(warning: particularly old content) I don't ask for it to make sense 
Short words: Brandon and I must go dancing more often. To Bhangra again, or whatever. The fun.
Concert week continued today with Air at the Paramount. Nice band, but not really worth the money we paid out our noses to see them. But anyway, in fine Jen form, it's 2 am and I need to be at school by 8:30, so I'm to bed.
Sigh; you play with fire and you get burned... likewise, you play with eggs, you get food poisoning. I'm not sure why I continue to insist on reckless consumption of raw cookie dough, really, considering that I'm in general an intelligent person. Eating it that day or the next is fine, but I well know that eating it three days later after a power outage is idiotic, and I still ate it. Because I'm a retard. I'd write more, but sadly, I'm still paying the price for my misdeeds. I don't know how I'm going to go to Japanese tomorrow. I've felt wretched for the last two hours, and continue to feel... well, let's leave it at "just as bad."
Oh my fuckgod it's 4 am. Lars is doing okay and my eyes are bleeding perl. I MUST go now. To bed, I mean.
Initially good night tonight, with a kickass Kraftwerk concert under my belt. I would have preferred GA tickets, though; being stuck in a seat during an electronica show is about a million times more annoying than being stuck in a seat at a show where the performers, you know, move. Saw Damien/Beth/Brandon/Andrew on the way out, which was extra bonus, and had a lovely time seeing Rob and joking around with Tom, as I always do. And I was going to say a lot more about it.
But.
But then we got home a little after midnight, and Lars, who had been limping funny on Saturday and had seemed okay if somewhat lethargic on Sunday, was definitely not okay. Now, note that I love both my cats, but if one was my baby, it's Lars. I had just known that he wasn't quite right the couple days, but we hadn't been able to put our finger on what it was - it wasn't quite a limp, and he wasn't hollering specifically when we poked at him. But tonight, he was walking distinctly lopsided, tired and in obvious pain, and refused to lie on his left side. I'd been leaning towards taking him to the vet from the moment that I'd walked into my room and he'd been squalling in pain, a back claw caught in the upholstery of my chair and his body twisted in the midst of having tried to get up, but the deciding moment was when I tried to pick him up and my sweet sweet kitty, who meows for food and to talk to you randomly but just about never to truly complain, cried out hoarsely and tried to struggle out of my hands.
And so it was off to the 24-hour emergency vet for the second time in a month (Liam's tail sometime recently). Several hours, some xrays, and a partially shaved Lars later, there's thankfully no broken bones or organ damage, but there are three strange puncture wounds and some major infection inflammation and fever going on. We still don't know what exactly happened; two of the punctures are arranged such that they could be a bite, but the lone third is so far away that the entire arrangement is just completely strange. He gets to be on antibiotics and a no-outside regimen for the next day/two days (not that the no-outside thing should be much of a problem for The Lazy One), but if the swelling doesn't go down, he's going to have to go in for surgery (covering face). I'm very very thankful he got to come home with us tonight, all loopy-eyed from his pain medication, but I doubt I'm going to be very calm until we're sure he doesn't have to go get cut open to let an abcess drain. Why couldn't it be Liam who got some sort of crazy mystery wound? He's a much healthier cat and I'd feel better about him pulling through something like this with flying colors. Lars is just so fat and out of shape that I worry. Of course, on the other hand, he'll have the recuperation thing down.
Thank god, I'm not poor anymore. It took a herkin' big tax refund to make it so, but hey, money is money. I haven't been worth so little as I was the last week since... perhaps since I started college. It was beyond disconcerting. Beyond giving me a kick in the ass to pay more attention to my money, however, the whole extended situation is solidifying my desire to change banks even quicker. Funny that I should have just been reading that introvert book I borrowed from Craig, however. The extended web of things that I should pay attention to when selecting a new bank and new credit card issuer is so overwhelming that it makes me want to just give up... exactly the stereotypical introvert response. Hah.
Curse being tired. I was upset beyond hysterics yesterday and close to tears several times today, but I've got no energy now to discuss it. The quick story: I caught Jim smoking (only the third time he ever has, to be fair), and freaked the fuck out. Still not very happy about it. An indepth analysis of my personal (and retarded) emotional issues with the idea of him smoking will have to wait until another time.
Amusing juxtaposition: yesterday, I didn't write anything because I was so cranky when I came home that I couldn't bear the idea of doing anything beyond the homework that as immediately keeping me from going to bed, whereas tonight I'm so soothed from watching TV that I'm again wanting to just head to bed without writing. Well, that and the fact that Lars keeps jumping in front on my monitor, reducing desire to keep putting up with his shit.
Blah. Really, I don't quite know what's come over me lately. I've got plenty of invective about meeting Scott Gearin last night, plenty of insecurities about the latest cousin of Jim's I've met... but no desire, at these moments when I'm in front of a computer, to talk about any of it at all. Sure, I wanted to talk about it on the bus this morning, and while I was in class this afternoon, but perhaps that's the result of not having anything else to do at those times? I don't know... for right now, I hear the siren song of taking a shower and doing my TC reading, and for once not having a rushed and horrid Wednesday night.
