it's april 11th today.

Haven't written in a while. I've been almost bipolar in my moods lately, up and down, up and down. Trying to work on regulating that. I've also been getting some terrible migraines, but hopefully got a prescription that will help me with them.

Today is the one year anniversary of the day I met the man who has been my boyfriend for almost 9 months. It's weird. So much has gone on in my life since then, but it seems unbelievable that it would have been a year since that time.

School is of course eating my mind. I can't even type down how much I have to do before the end of the semester.

Summer plans look good and busy... babysitting Chris and Emi once a week, mentoring a few times a week, working with one of my favorite psychiatrists on developing a new health program for a local high school, volunteering as a suicide helpline counselor for The Trevor Project... and taking the weekends off. Why? Mainly because I will be out of town for at least 4 weekends this summer, undoubtedly more, and because The Trevor Project requires two whole weekends in June for training. So I might not be making too much money this summer, but at this point, if I get some good recommendations and experience out of it, I couldn't care less. And free weekends should mean more time with the boy... right?

Friend stuff is slightly drama as always. I count myself lucky to have them, but I'm so blessed to have the best friend of all, mah boo... no, but really. He's a life-saver at this point.

I'm registering for my last semester of my undergraduate career tomorrow afternoon... creeping myself out!

Well, we all know my life is weird. How's yours?

the start to a ... well, a week.

An ear infection. Perception midterm on Wednesday that, if I do better on it than the first, will count for half my grade. Term paper draft due (technically Tuesday but it's fine if I turn it in Thursday). These things all hurt pretty bad. My reward? Sugarfree Red Bull and getting to see my boyfriend Friday night in Pennsylvania.

Also I think I bagged me a roommate (one of my best friendsies Oscar!) for the big-girl apartment. Which will be like Oscar's 3rd apartment and his current one-bedroom is gorgeous so I have no doubts that we will have funnnnn!

YES!

July 7th - good enough! 

Here's the plan: I fly out to JFK, get in the evening of the 7th. During the 5-day week, I'll be living in my aunt and uncle's attic in Long Island and working probably three days a week babysitting the same boy I sit for during the year. On those three days, I'll probably take the train in to Manhattan in the morning, go the gym at school, shower there, maybe grab lunch with one of my friends or hang out in the park or something, and then make my way to Bensonhurst for the afternoon. On the other two days, I will probably stay at my aunt's house and help her with her kids, laundry, dishes, all that good stuff, just hang out. On the weekends, I will stay with a friend in the city and do the crazy stuff we kids like to do. This is also good because when Jon comes to visit (probably only once during the summer) we can crash at a friend's. My aunt and uncle would so not be down for me to bring a boy home to their attic. He would only come in once because obviously it's more optimal for him to be sleeping in my room, so we're not imposing on friends or whatever. I move in August 30th I think, and I will have my own room and be down the hall from my girlfriends in the 20shit Street dorm, and of course that's perfect for him to visit.

We've been talking a lot, still daily, and I swear, this whole long distance thing is the only thing wrong with us. Other than that, we are great, good, and glorious together.

Cannot wait to see all the kids! Oscar, Rachel, Abeer, Amy, Jenny, Liz, Ankit, Andrea, Matt, Jeff, Jake, Suzanne... and Jon :)

wednesday's adventure.

Wednesday was a great day. I went to lunch with a buddy of mine from Camp, Jill. It was so nice to see her, and my friends who also volunteer at Camp, Dani and Shaun, once more, after my 4 months in New York. It was really nice. Camp is happening in 30-something days and I could not be more THRILLED! I need to get some costumes and fanfare going for our theme (a surprisingly tricky one) disco/rock star. We'll see how this goes haha. And I know they haven't paired buddies yet, but... I WANNA KNOW WHO MY BUDDY IS SO I CAN MAKE US MATCHING SHIRTS. I am still crossing my fingers for Theresa, whom I've never had before but is AMAZING, or for one of the millions of new buddies we are rumoured to be getting this year. Yvonne apparently is the biggest baller on this planet, other than the great Diane, love of my Camplife.

