i find jupiter's new curly-haired, middle-aged regular and his trendy crew of college nothings zero-degrees shy of obnoxious. also, the braves suck. remember 1991? that is all.

the kharma of my shadey character has caught up with me this week. all obligations have fallen through.

i hate it that listening track 16 and watching grey's anatomy once in forever brings it all back and leaves me flooded with feelings of anger and inadequacy. yet completely empty.

tuesday the 6th is faux-giving.

returning coke habits would make me feel like less of an insomniac. tonight i only seek comfort and dependency. but not chemical.

clara and whoever honestyboxed me ((yes, i acknowledge my complete losery for referencing facebook applications in my blog)), i started writing my book. maybe i should scratch everything and work on an english/journalism degree.

there is something about watching mike play that makes me feel jealous or envious. i haven't decided which. he refuses to give up on his musical dreams that i feel have already passed me by. although i've been handed almost every building block opportunity i could have asked for, i have ammounted to nothing more than an og waitress with non-aspiring dreams of greatness. i deserve this life i live, only barely motivated to change.

i think this weekend will determine a lot.

i met tonight's jupiter barista at the loophole 2 weeks ago. the night i ran into kayla.

it will be days at least before the sub-38 degree cold hits my lungs and reminds me of every time i stepped outside for 20 years. i can't wait to flood my memory though i'm sure it will be followed by feelings of distaste for my southern entrapment.

there is something about sitting outside a crowded coffee shop by myself at 3am that makes me emo. but decidedly so, i should have kept my earmuffs yesterday. although, i wouldn't have this problem at all if i'd have gotten my DC hat from him months ago. but alas, she is in town with him for the weekend. so i will proceed with dangerous levels of caution every time i step into public. if only jack bauer was for hire.

also, that is the first joke of the blog. be ashamed if you smiled earlier. i hate you.

my completely unfunded vacation from the mundane, ordinary and monotony of life is fast-approaching, and my need for it grows exponentially.

i waited on the band director for ryan high. he marched phantom regiment and roomed with ray vasquez long ago before he was dr. ray vasquez. also, he left me five on a sixty. fuck them both. that is all.

short interruptions from chico's broken english story of bar rumbles and unfaithful girlfriends was appreciated. he took great interest in my story. then red kicked him out. i said thank you, but didn't mean it. i enjoy conversing with strangers. everyone has a story. they should be shared. i wish i was here alone last night.

instead, i fell asleep during the first x-men for the pluralth time. but it is a good movie. entertaining with little cinematic merit. my sleep is non-movie-discriminatory. i promise.

also, i will create whatever words i damn well please. get over yourself.

goal for the month: pay shit early and have money left over so i seem less financially desperate when my mom comes.

i haven't decided if i should act completely on emotion or logic. this middle-ground is providing less utility than hoped.

why did the chicken cross the road? because he wanted to maximize his utility.

haha, i should reread naked economics and start a xmas list. it would consist of the needs that will make me happy. like work shoes from that one place in lewisville or highland village or whatever.

on my way back from taking my lactose-intolerant-but-had-alfredo-sauce-at-lunch-poop i was stopped by homeslice with a camera. he was a jeremy or a david. he said "well aren't you dressed like the cutest thing ever." he took three shots and gave me a pat on the head on his way out. i'm glad my bedhead was appreciated even post-hood-removal. matted bedhead. my new look. whatever. he said he would contact me via my blog but after reading this post, that is unlikely. i don't mind.

i also want a laptop.

your apology last night took me by surprise. maybe i was standoffish so you thought i needed it. but the way you brushed off my inquisition made me anxious for the rest of the night. but i know it didn't show.

reading a madman dreams of turing machines requires listening to 311's evolution for at least the first 100 pages.

after six near-miss auto-collisions today, i think kharma is sending me a warning. point taken.

count the hyphens and made-up words in this post. i dare you.