I wrote back to Jon but not to John today. It's really not very fair, considering that John wrote me first, but then again, he was higher in my inbox and so got overlooked. I guess being in a bizarre timezone has advantages... uh... if you're really wanting to get mail in a reasonable time from Jen. Anyway, I'm going to go to bed at a reasonable hour on a Monday night, Jan's homework (sniffle) be hanged. I shall finish it sometime tomorrow.
I'll tell you true, being up until 4 am doing stat homework is not only sad, but quite silly, considering that at least twice it turned out that I was doing about a million times more than the question asked for. Sigh. Also not good is suddenly getting it in my head to check the schedule, and whoops, look at that, the test is tomorrow!
Hooray.
On three hours of sleep and three hours away from having been awake for 24 hours, I can say no more about my day beyond that I am incredibly saddened (as if I weren't already, sigh) by the news that Outlook will no longer have its foosball table after the building move this weekend. It's a goddamn crying shame.
(giggling) A quote I shall leave unattributed: "So many friends, so little time. But so much Jesus." The Christians, they kill me!
And holy BEJEEZUS, I just now noticed I hadn't rotated since Febuary. WTF.
Fucking moodiness, I can't goddamn win! I'm in a decent mood for twenty minutes and then I'm back in fucking depression land for the next three hours (and I think I need to pay attention to this cycle, because I think it's actually sensible by time of day). Obviously, it's time to start the hard drugs. Like... uh... sleep.
Swinging back towards the grumpy. Tomorrow better be a damn good day or I'm likely screwed... and Tuesdays are nearly always awful.
Bleh: bills paid and fatty refund coming, but not a whole lot else done. Like, none of that shit I had to get done. Sigh.
I've been in a good mood today for the longest stretch of time since this horrible bout of depression started a week or two ago. I'm still feeling a little too overwhelmed to be able to write much, but things just go that way sometimes. Loren and Kelly are in town, which is definitely helping the mood, and getting trashed last night like I'd been wanting to certainly improved things. I'm crossing my fingers.
Oh, and we went to see Dawn of the Dead tonight. Excellent, excellent zombie flick. Certain parts will 99% likely give me nightmares tonight (the other 1% is that I won't hit REM sleep at all, heh).
Not a horrible day today, emotionally speaking, so I guess I'll take that. But be damned if I'm making it last any longer. Blah.
I feel so unlike doing anything, anything at all.
I'm rather hoping that this rather annoying stretch of not even being able to muster "I'm tired" entries will be somewhat ameliorated by the fact that I finally got my computer up in my room in the last couple days. We'll see, of course, but a girl can hope. And now... off to NOt miss the bus today...
We are here to protect you from the terrible secrets of space. Or the prank version, if that's your cup of tea. And as long as I'm being linkish, I offer Installing Linux on a Dead Badger for the geeky that may have, like me, been utterly cut off from the slash and the dot lately.
I had the craziness today. The craziness is hard to explain, other than I get spacy, feel as if electricity is running frenetically down my arms and out my fingers, feel horribly depressed, and have trouble forming coherent sentences. I'm sure it's some bizarre chemical imbalance that causes it, and from a self-preservation point of view, rather wish that it had an early-warning system so that I could relieve myself of car keys. All I'm saying is that it was a good thing that traffic was light and my grip was steady when I was heading to Jason's tonight.
I'm tired of being depressed. Wouldn't it be so nice if being fed up with depression just made it go away?
Holy shit, I'm official. Officially not listed properly, but official nonetheless.
p(giggling) For our four-year anniversary, I went out to get some beers with Monika, Craig, Patrick, and Brian while Jim was at work, and then we went to see Hellboy with Seth and crew. Yep, romantic, that's us. Seriously, we're planning on heading out to the San Juans tomorrow, and Jim's promised to help clean up our room this weekend, so things are all good... and Hellboy wasn't half bad, either. Heh.
Postdate courtesy Sayuri-notes: 3/30/04:
Well, it'd be pretty hard to have a worse morning. Let's see: little sleep, missed the 71 by under a minute, missed the 65 by under a minute, cell batteries are dead, music batteries are dead, and I didn't have time to update reading content on Sayuri. Oh, and it's raining. Perfect.
Postdate courtesy Sayuri-notes: 3/31/04:
Horror! No adapted children's books for my kids for God's sake... I think the only reason I pull out this (cue "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA") massive intellect of mine is due to me having read early and deep. For shits with this abridged crap. Good thing my mom and me hoard books like gold.
Sitting in EdPsych 490 seems like an excellent place to write stuff, given that the likelihood that I'll need to listen to anything is vanishingly small. Unfortunately, my professor is being annoyingly amusing to listen to. I know all of the material he's covering, but it's still pretty entertaining to hear Prof. Klockars baby-talk statistics to social science students filled with fear, anyway.
I'm too depressed to write anything more, despite having had many interesting things pass through my head in the last couple days. Here's to moodiness subsiding as the month comes around and writing increasing now that my computer (well, Yoshiko; Chiyo is still out of commission) is up and usable.