My g-bf Josh and I had an epic adventure to see my other love, Ben Folds, in LA. SO GREAT. We encountered a very flamboyant Latino businessman who encouraged us to use the passing train as a backdrop for a picture; we rode the Metrolink for the very first (and possibly last) time; we ate at a Mexican restaurant called Tidal Wave, which featured pizza, burgers, salads, and sandwiches; we made friends near us at the Ben Folds concert, Percy (real name Ian) and Jim (real name Steve); WE SAW BEN FOLDS. Also, Sara Bareilles and Josh Groban were randomly there - what the fuck? - but we rolled with it. Josh Groban sang "Still Fighting It," which was interesting, but I don't really support it. Only Ben should sing that song, not an opera-pop bastard. Not that I don't think Josh Groban is kind of a baller, because he is, and he's very physically attractive, so that's helpful.

Ben was amazing. AND HE PLAYED BITCHES AIN'T SHIT EVEN THOUGH HE DOESN'T PLAY IT ANYMORE. I almost died of joy. It was wonderful.

Also... in an interesting power struggle between my parents, Josh was first relegated to sleep in the living room. I argue against this but am finally resigned. Then my mother returns from within she and my father's bedroom to say, "Would it be easier if he slept in your room?" And I was like, "YES." And she was like, "But on the floor, right?" Let me preface this by saying that I have a queen-sized bed, have shared a twin-sized bed with this kid before, and... oh yeah... HE LIKES MEN SO WE'RE CLEARLY NOT HAVING SEX. Super awkward. I am pretty sure my dad said something to her like, "Who gives a fuck, Peggy, let the little fag sleep in her huge bed. Jesus Christ she's 20 years old and tattooed, for shit's sake."

In other news... my tattoo is healing nicely and my gladiator sandals come up perfectly to juuuust below it; my family may or may not be moving to Colorado at the end of the summer; I think I have interviews with Macy's and Cherry On Top frozen yogurt next week (YES! A JOB!); and tonight my friend and I are driving up to UCLA to be silly for her birfday, the big 2-0.

pacific standard.

I have come to realize that I despise the Pacific Standard Time Zone. It is almost 8 o clock here, but my lucky brethren on the East Coast have 11 pm! What the fuck! I want to go to bed, son! And I know what you're thinking... if you want to go to bed, go to bed, Liz. Well, I tried that, smartass. If I go to bed at 9:30, I will have really awkward sleep patterns, nightsweats, and bad dreams. Tonight I have to make myself last til 11 - which is 2 am in New York and Pennsylvania, where all the important people live! Jon will maybe be awake that late, but I mean, I don't know, and do I really want to interrupt his last night of college drinking? (As I text him...)

So far, being home is pretty boring, but I am also pretty sure that I have lost some weight, which is cool. The job market is a fucking bitch and I don't really know if I will get a job, to be perfectly honest, though I am hoping I get just one fucking call. I will work ANYWHERE.

There was a weird fucking party last week that I ended up at with a girl I've known since I was 4, though we didn't go to the same high school, and randomly, a bunch of kids who actually did go to my high school but never talked to me were there. It was weird because they hardcore hit on my friend, talked to me like we were buddies, and were actually nice. It was also weird because one of them apologized for being a douchebag in high school (which he kinda was, but it's not like I was losing any sleep over it), and the other one told me he thought I was so mellow in class I must have been a huge stoner, only for me to inform him that I was probably buzzed on my Special Coffee. A rando kid told me about how his parents were really rich and walked me home and kissed me for about a nanosecond, mostly because my friend had turned him down (and slapped him). I actually had an entourage of 4 drunk people walking me home, passing a bottle of Jaeger: that rando kid, an ex male cheerleader from my school who apparently will "hook up with anything with a pulse," a girl he was trying to score with, and the nice kid from my high school whose 21st birthday it was.

But yeah so I've been hanging out with that girl a lot and I had lunch with my best girl today, who is leaving me for Boston and then Paris until July, and that was nice. If I can find a motherfucking job, maybe I will survive.

Cool thing: I ended up apparently doing really well on the last essay for my writing class, and my professor put it in the stack for consideration by way of committee for this book NYU puts out every year called Mercer Street, which is essentially the "good" essays for a particular year written by the students and then they make next year's freshmen read them in their required writing class. Pretty cool, I guess. I don't know if mine is in or not, but at least I know I got an A in that class.

tuesday.

As I listen unintentionally to the garbled (we closed our door so she could have some privacy), tearful, angry words exchanged for the 47 billionth time between my suitemate and her boyfriend, via phone, after having a lovely little chat with Penn about him visiting me in the fall, upon my return to New York, I realize a.) I might not be a cat lady, and b.) relationships are stressful. While they reap so many rewards, being single (read: completely alone) offers its own benefits, and I am young. I should enjoy them while they are here.

