Sexting, field-trip fun and ghosties.

So, you ever have a really good sext-athon?

Yeah, it's been one of those nights.

And somebody has got to take my phone away from me, because honestly, it is not a safe place for it to be. I am pretty much willingly setting myself up to be crushed. Again. By the same person. Awesome.

First off, I admit to knowingly starting the conversation - but I take no responsibility to where it has gone. Well, I take some responsibility. Like halfish.

Okay. It's mainly my fault for nudging it in this direction.

But it's not my fault that my intentions got all distorted and sextish. I just wanted him to admit that I was not the only one affected by last spring. Things just went in the wrong direction is all. A very wrong, sexually promiscuous direction.

Up side? He did admit it. Albeit, in a slightly different manner than expected.

I think that sort of counts as a "win" in my book. That is, if I were keeping a winning/losing book. Thank gods I'm not, that beast would be heavy-handed in the lose column. And that would just be depressing, y'all.

In another vein, I'm almost done with the semester! Huzzah! One week, one day. That's it baby, then home sweet, pollen-infested home.

Also? Had an awesome two day field-trip for my Historical Geology class. It was filled with lots of rocks, minor woundings, awkward pool participants and, unbeknownst to us, a lot of haunted shit. Yeah, so not in the tour guide, people. All sorts of mental asylum deaths and suicides apparently occurred at the quarries we went to. Comforting. Really.

I just hope none of us brought home any paranormal hitchhikers, y'all, because I do not need that during finals.

You hear me ghosties? Not right now. Just check back in a week or so.

It's called courtesy.

Fall schedule, tons of crap and one month to go.

So earlier this week I decided on my schedule for this up-coming fall. Huzzah. It'll be a full 15-credits of pure delightful anthropology. Be jealous, people. I know you are.

(Schedule as follows for anyone who cares... mwf The Aztecs 9.30-10.20, The Paleolithic Age 10.30-11.20, North American Archaeology 11.30-12.20, Intro to Physical Anthropology 12.30-1.20 & American Indian Ethnography online - finally, a reason to be online that's legitimate.)

I also realized that I have just days over one month to pack and get my ass out this apartment for the summer. I have a lot of stuff. I mean a lot lot of stuff. Probably more than one apartment should have. I'm practically a fire hazard, y'all.

I am going to perish violently packing all of this stuff by myself. That might possibly be an overreaction.

Maybe.

Then again, there is a lot of stuff.

Some of this crap is coming home with me for the summer, but a ton of it is going to be put into storage. I'm telling you this so you can lighten my load, people. - But not really. Leave my crap alone. Jeez, you're all a bunch of thieves.

If this stuff was worth anything at all, it'd probably make your time worth while to try to ransack. But it's all pretty much cheap stuff that I got at garage sales. Because I'm eco-friendly. And modestly poor. I'm in college, stop judging me.

One month to go. For real, people. I'm both hyperventilating and doing the snoopy dance. I'm pretty sure that's not healthy, but I'm not a doctor.

I remember when the end of the school year meant that it was the dawning of the coolest part of the year. But now it's just a stressful situation that involves a lot of last minute papers, final exams and finding summer work. Where did the fun go, universe? I think we got jipped, y'all.

So screw the limited-fun-of-summer thing. I plan to lounge outside in the sun (with sunblock, I burn like there's no tomorrow people) like a goddamn cat as much as possible this summer.

I will also probably hit up a bunch more garage sales too (because I have a problem staying away from them).

So look out next semester - me and my cheap crap are coming to get you!

Parents, homesickness and suffocating love.

Home sweet home.

Right.

Well, I've made it home for the big superficially 'religious' Easter celebrations (i.e. a four day weekend woo!). I thought it'd at least take years, if ever, to get over the homesickness when I'm away. But you know what? I now feel claustrophobic at home. I know they don't mean to suffocate me, but parents are just always there when you're home.

They're like that piece of furniture that you're almost certain you had put outside to be picked up by the garbage man (even if they keep telling you the city doesn't take old furniture). Somehow, it's crept back into your living room with all the audacity of a tacky orange ottoman.

Not that you hate that ottoman. In fact, that particular ottoman reminds you of all your good childhood moments, and makes you feel safe and protected. But it really doesn't match anything you own anymore, and it can be such an eyesore - the way it looks in the big picture just doesn't suit your everyday needs anymore.

But maybe you could keep it around; revamp it with a new fabric - help it try to fit in, even if the style is so out of date that it's practically obsolete.

Yeah, it's sort of nice to have it around - I mean, it keeps you grounded. And that's a feeling that can be easily lost in a world where you're just another fresh (haggard) faced student in a sea of forty other similar faces. Sometimes you just need that old ottoman to remind you of your roots - and to remind you of just how far you've really come.

Suffocation doesn't sound so bad, not when you know it's suffocation by love.

Growing up, growing apart, and one best friend.

