No one knows me better than MySpace!

How did MySpace know? Of course this is exactly what I've been searching for!

For no self-respecting drunkard like myself would be caught dead without proper sporting attire.

In other news, my grandmother has saved the day and is going to send me a loan so that I don't have to quit school, pack it all up, live in my car, and whore myself out for table scraps. She asked what I needed, and honestly most things can be paid for from my dwindling credit limits, so I told her some help with rent since my landlord doesn't take Discover. I told her though I'm looking for a cheaper place, I am really happy where I am because it's exactly what I need and not a shithole (but I didn't say shithole- it's my Grandma), and she totally understood that and then asked what my rent was. I told her, figuring she'd kick me a few months' worth. This morning I got an email from her telling me what and when she was sending, and about spit coffee all over my monitor. Not only does she want me to stay off the streets, she's making sure I can eat every now and then too. So thanks to her!! I won't be using this loan willy-nilly though, because I do have to eventually pay it back. To my Dad. Because it's coming from part of his inheritance. So thanks to him too, because it's technically his, just not yet.
I also had to promise Grandma that when she's gone, I will take care of my dad since when that happens he'll most likely be homeless because he lives with her (unless the Family gets their way in another plan of theirs involving me, which this loan may have just sort of guaranteed whether I like it or not)- like I would have just dumped him on a cart "Bring Out Yer Dead!" style...
Either way, I now have a little bit less to lose sleep over, and for that I am very grateful.

All these things we'll one day swallow whole

An exhausting past few days. Fun mostly. I will sleep soundly tonight.

This was on the PostSecret blog today.

A part of me immediately wished it was meant for me. The other part knew that was impossible. I'm sure it hit thousands of others the same way; broken hearts aren't really all that scarce. I do hope that whoever this card was written to sees it and is able to find some clue that gives away the identity of the creator. In my head I see people all over the country staring at this card like I did for a minute, searching for the mark that would make it theirs, and feeling the pang of disappointment when that mark can't be found.

All the kings horses and all the kings men...

After writing this, I will most likely spend the rest of the day cleaning my house. It has gotten intolerable in here, and now that I'm not in school I have no excuses to ignore it any longer. So yay, cleaning!

I got home yesterday and found my most favorite childhood relic smashed to pieces on the floor. It was the cookie jar from my dad's house, a ceramic cat with some random tulips on it and two little birds for the handle (sitting on the cat's head). Though I really like this thing, I've never really felt overly attached to my material things. I surprised myself by bursting into tears at the sight of it, and crying bitterly the entire time I was cleaning it up. I did save all the pieces that hadn't been reduced to dust, and once I find some superglue I'm going to attempt to put it back together.

I missed getting an A in one of my classes by 0.3 points. I like to say I don't really care about my grades, and I really wouldn't be bothered by getting a B if I had an 86 or something, but when it's that close... well, that's just annoying. I got A's in my other two classes, but this B ruins my perfect record in my program (I have gotten two other B's so far, but not in program classes- Microbiology and College Algebra). So boo to that.

I'm selling my bass and practice amp. They are listed on Craigslist now. If anyone is interested let me know. I'll also be trying to sell a crappy flute and a decent clarinet. After that I might sell a kidney.

I will NOT adopt another cat; I will NOT adopt another cat...

Regional FirstCare called. It's official that I have me a MRSA infection. I have yet to take any of the hydrocodone they gave me, but the antibiotic is making my belly unhappy. I guess it's better than dying of Staph, though.

Took a craptastic Pharmacology exam today. Doing large animal radiography tomorrow. Then Part 2 of my Surgical Nursing practical exam on Wednesday. As of right now, it's looking like this is as far as I go with this school program, which makes me sad. I'm gonna give a few more places a try for employment, and should have done that this afternoon, but my belly wasn't having the moving around too much.

I received an unexpected email on Friday afternoon. I don't know what to make of it, and I haven't decided what my course of action would be. I was surprised because there had been no contact for almost 2 months by now, and this was after a few desperate attempts at getting through on my part that were flatly ignored in the first of those months. I really just can't figure why he'd resurface now (especially since he must know that my opinion of him is pretty much in the shitter) and what he wanted to accomplish by contacting me. He's gone from Athens, and sounds as if he has no intentions of ever returning, so it's not a reconciliation. The entire thing was fairly vague, and a few things he said pertaining to me and what I wanted were blatantly wrong- it appears he didn't read either of the emails I sent to him, nor remembered half the shit I ever said to him, and he mentions talking to 'mutual friends'- the problem with that statement is that by then, I was barely in contact with any of these friends we used to share (they were mostly Grill people, from whom I'd already been drifting away for some time), so how would they be able to give any sort of insight on what was in my head? Anyway, part of me wants to respond in a civil, friendly fashion and see what happens. Another part wants to respond with only things I had already sent to him that directly contradict his latest email. Another part wants to respond and basically tell him off. More though, I think it would be best to not respond at all. So I don't think I will. I have a feeling he really doesn't want me to anyway, and that even if I did he'd just do what he always did before and not read it. He's the one who pulled the long-term disappearing act (twice now). And this is the second time he's gone a few months and then contacted me. What the hell is it that he wants?

I have run out of dry cat food, and Joe is driving me up a wall with his "I'm hungry!" shenanigans. I'm giving wet food, but I guess they like the dry better. Geez. It's not like he's going to starve to death. It would take him a good couple weeks to burn off that fat store he drags around with him.