This wagon had better be comfortable

So….I’ve decided to take a little “break” from my drink-a-linkin. It may do me some good. That isn’t to say that this last weekend was absolutely amazing, but because of its awesomeness, I think it’s a good one to end on. Who knows till when? A few weeks, a month. I want to make it a goal to quit it until graduation. The reasons why:

I am dead broke. I can’t afford it!

I need to get healthier

I’m tired of hangovers.

I’ll actually be willing and wanting to ride my bike home at night.

I’ll have more energy.

I’ll be able to hang out and make fun of everyone else who is drunk.

I’ll be a cheaper bar date within the month! Ha!

Wish me luck!

Drunk Confession

Drunk drunk drunk

Joose is fun.

Cha Cha has all the answers. Seriously, text any question to ChaCha and you will get an answer. And watch Darkon.

Bro Bingo is fun.

I love Tyler. Very much. He’s amazing.

I love laughing with my friends.

I love it when it snows or rains when there is no wind.

I love to smile.

I love to see my friends and my love smile.

I love knowing Tolkien’s influence on the world.

I love grammar.

I want to be able to do a back bend.

I miss Charlotte.

I miss Riley.

Black elves are badass.

I love doing secret mission car chases for my job.

I love my new brunette hair.

My favorite name is Jane.

I love Tyler’s eyes.

I love my house and take pride in it.

Family is important, and even when they get on my nerves, I love them still. Even my sister when she’s difficult. I just want her to be safe and healthy and happy. I hope that happens for her someday.

I hope my dad will someday accept my new religious beliefs and love me all the same.

Sometimes I feel I am a new soul and need to really make an impression with that new soul.

I love gangster rap. I love to dance to gangster rap, and truly suck at it.

I love thick socks.

I hate squash and sweet potatoes.

Ann has been my favorite roommate.

I have held the top score at Buck Hunter, even though no one believes me.

Sword fights with forks is the weirdest thing I may have ever seen.

Real men know how to change tires.

Real women can hold their jooose.

WHITE! YELLOW! YELLOW! BLACK!

My favorite color is green. Tyler’s favorite color is brown. Tyler is colorblind.

I hate it when my skin peels after a sunburn.

I hate chicks with fake tans. Leatherface? Trainwrecks? Poor thing.

I like to freestyle when I’m too drunk to do so. I rhyme like a two year old. The sun is fun and I like to run. I probably shouldn’t freestyle.

I hate my bock bock.

I am afraid of the dark.

I am not afraid of snakes or moths.

I miss New York. I miss Greenwich Village.

I am very nostalgic, but I love thinking about the future.

I love my bike. I want to ride it more.

I am a seasonal bike rider and have no shame.

I hope I make a good teacher.

Again, I love joose.

Drunk Drunk Drunk.

The end.

Lord of the Rings: Eat Your Heart Out

And on the third day her tears subsided and although Kate was crying on the inside, she got out of bed, took a shower, and took on the day.

Seriously though, today has been the better of my last 6 days, so I need to give it a little recognition. Thank you, Wednesday, for being less shitty than the last two! No one went to the hospital, no computers crashed, no one got in a fight–I was starting to lose faith in Wednesdays.

So, I have a little “qualm” to pick with the members of my Tolkien class. Now, you need to understand, this isn’t your ordinary class. First off, who woulda thunk I’d be able to study one book about wizards and fairies for the whole semester? Now, add to that equation, youtubes of Lord of the Rings Spoofs, Class-long discussions of art and society in America, and questions of homosexuality between Sam and Frodo? Welcome to my J.R.R. Tolkien class. I should have expected it, and it scared the shit out of me on the first day, considering the book was 1000 pages long. But I have to say, it’s actually pretty cool and so are the people in it. I find myself snickering at their inside jokes about Gollum, making snide comments about Frodo, and arguing about the mapping of Middle Earth. I sometimes try to repeat these jokes and comments to my friends and they stare and sigh and realize I’ve joined the land of Live Action Role Playing and World of Warcraft. Seriously though, I can’t help it. They’re all pretty cool cats. Here’s where I draw the line: Don’t start talking about the unrealistic nature of Middle Earth’s mountains based on the fact that tectonic plates couldn’t have formed them. I mean, there comes a point when you’re going a little too far and need to tone it down a bit. It’s a book of FICTION. The End.

And that’s my rant on the land of Mordor and the anxious readers that have formed the future scientists and engineers of our country. As for me, I’m still going to be a high school teacher teaching English. Although now, I will probably slip in a Tolkien reference or two at some point, but don’t hold me to that.

I do think it would be rad to speak Elvish, only because you could talk all the smack you wanted about someone right in front of them and there would be only 20 other people on the planet who would be able to translate. So there you are standing next to a fine gentleman in his popped collar and spikey blonde hair, taking jager bombs, snickering at you and your dorkiness, and all you’re doing is telling him that he smells bad, needs to stop tanning, and has an unzipped fly. Oh, and that jager bombs don’t make you a tough ass.

J.R.R. Tolkien, Eat your heart out.

Mourning: Day Two

I went to visit Charlotte yesterday. To say goodbye. Tyler went with me. It was the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with in a long, long, time. Seeing her there looking up at you with her big green eyes, and watching her stomach twitch to the beat of an old pocket watch, picturing the parts inside her all quivering in an unhealthy tick, yet that pain wasn’t reflected in her eyes. All that was reflecting was my face, and it sent me into a brief montage of flashbacks of her when she was three weeks old and was found downtown, and I was able to save her by giving her a home. Soon, I found that somehow there was a soul behind the eyes of this cat, and you may think I’m crazy, but I swear there were moments in her life in which she knew what I was talking about, or understood my moments of melancholy.

Nonetheless, she’s dead now, and there’s nothing I can do about it but think about these times and be angry at whatever higher power there is for taking her from me. She only had two and a half good years and then it was all gone. She was my companion. And not in the crazy cat lady sort of way who has five cats and doesn’t talk to people, and lives vicariously through her relationships with animals. No, I love people, but Charlotte was always there when I got home, and I was responsible for her, for this life I had saved. She’s dead now. There’s no denying it but it still hasn’t hit me. I can’t imagine what death can be like for so many. I have dealt with human death, and it is so very tragic, but a pet’s death seems different. This pet’s life is in your hands, and it is your decision to end it based on the opinions of doctors. They don’t have a say. And it breaks my heart.

So, day two of mourning, less tears but more depression: that heaviness resting on your chest and unwillingness to accept any hint of motivation. I’ve been here before, but there’s no solving it with this one, because she’s not coming back. I hate it, and I wish time moved faster.

That’s my depressing blog of the day.