In other news... it is very very warm here in NYC today. As I always say... When in doubt, dress like a whore!

No, but really... otherwise you will sweat to death.

Also, I refuse to be scared of the swine flu until I am forced to be, so if I could make it through the next two weeks without any of my finals being cancelled, that would be great kthnx.

sunday afternoon.

My friends and I got the worst dorm in all of NYU dorming, but since I am only going to live there for a semester in the fall before I jet off to Prague, I should be able to tough it out. The girl who was going to be my roommate, one of my best friends, decided she is probably going to go to Madrid in the fall, so if she does that, her name is still on the room, and even after it's not, no one is going to want to transfer into the 26th Street dorm, so I will have a single, too. My friends live down the hall, and then the girls in the other bedrooms will be strangers I guess. Not a problem. I kind of like that better I think.

I feel like I am so fucking done with school, but, as per usual, school is not done with me. I have a final paper for my writing class that I need to be re-drafting and re-turning in every like two days, I have two sign language presentations, I have a final diagnosis/treatment paper for the treatment class, I have an exam for that class, and I have an exam for cognition. Fuuuuuuuuuck. I am making valiant attempts to get the shit all done, but with work and this beautiful weather Doable, though, I think. My winter stuff and my tv and my kitchen stuff and books/DVDs I don't want to take home will be going in the back of my aunt's car to live safely in an attic in Long Island again, my spring/summer clothing, DVDs, and other random shit will come home with me, while everything else will either go in the garbage/be donated if I don't use it anymore or whatever. It's going to be a shitshow.

Yesterday was the most beautiful day we've had so far in New York this year and I had to spend almost all of it inside, at an orientation for a job I've held successfully for three months. I get paid for it, though, so at least that's a plus.

Coming soon... finals, finals, finals! Figuring out what my post-undergrad plans are. Figuring out where I am going to get a job this summer. Getting my drivers license at the age of 20. Turning 20 - the most anticlimactic birthday ever, though my ID will be turning 23, so it's not like I won't be able to celebrate. An anatomy class at Santiago Canyon for the summer with my friend Eric. Packing: the journey. Arranging for weekend trips to UCLA in May and San Francisco in probably July or August. Camp Re-Creation shopping. Camp Re-Creation and all associated shenanigans. Drinking with the parents. Seeing my friends. Being sunny. Chilling the fuck out.

I am starting to wonder if living in New York for the rest of my life is the best idea, given how badly I want to get out right now. I don't really know. Maybe after school things will be different. Maybe a different living situation. Maybe being closer to my friends next semester than I was this year will help. I loved freshman year, after all. I think California just sounds so goddamned idyllic right now, but after like a month, I'll be sick of it and ready to come back. It's the oldest story in the book. Only want what you don't have.

in a nutshell.

My life: school, work, worrying about housing.

Today I skipped my second class to go get a cheesesteak with the cowboy. It was pretty fun, and it was my very first cheesesteak. We are going to go with Pat C. Hoy II, god among men, next week, so I guess that's another class missed. Oh well.

Registration went really well. I am taking a seminar on Autistic Spectrum Disorders that I am really excited about, a class called Divorce in America that looks very interesting, Perception (gag me with a wooden paddle), and Social Psychology. Big Psych semester ahead!

Work is going alright... especially knowing that there's only two weeks of it left before I take a break and get a summer job at home in (very fucking) sunny California. Supposedly it is insanely hot there right now, right as we are just ending rains, hopefully for the next two weeks at least! I am very excited about returning to babysitting Christopher and helping his mom out with the new baby, and about returning to JobPath, a company I can see myself working for for a long time.

Housing for next year is going to suck balls because NYU gives juniors the lowest housing status... so even though my time was today, my friends' time is tomorrow, and I want to try to at least live like next door to them, if not in their suite. I was hoping to be suitemates with Bit, but it looks like she is going to go to Madrid, so it is not to be. I don't really mind the idea of living with strangers much if the girls are down the hall or next door. This year, even though I lived with people I knew, these particular friends were way too far away, and I know I don't want that to happen again. Anyway, it looks like since we have such a late time, it is going to suck balls, but I am hoping we get into Lafayette (ironic statement of the week, anyone?).

