no more adventures for me.

Asshole Boyfriend wondered if me being madly in love with the bf would lead me to have less adventures and misdeeds. Sadly, yes, though my life is no less ridiculous, and the bf cannot claim full credit - I have also been (cue gasps) doing all of my homework and reading for the 4 psych classes, while working 18 hours a week and putting in two hours a week at a school for autistic children here in the city.

For instance... it's 7.10 right now. I've been up since 6, and reading the Stanley Milgram obedience study since 6.30. Coffee's been made, cookie dough's been nibbled at (I have to go grocery shopping today and get real food), zits have been covered in shit to dry them out (I swear it's like I'm growing a new cheekbone).

Some adventures I've undertaken: a decision not to go abroad next semester, since my mother got laid off a few weeks ago; a subsequent decision to locate an apartment that will be cheaper or around the same price as this piece-of-shit dorm, without the slovenly soccer-playing lesbian roommate or the bunkbed; new birth control (well, not that I was on birth control for a significant amount of time, but the first three months of yaz were hellish); the Snow Patrol concert last week (sheer musical bliss); copious amounts of psychology; oh yeah, and being crazy in love with a boy who lets me maintain my insanity, though I've abandoned my old partygirl self.

I'm not too upset with becoming one of the more boring of my friends: I don't drink as often or as much, quantity-wise, so I don't embarrass myself or get lost or fall down or vomit or become (too) hungover; I try to get enough sleep; I overcaffeinate; when in doubt, Regina Spektor.