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Wow. I really suck at keeping a journal....
So, it's been damn near a month since I wrote last. I have a really hard time with keeping up with my life. I always have. To update: Brad is no longer living at our house, which is nice; I recently had a birthday, and Patrick was impressivly attentive, also nice; school is going well and, for the most part, I am enjoying it. That's really about it. Right now I am sitting at my computer, looking out my open, dark window imagining someone looking back at me. It is really creepy, and I should close the blinds. I've also had about four glasses of wine and two margaritas. My Mom and Step-dad are visiting. I am currently hooked on this HBO show, True Blood. It is really cheesy. And, you never realize how much sex there is in a show until you watch it with your parents......
Patrick is in Knoxville for a football game. I plan to spend the weekend catching up on school work and working on a story. Because, supposedly, I am a writer.... At least in theory.
Mostly, I am happy but I miss my friends and I miss the life I had before, eventhough for the most part I was not happy when I was living it. I think I am just feeling lonley. Proabley becuase of the wine.
My brother and sister visited last weekend. Doug spent Saturday night with us, and my sister's kid, Tate, spent the night as well. It was really a good time. I like hanging out with my nephew. He is eight, but does not act like a kid at all. He is funny and quirky and very intelligent. He is the only kid I know that makes me think I may someday want to have a kid, too. But only if he was like Tate.
Gertrude is doing well, although she scratched the shit out of me earlier today. It was so bad, for the first half hour I really thought I was going to have to get stitches. The thing about the cat though, is that she will climb into my lap and lay there as if my lap were not mine, but hers, as if the part of me between knees and bellybutton has nothing at all to do with me but exists only as a place for her to curl into herself, feet between her front paws.
I think I am officially drunk now, so I must go to bed. I will try to not be so wayward in my journaling.
Patrick is in Knoxville for a football game. I plan to spend the weekend catching up on school work and working on a story. Because, supposedly, I am a writer.... At least in theory.
Mostly, I am happy but I miss my friends and I miss the life I had before, eventhough for the most part I was not happy when I was living it. I think I am just feeling lonley. Proabley becuase of the wine.
My brother and sister visited last weekend. Doug spent Saturday night with us, and my sister's kid, Tate, spent the night as well. It was really a good time. I like hanging out with my nephew. He is eight, but does not act like a kid at all. He is funny and quirky and very intelligent. He is the only kid I know that makes me think I may someday want to have a kid, too. But only if he was like Tate.
Gertrude is doing well, although she scratched the shit out of me earlier today. It was so bad, for the first half hour I really thought I was going to have to get stitches. The thing about the cat though, is that she will climb into my lap and lay there as if my lap were not mine, but hers, as if the part of me between knees and bellybutton has nothing at all to do with me but exists only as a place for her to curl into herself, feet between her front paws.
I think I am officially drunk now, so I must go to bed. I will try to not be so wayward in my journaling.
you should appreciate the draft i just put in my journal....