The sum of all parts

music + love + friendships + career + art + education + money + health + residence + dreams + responsibilities + future = mass fucking hysteria and confusion in the brain area.

Life heartily enjoys bestowing on me the stark contrast between pure bliss and utter misery. I guess romancing several loves in this life leads to a great deal of conflict when they all vie for attention. And I realize the cliché solution is to work towards my own happiness and not worry about anyone else, but that would require actually understanding what I really want out of life.

I am truly at a loss this time.

I will run around in circles until I wear one leg shorter than the other, like some dilapidated compass, swinging around and leaving broken arcs in its wake.

Numb

Last night we celebrated the six months we’ve known each other, although the actual anniversary isn’t until Monday. One of only a few “actual dates” we have ever been on. Dinner and a movie. Cheesecake Factory and Just Married. I think my favorite part was liberating three helium balloons from the Texas Station.

Tomorrow she will get on a plane, and when she gets off, she will be three time zones ahead of me. There, at school, she will stay for two months until her spring break. Driving home from her house tonight was one of the hardest things I have had to do in a very long time.

As hard as it is, she is worth it.

One perk I do tend to enjoy about living in Las Vegas is the t-shirt weather in the middle of January.

Amy Grant – Greatest Christmas Hits, Volume 1

Barry Manilow. Celine Dion. Michael W. Smith. Barbara Streisand. Amy Grant. Vanessa Williams. Frank Sinatra. The three Kennys. (Loggins, Rogers, and G). Even the Vandals.

I swear, whoever the hell came up with the concept of a “Christmas Album” should seriously be shot in the face. “Hey, I have a great idea, [insert name of famous pop star here]! Let’s take all these overplayed Christmas songs and record YOU performing them! I promise it won’t be annoying this time because it’ll be YOU doing them! We can totally cash in on consumerism while making people think they are celebrating the spirit of Christmas!”

And as if that’s not horrible enough, then you have the people who are so void of creativity that they actually put out multiple Christmas albums. For example, Amy Grant has not one, not two, but THREE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS ALBUMS. I know this because my mother owns all three and blares them throughout our entire house at this time of year.

And this whole time I thought it was the radio that was boring, repetitive, and lacking any artistic merit. I can’t wait to start shopping at all the festive department stores!

Christmas 2002, brought to you by the Walmart Corporation and McDonald’s.

Just one of those days

CRITICAL THINKING EXERCISE: IN FIFTY WORDS OR LESS, CONVEY THE FEELING OF “FRUSTRATION” WITHOUT THE USE OF ITS SYNONYMS.

hjbd lkjnnk;l fe;lkeafbnkd k;slknd k ldaf ljfdaae flkvdWlkn v;k fa ljdfa;k realjf;k feajbofe a;k rwpoib53ipn4tbko genpifd zkl; b08hb35aki abe98u iv3q098n kbte098bre alk53q098h3 5qlk4t ae08ebtsalk gezb9h8best ste0984wh5 p h5em[y5e 90y53 ay5ea 08hte spdh opishte htea0 y53qihte a9nphget;ohe 3y509 35ahh5ij3 lkre ag9p87b jlk ;df08 qpi43o r087 p rgs0 oiufd;l zrdso;irsgdaoirepoi

Neurotic bastard

When I walk around, I pay very close attention to the ground. I am careful to step over each crack in the concrete.

I’m not superstitious or anything. It just keeps me occupied.

If I’m walking on tile, and if they are big enough, I try and step square in the middle of each tile.

Or if they are smaller, I just use them as a guide and try to space each step out equally.

Sometimes I like to go diagonally, if I’m feeling frisky and the shoe fits that way.

If I’m on the phone, I pace. If I’m in a chair, my legs rock back and forth and my head bobs up and down.

Teeth grinding. Nails bitten off.

Let me the fuck out.