I've been talking to the guy from the cowboy's party I hooked up with like every day, but I kind of don't think I will ever see him, even though we get along very well and make each other laugh and had great chemistry. He is graduating from Penn State in a few weeks and then going home to southwest PA to work and save some money so he can leave Pennsylvania. .... I fucking hate Pennsylvania, I've decided, as it is a very large barrier to me being with this kid. Ah well.

The best thing about going home is Camp Re-Creation. The second best thing is less stress. The third best thing is reuniting with some of my best friends, from Camp and from high school, and like one girl from grade school. The fourth is that my sister is going to college in the fall, probably UCLA, and I think my mom is going to let me teach her how to drink so she doesn't become one of those kids who goes to the hospital after their first party because they don't know their limit. Admittedly, I have only recently truly embraced "knowing my limit," but never have I had to go to the hospital or have my stomach pumped or anything. I want to teach her to play flipcup and to enjoy cheapass beer.

Last night my mom texted me to tell me a.) that she had just finished watching the Sex & the City movie and had informed my father that he would be making the two of us (read: me and my mom, not my mom and dad) cosmopolitans all summer, and b.) that she and my father were watching The Daily Show at the same time I was. Pretty fucking awesome. Kind of can't wait to chill out with my dad and drink a beer and watch The fucking Daily Show. I love Jon Stewart.

Speaking of beer, the last two nights of mine were spent remembering why Harp is my favourite fucking beer of all time... while I did my homework. 

okay again.

So after being massively ill since Tuesday afternoon, unable to eat without horrible consequences, the worst headache of my nineteen years of life, fevers, etc. I am now feeling decently well enough, which is perfect, as the more-demanding of my jobs, the babysitting one, is this afternoon.

After Monday being a shitshow for various reasons and then being plunged into the plague, I was starting to wonder if I had terrible karma. It's a possibility I haven't yet ruled out, but it also gave me some time to think about who and what are really important to me, and who and what haven't been important to me for quite some time, or if their importances have changed.

For instance, acid hips. SO over it. Have been for months. The only thing I needed to drive the thing home was him berating me and being really mean to me for something I still don't even know or understand. It actually felt pretty good to be able to tell him I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, that I have a life, and I'm sorry he heard whatever he heard, because that must have sucked to hear, but it's not true.

The cowboy. We're friends. That's all I want.

I am starting to think I'm asexual, actually. I have been really pretty uninterested in men, generally, for the past two weeks or so. I don't know. I don't know anyone whom I would want to date, I guess, and I'm tired of looking or convincing myself that one of my acquaintances actually would be great for me. I'm feeling fine with being alone for a good long time.

I also feel like I really have such regard and love for my friends, and I watch the way Erica is with hers... or at least, the ones who smoke with her. I feel like they become vehicles of weed for her, with annoying personalities attached. She was more mad at acid hips for what he said to me than I was, but the next night, he was in my bedroom, smoking her up. She calls them names behind their backs, but is all down to hang out if there's weed. It makes me a little sad. It makes me wonder what she tells people about me. I don't know. I like the way my relationships are. At least they're based on a connection, even if they are between two very fucked-up people, which often, they are. But I guess that is the relationship between me and her, seeing as I don't really smoke weed, given that I'm an alcoholic and I don't like to mix, so I shouldn't really worry about her relationships with other people, as long as ours is okay.

As I've said, I've had a lot to think about, and I was really sad for a while, but I think I am finally okay.

the straights, the gays, the girls.

My life has been really busy lately and I am just goinggoinggoing and I need to start doing better in school and shit but there's just so much of it. Coffee and sugarfree Red Bull in the day, wine at night. Welcome to my life for the rest of the semester. I'm going insane.

Date with D2 tonight. I don't really know how that will go.

The animal handler got a new job, starting in May. He had gotten laid off by the place where he worked at the beginning of this month, and so now he is going to be a NYC Park Ranger. He says he will get to do some neat wildlife programs in whatever park he is assigned to. I am trying to decide if I am changing his name to the park ranger. The animal handler just sticks so well, though. It's catchy.

My friend from home, Mike, is staying with me right now. It's been really nice to see him. He is part of the reason I don't have a lot of study time (but I think the biggest problem is no motivation). Last night he and his ladyfriend didn't get here until like 1:30 and I was drunk and it was ridiculous, but I don't think I did anything terribly offensive, so that's kind of fabulous and so incredibly rare, given that I really don't have a strong handle on my behaviour when I'm sober either.

