Life is Busting out ALL Over!

Archive for March 2007

I am drowning in my own thoughts and I’m so sick of myself I could scream.

Now that I’ve gotten into one grad school I’m reluctant to do any other applications. It’s not a bad school. It’s in Chicago, it was my second choice. I wouldn’t settle. I am waitlisted at my top choice and I’m so disappointed that I don’t want to risk it again. But it’s due Sunday and I told myself I would, so I will. I do want options.

I’m frightened beyond belief I can’t go full time and afford it. I know it will all work out but I want to know HOW. Most bothersome is my dad wants to know HOW and I want to tell him so he’ll quit asking me.

I officially hate my job. I’m sure all small companies aren’t bad but one that is run by a scatterbrained artist are definitely not for me. I’ve hated it for awhile but I’ve resisted saying so because it makes it real.

Hating my job makes me want a new job but I’m not going to start a new job because I’m going to school in 3 months. And then I find one I really like, and I question everything all over again. I’m not going to deter though.

But since my boss and my boss’ boss left and I’m doing ALL the work, it’s been so intense I can’t think straight.

I’ve noticed that I’ve been completely reactive to my life. I used to be pro-active. Now I wait until things draw me into action, bills, friends, etc. This is not me.

I also tend to be a bit of a regretter – if that is a word, which spell check is telling me it’s not, deal – I keep wishing I could go back to 2004 when I was safe and I could stop myself from making the career choices I did. That sucks too.

And I got into an accident last week – my fault – no damage to me but some paint rubbed off of JERKFACE’s bumper. Who I wanted to calmly settle this claim but now he’s raised his damages to $500 more than his repair shop quoted. Sorry buddy, you can deal with my insurance now.

R’s been great – he knows I’m in a funk but isn’t pushing me. Although his joke telling rises during this time, which is nice until he reaches into his bad jokes.

All I know is that I want to get in my car and drive far away from here. That’s not fair, to me, to R, to my friends and my family.

So I’ve made an appointment with a therapist to get through some of this stuff. I’m sick of letting the fear win. It’s not going to win this time.


No, not that big day.

But Friday, 5pmish – My alma mater vs. R’s one of the colleges where he played lacrosse and went to school/favorite team ever showdown.

March Madness is here.

And this is what we’ve been waiting for. R and I. For our schools to play each other. Football was never going to happen… although R says in the 2011-12 season we’ve got an agreement. And it will be our embarrassment. P’shaw. Basketball is where I wanted it to go down. (preferably with the 2005 team)

5:19pm tonight – Phone call from R:
Me: What? Um, ok (I’d been working and had the TV off)
R: University of you versus Me Tech University. 5pm. Friday. No 5 vs No 12 in Columbus!
Me: Oh, Cool!! YES!
R: You guys are No 12
Me: Oh.

Except, we suck this year – in relative terms to greatness. We’re the Number 12 seed, he’s the Number 5.

I wanted to dominate, and destroy and politely smile and say “Oh, well they are really good and had a great season.” To R. About his team.

For now I hold my breath and just wait.

My friends are all lined up for it. This was the following text exchange:

5:20pm tonight
Friend S: So Friday is going to be a big day for you and R!
Me: I know! He called to tell me and gloat.
Friend S: I hope this doesn’t ruin your relationship
Me: It won’t on his end. The Hokies are dead to me.

He’ll be out of town in nowhere, IL so maybe I can lie and tell him we win (which we WILL – a No 12 ALWAYS upsets a No 5) until he gets further information.

I stopped by my favorite supermercado when I got off the train tonight (there are at least 5 within a block radius of the Metra stop so saying it’s my favorite means something).

I got some cat food and was looking for bubble bath, which they didn’t have, when I passed a small boy – say 4 years old – with his dad or uncle or godfather or someone. They were browsing the pop aisle:

Boy: “But I don’t wannnt the dark kind! I want light.”

Man: “Sorry, Malik, we’re not getting the light kind tonight.” He picks up an RC 2-liter.

Mailk: “No. I can’t drink the dark ones, I only drink the light ones! Mama says the dark kinds ruin my diiii-et!!”

Man: “Sorry Malik.”

I totally cracked up, which displaced my disappointment for the store not carrying any bubble bath (I mean, not even Calgon? Please.)

Then they got in the line in front of me and the man got a small bottle of rum. Sorry Malik is right.

Poor little guy.

And no Lolla for me this year. Screw you Pearl Jam!

I got the email for the $60 secret sale for Lollapalooza. I’m in the waiting room queue along with half of Chicago and half of Rolling Stones subscribers, I’m sure.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE let me get in.

Also, R is taking a group of kids to Appaliachian Service Project this summer and is getting back in early August. I’ve put a phone call into him to see if he wants me to get tickets. If you could do anything to allow him to go or get stoked about going even after spending 3 smelly weeks in somewhere, TN or KY in the outdoors, that would be awesome. I would be eternally grateful. None of my friends are really into music, or enough to want to spend 3 days at a concert and I’d have to prepare CDs of the line up in advance, and I don’t want to do that. You see where I’m going with this?

And I won’t complain about the heat that weekend. More than once. A day.


I don’t know if it has been turning 29 or what but I simply am run down when it comes to Thursday nights. About 3pm hits and I’m done for the week. Which sucks for my workflow because that’s right about at the crescendo. Oy.

I’m pretty sure I know why:
1. 12:30 seems to be about my bedtime all the time.
2. Fucking Indiana and their ice storms and the 7 hours it took me to get home on Saturday driving 30 miles an hour, driving into a ditch (true story!), gunning poor Apple (my car, hey if Gwenyth can do it?) and getting out of the ditch on to 65. R said I passed the F out when my head hit the pillow and I took 2 naps on Sunday. Dear Jasper County, you suck.
3. I’m playing Utility at work. One thing on top of another for EVERYONE
4. My volunteer work, which I love, but am constantly behind with deadlines.
5. Grad School thoughts
6. The fact I stopped working out 2 years ago. Running 5 miles 4x a week to nothing, I imagine, will turn the body into sloth – no, it does turn you into sloth. 30 more pounds of it.
7. My sister called me to tell me she almost had sex this weekend – she’s never done that and by her age, she’s in the 1% percentile. Apparently they almost did, everything but. EW. My sister and I don’t have these conversations. We are grew up close but really, really competitive/jealous/”let me have my OWN”. Our relationship is changing and good lord, we are so different, it had to at some point. But still. I told R about it and he was like “I don’t want to hear about my sister almost having sex and I don’t want to hear about yours either.” Well said.
8. Thinking
9. Wondering
10. Thinking

I need to turn my brain off. I used to have the answer for that: alcohol. But I’m over that part of my life and don’t care to go out anymore.

I think I’m going to start to be more honest here. No one reads this, NO ONE that knows me knows I have this. If I can process some of this stuff maybe I’ll be able to take a load off.

Not tonight though, tonight I’m going to bed.

to grad school. Well at least one grad school. My formerly first choice grad school. The only one in Chicago.

My essays feel validated. At least I’m definitely going to school next year – even though they are a little too detached for me.

I also went to an interview weekend last weekend at another grad school and fell in love with the program. I interviewed for 8 grad assistantships and the director for my favorite one emailed ME on Monday to tell me she loved meeting me and that she hoped I was considering (boring) university!!! Holy Crap.


So am I, but it’s great!


musings and panic attacks of a Chicago girl embarking on a new life in Texas. Only it's not always June and it's not in song.

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