. (That is if I get a car this weekend.) As long as no one refers to it as an Escort, or WM, I will be flying high.

I never listened when people said you can tell a man by his handshake. I'm listening now... there are some real slimy men in the car business. With weak handshakes. (If I have a stronger handshake than the guy, the sky is falling.)