So this is going to be a sappy / depressing / disparaging post - and yes I know, it's terribly uncool - but I've never really been that concerned about it, so deal with it.

Well, I've come to realize that my (previous? ex? once?) best friend has sort of given up on me, or on us. Years of mocking other people, taking masses of ridiculously staged photographs and eating tons of junk food just couldn't save us from growing up and growing apart it seems. It's been this way for several months when I come to think of it, but at least several months ago we were still talking. Honestly, it's pretty ill-timed, since college is supposed to be the most awesome time of your life - or not, whatever.

Heck, I love my college - and I love what I'm going here for - but what good is all that when my once-upon-a-time best friend wants nothing to really do with me? Sure sure, I could just go and pick out a new one - maybe a slightly flashier one, with less mileage and a wicked wardrobe to borrow from. That'd be the easy way out of this situation. However, it's come to my attention that I'm not the easiest person to get along with. And she sort of accepted all the dramatic flaws and insensible opinions with little, if any, complaint. That's pretty hard to come by, I'd say.

I had tried to persuade her to leave our small-town-roots for awhile, to come see what the slightly-less-small-town life was like. To no avail, of course. She couldn't possibly leave her boyfriend or family (despite how infrequently they see each other, due to schedule conflicts) to move in with me and enjoy our last years of young-adulthood before we have to become real grown-ups. Of course not. How selfish I was, to think of pulling her away from a monotonous job (that she's never cared for) and a mainly-weekend schedule of seeing her boyfriend (even though they live together).

It was complete madness on my part. I see that now. Because, honestly, after expressing my explicit desire of having her here - things fell apart.

Blame me or expunge me, I'm still minus one dearly sarcastic best friend.

Lucky escapes, therapeutic-creeping and fat-free basking.

Holy crap. I just realized how glad I am that all those could-have-been relationship possibilities did not work out.

Seriously, I don't think I've ever realized how lucky I am that those did not work out. I came to this glorious realization while perusing those specifically-left-unnamed-persons' Facebook pages. And wow. They're complete morons. I really think I might have some mismanaged poor-taste-in-potential-choices issues. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. It appears I wasn't. Thank the gods that those potentialities either fizzled or migrated away. Because I'd be screwed in an uncomfortable way if they'd actually taken root, and had ended up fostering grossly ignorant illegitimate stupid infant attachment seedlings.

Even thinking of it makes me shudder. I was like this close (on several occasions) to being one half of an ugly (hairy, cancerous, 3-dimensional) mole on the face of global coupledom. For real, people.

I don't think I've ever realized just how reprehensible most of the guys my age are. I mean, honestly, what the hell guys? And wow, I really really don't know how to pick them. Or I do. If by "pick them" I refer to choosing the most dishonest, slovenly, two-faced future-alcoholics known to humankind. If I mean that, then damn, I'm good. Be jealous, y'all.

I think I cherish my singlehood much more now. And I think everyone should put aside their actual responsibilities for an hour once in awhile, and engage in a session of therapeutic-creeping. It is most definitely worth it.

Seriously, just look up those snotty bitches you hated in school/at work/etc, or those losers who dumped you - and just bask in how absolutely moronic they are. It will lift your spirits like no better-than-sex-cake ever has. And this way you won't gain an ounce.

You're welcome.

Relationships are really just ridiculous if you think about it. I mean, we all spend the first what - two months? - trying to be exactly what that special-somebody is looking for. Then we get comfortable and just give up trying at all. Awesome. What guy doesn't love his now hairy-legged girlfriend who no longer feels compelled to dress to impress? Or what girl doesn't want to be with her now paunch-stomached boyfriend who no long feels inhibited to hide his bodily functions in front of her?

Fairytale romance, y'all.

Projects, skull pants and academic hell.

Well, well. Life seems to have caught up to me and stolen all of my time recently. Life is a bitch; a thieving, conniving one at that.

So, I was being such a purposeful grown-up today. I totally went all the way to campus and talked to my group member about our project. Like for real real. I put effort into questions and even decided to retake a test that I did horrendously on from weeks ago from another class. To add even more gold stars to my fabulously school-heavy day (on a day when I have no school normally!), I even went to the library to get articles printed off that I didn't even need yet.

I'm pretty sure a small planet just exploded somewhere in the solar system.

However, now I'm sitting around in purple pj pants (with freaking awesome skull details), surfing the internet and avoiding studying for a test... that is tomorrow. Afternoon. Don't judge me, I've got time people.

School is hell right now though. I think Spring is the official time of demon activity, and people are just bullshitting us in the Fall. Honestly, the last few weeks of the Spring semester suck royally, and not in the fun way either. It's like cram-cram-cram. Then guess what? Pass out, wake up and do it all again. And again. And again. The never-ending circle of academic sadism.

Tie me up and spank me with a textbook, universe.

There are a lot of sexual innuendos in this post - I think I like it. Rough.