The Impossible is Possible Tonight

I broke down today.

That never happens.

And of course, it's when it's snowing in April, I'm uncontactable, and I won't see my sister again for 18 months.

18 months. A year and a half. You might think it's no big deal. You're wrong. You have to realize that we've been best friends since I was born. In fact, I was her three-year-old birthday present. The longest we've EVER been apart is about seven weeks.
Seven weeks... versus 18 months? Sure, sisters fight, but we always moved past that within a day. I didn't have friends when i was little because I didn't need any, I had her.

Couldn't call my support network (beautiful boyfriend) because I'm out of minutes - i was talkin' to my sis for the last time and used them all.

lost my wallet. My entire life on paper, GONE. My identity, COMPROMISED. great.

and it's snowing again.

*sighs*

So in retaliation i've been gorging myself on leftover easter chocolate, coke (my fave anger drink) and watching mystery movies in my unlighted dorm room on my roommie's laptop.

i do now have a laptop... it's just at home. twas my sister's.

i'll miss you, carolyn.

Best February Ever

February is always the time when it won't snow, and the snow won't melt. It feels like winter will never end, and the cold wind will never stop blowing. It's the month to crave watermelon, lemonade, and corn on the cob. It's midterm season. The nights still start early. The mornings start early too. Earlier than I get up...

Maybe that's why this February seems different from the rest. Maybe it's because I'm out on my own. Maybe it's because this year midterms actually mean that the semester's half over. Maybe it's because I am actually in a relationship. Maybe it's because I'm in a relationship that is mutual and both of us are happy where we are. Maybe it's because I'm living on my own.

Regardless, I've got a bucket of chocolate next to me, a new teddy bear to cuddle, and it's not unbearably hot in my apartment.

Quite honestly, I'm glad my boyfriend lives two hours away. It makes the time we have together special. And that time together is usually on the weekends when i refuse to study. which means our time is both special AND unstressed!

my boy can read my mind. If i didn't like it so much it would almost be scary.
my boy makes me laugh. which is a far cry from what the last few could do.
my boy speaks fluently to my father.
my boy will let me bite him.
my boy knows what really matters and will put that first.
my boy loves me for who i am, and doesn't ask for anything else.

thank you scott. thanks for everything.

Glassy. Just Glassy.

I went home this weekend. Therefore, I was not at my apartment for two days.

Within this time, some idiot dropped a bottle of Martinelli's Sparkling Cider directly in front of my door. It shattered, like dropped glass often does, and he just left it. (I say "he" not because of the propensity for men to be clumsy slobs, but because most of the people on my floor are guys) By the time I saw it all the liquid had evaporated, an impressive feat given that our current temp is 21 degrees. Anyway. There was just a buttload of thick, green, shattered glass sitting in front my door the entire weekend. And no one bothered to clean it up.

Until I did.

I picked up the big pieces AND recycled them, and then I went to talk to my R.A. about a dustpan and broom. He told me not to worry about it, he'd get the officials to clean it up.


Yesterday morning someone was out there sweeping... it must have been an official's job cuz there's still green glass out there, glued to the cement with sticky apple cider residue. Another official job well done. Yeesh. Disclaimer: DO NOT GO BAREFOOT IN MY BEDROOM. GLASS SHARDS IN YOUR FEET PROBABLE.

Anyway. That's not my only glass incident. Last night I was closing my window, when the adjacent window (broken, not by me) attacked me! All I did was lean up against it when its naked frame bit me! I was left with what I thought was a little gash... I watched the blood flow slowly down my wrist... the blood wasn't warm. You know how everybody talks about warm, sticky blood flowing out of their wound? I've decided that that proverbial wound must be huge to keep the blood warm enough. But I digress.

I thought it was a gash. But as I started playing with it (because I'm masochistic and macabre and morbid (and alliterative)) I realized that there was something inside it. I squeezed it (like popping a pimple) and a shard of glass half emerged from my thumb.

My poor roommate. I made her grab her tweezers and pull it out -- after which the blood really started to flow, but I couldn't tell whether or not it was warm, she'd turned on the cold water and made me wash it.

Turns out that water+blood+wrist shaking=cool designs and patterns in the sink.

My RA was studying with my other roommate the entire time and stupidly asked me while I was bleeding through my second bandaid, "Oh by the way, did they ever fix your window?"

Uh, NO. They didn't. Thanks for caring.

But now I'm worried about tetanus, because that window frame was both rusty and had flaking lead paint.

I'm so glad I pay so much to live in substandard housing.
If I get sick can I sue the school and get them to pay for housing for the next three years? Maybe I won't go get a tetanus booster, because that'd be great!