death by garbage

Yesterday I was wasting time between classes by enjoying a tasty salted nut roll. Upon finishing said nut roll, I paused to throw away the wrapper in the nearest trash can where I discovered a dead bird. I was sad to see the make-shift grave that this bird had ended up in. It was sharing it's resting place with old newspapers, chewed gum, and of course, my candy wrapper.

I understand that the University of Minnesota custodial staff doesn't have the time to line a shoe box with crumpled paper and carefully nestle the remains of the bird in the homemade coffin. They also don't have time to dig a hole in their back yard, bury the coffin, and make a head stone out of over-sized popsicle sticks. But I do wish that it wouldn't have met it's final resting place in a fucking trash can.

today is my day... or something

Well. It's here. Woopdi fucking doo.

My mother thinks I'm becoming too cynical for only having 20 years under my belt. I think that in order to survive a day in the life of a 21 century teenager, you have to be.

All of my parents ("all" meaning the evil step parents as well) celebrated kitty day last night at Cafe Maude. Dinner conversation was composed of my father yelling about how he's sick of people bashing America and my mother expressing her need to flee the country. Brent and I sat and stared and occasionally shared a knowing glance. This is usually how things go when all of the parents get together. It sounds worse than it actually is. It's pretty damn entertaining. Most of the time, I'm internally scoffing, but in a loving way. So, after chocolate pistachio torte, scone bread pudding and some coffee, we all went our separate ways: Mom and Brent to the highway, Dad and Angie to their menagerie, and I begrudgingly to my hobbit hole to study evolution. Which turned into Sarah and I studying for roughly an hour and then delighting in birthday "celebrations" and dancing frantically to Led Zepplin for about 15 minutes until I was winded and needed a glass of water.

I really am getting old.

MY BIRTHDAY!!!

Okay, so this picture has nothing to do with what I'm going to say, so let's just get this out of the way: this is Amy and Nathan's cat, Sailor. She's amazing.

Okay, now, the real deal. My birthday is on TUESDAY! YAY! The only problem being that I have a midterm on my birthday, class until 10pm on the 26th, a paper due the next day, and a quiz the next day. So. That pretty much cuts out any fun I could have at all. Hm. Great. Why sweet mother of god why?! Not to be selfish, but isn't my birthday supposed to be ALL ABOUT ME and not all about SCHOOL!? Oh boo...

Therefore, my birthday plans include: studying, more studying, paper-writing, and wallowing.

Any suggestions on how to beat the homework laden birthday blues?

The Beginning of the End... yes I am that cliche

There it is.

There it isn't.

A temporary diversion from the monotony of a school night. School night, my god. The only thing you can hear, smell, taste, touch, etc. is tick fucking tock. So much to do, no care to do it. I find that though the hiccups in my day can be deleterious they are as necessary as antibodies. Fighting off stagnation.

It's inherent. Even if short-lived, it's utterly impossible to stay focused. As if that's a good thing in the first place. I find myself constantly digressing. However, it is these moments that I thrive on: when every plan changes - intentionally or not. I think I get this from my mother... that crazy woman that I love so much. She is the queen of changing plans. I feel as though it's the only way to live, otherwise one will always be disappointed when things inevitably shift.

So, go to Perkins, eat a breakfast scrambler (ps the commercial totally enticed me...) and don't feel guilty that you're not doing what you're supposed to do. The gravy will cure all. After all, it's all about the sauce.