why would you wanna go on the list?

I spent the last two days with my grandparents.  Yesterday (Monday) was really good.  We drove out to my da’s parents house and spent the day visiting.  ‘Visiting’, I have learned, actually means sitting around and talking about who has died, who’s gotten married, who’s in prison, and who isn’t talking to whom anymore.  During this whole period, I didn’t say a whole lot (what did I have to contribute anyway?), but it was really cool getting to spend time with my grandparents again.  My grandfather gave me a five dollar gold coin from 1909.  It belonged to my grandmother’s father, I think.  Da kept saying ‘Grandpa Po.’, which usually means *his* grandpa: my great-grandfather.  I’m going down to the jeweller’s with Da tomorrow; we’re going to have it re-framed and put on a chain.  I’m excited.  I think this is the first thing Grandpa John’s ever given me directly.  It’s really special to me.

Today’s grandparent visit was not so great.  Of course, visiting those grandparents never, ever is.  When I got home and was telling my mum about it, she got really quiet and dismissive.  So I got frustrated.  Because that’s how I am.  Da came downstairs a little later and told me off a bit  for saying anything.  Apparently, Mum thought I was being ‘disrespectful’.  As always when I come to BTown, it’s high school all over again.  Jeez louise.  

I’m moving back south next week.  I feel like the past four years of my life has been nothing but packing and unpacking boxes.  Oh well.  *packs another box*  I guess I’ll think of it as a ‘mobile lifestyle’.  Really I’m just a bloody nomad.  Have I graduated yet?  New life plan: finish school.  Graduate.  Move to Chicago.  Work at a children’s theatre.  Go to Clown College next August (maybe?).  Stop being crazy.  Eventually go to grad school, possibly at DePaul, programme TBD.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  This is what happens when I listen to too much Okay.

Paiga gets in town day after tomorrow.  Cannot cannot cannot wait.


you’re my only

I’m back from Chicago after a couple of days.  I didn’t get to see as many people as I wanted to, but I got some quality time in with Paiga, Randy, and Marina.  It was nice.  The ride home was a little rough, but not as bad as it sometimes is.  Jesus.  The temptation to drop out and run away from home is so comically overwhelming.  One more year one more year one more year.

I’m being almost constantly hounded about MSP stuff right now.  I can’t believe I was dumb enough to decide to stay in Carbohnduhlay this summer because of a boy.  Bad call.  Awful call.  I should know better. I *do* know better.  I’m going to be kicking myself until 20th July.  Jeez louise.  Next summer: internship in Chicago for sure.  Or working in a coffeeshop and slowly starving to death.  I DO NOT CARE WHICH.

Feeling melancholy and lonely, but incredibly happy at the same time.  The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray.  That’s all.

your father’s body was judgement day

I’ve been back in BTown for about a week now.  I have yet to get into an outward fight with my mother, which is bloody miraculous, if you ask me.  I’ve hung out with Boz twice, Stacy one and a half times, I’ve made vague plans to see Christie, and I’m going up to Chicago Monday morning.  I forget how frustrating the corn fields can be.  …Well, not really, but sometimes I can pretend to forget in favour of thinking there’s something more exciting after finals.

For anyone who didn’t hear, there was an ‘inland hurricane’ in Carbohnduhlay last weekend.  Trees were knocked down like crazy, the power was out until this past Wednesday, there was a boil order placed on all tap water, and everyone was more than positive that the apocalypse had, in fact, come.  I spent Friday night at my friend Amy’s house with some friends, talking about religion, family, and politics and eating boiled hot dogs.  It was wonderful.  Getting home on Saturday was hell on wheels up until I got out of Du Quoin, but I think getting home for a shower was totally worth the stress-induced panic attack I had once I hit St. Johns.  

So, yes.  BTown.  I forget, sometimes, how stressful my house is.  It hasn’t been too bad, thankfully, and I found where Mum and Da keep the doggie downers.  This is wonderful news.  I’ve been having really weird, uncomfortable dreams since I got back.  This morning, I dreamed about stage managing all of the shows next semester, which would more or less cripple my department because no one would learn how to do it and I’m graduating next May.  A few days ago, I dreamt I was doing speed with my ex-boyfriend at this very illegal high school party.  The only good part of this dream was that we went to see Star Trek while we were still under the influence.  Unfortunately, I woke up before that part happened.  Thus, tragedy.  Do not want.

It’s nice to be with my cat, though.  I’m celebrating by getting rejected every time I try to cuddle him.  He’s celebrating by mauling my arms every chance he gets.  I miss him when I’m at school.

This is a pretty lousy update.  I need to get back to writing substantial blogs.  Alas!