Suzanne was here yesterday. She, Bit, and I had brunch and cackled like the crazy bitches we are. That was really really good. Bit got french toast and gave Suzanne and I a piece because she couldn't eat it all.. I was still kind of working on it when the guy came to take our plates and he tried to take it and my kneejerk reaction, I swear to god, was, a gasped, "Don't take that!"  I felt bad for being so rude, but he just laughed at me, so that was okay. And then everyone laughed at me for a good three minutes.

I found the best sushi place last night, by the way. It's by where I babysit, and I got a yellowtail roll and a spicy tuna roll for $5.45. That's right. Rolls that cost $2.50. I love my life.

Josh and his friend Jeff were here all week and I saw them on Tuesday and Thursday. We went and saw Hedda Gabler, which I actually didn't really like, but Mary-Louise Parker was, as she is in everything, amazing. I swooned. She was such a frigid bitch and she did it so well. She was kind of frigid at the stage door, too. We three homosexual males that we are just nodeed knowingly, assuming she was in a Mood. On Thursday, it was four gays and me having drinks around Oscar's sickbed. The gossip that was flying in that room was obscene, absurd, and magnificent.

Fun fact: At the beginning of this semester, I got blackout drunk and hooked up with this guy who lives down the hall. He's completely unattractive, but a nice guy. He's also insanely theatrical and overbearingly Italian, which only adds to the unattractiveness. Anyway, apparently when he gets drunk, he talks about it and tells people that I have a really good body. Which can't actually be true, but I will take the positive press anytime.

exhaustion.

Today I was practicing my sign language presentation that I had this afternoon, when Erica told me she thought she had some gas. She took some Gas-X and I kept practicing. Like thirty minutes later, she is moaning. Loudly. She starts screaming like a dying mountain lion. I'm freaking out. She continues screaming for another thirty or so minutes. I call an ambulance. We're both freaking out. Apparently the pain was so intense like she had never felt before.

These supercool paramedics come. They're like, "Guys it reeks of weed in here." And I'm like, "I have no idea why." And the dude, who later told us that he was roommates with Dennis Leary -- hah -- says, "Look, we don't care at all, but sometimes police follow us on our calls, so hide your stuff." And Fuld was like, "Oh, she did." And then this guy, the ACDE of our building, who at the beginning of the year I totally wanted to have sex with, no lie, shows up at our door, and is like, "What's going on?" And I'm talking to him, and the cool paramedic guy comes over and is like, "Who are you?" He takes him outside and (we learn later) tells the guy that he can tell he's high on something more than pot and to take my cell number and get the hell away from us. Such a BAMF!

So they take us to Bellevue in the ambulance and we're in the waiting room for like 2 hours. Then they take her back and I'm not allowed to go with her... and I sit in the waiting room for another 5 and a half hours.

I missed work, which my boss was very understanding of because she is a sweetheart, and sign language again because I took someone to the hospital again. I think my teacher thinks I am full of shit. Who has to take two different friends to the hospital in the course of ONE week?! 

I have two exams tomorrow. I'm exhausted. I have to try to study for a few hours.

And I'm worried about my Derek, who had a really really rough night. I want him to tell someone else about it instead of just me, who can't really do anything to help him the way he deserves.

sometimes i wish i was like mariella

I wish my Friday was a laid-back kind of day. I have both my jobs and there is quite a bit of rushing like insanity between them. Fuck the Brooklyn commute.

Jake, formerly the cowboy, and I are having coffee on Sunday, primarily to discuss that we are both assholes, I think. If you're reading this, I dropped the pseudonym (expletive expletive expletive). He thinks I am being cold towards him. I think, first of all, that I don't even know how to be cold, and also that typically I am a very affectionate friend and I didn't want him to mistake my platonic affection for continued I-want-to-fuck-you stuff that no longer exists. Anyway I am hoping that that will be a good conversation, since he and I talk like every day and so he is, kind of suddenly, a decently sized part of my social/school life that I would hate to lose due to misunderstanding. If he wasn't there, I would feel really alone in Pat C. Hoy's class. Pat C. Hoy is the teacher... he can't be my only friend in there, too.

Last night my friend Derek, whom I have known for 5 years or something insane like that, was home from school -- he lives on the Upper East Side -- and so we had a late dinner with delicious sangria at Curly's and then went to Urban Outfitters while Jake and I were text-message arguing and I cried while he was in the dressing room trying on overpriced hipster gear and then we came home and watched Saved! and had one drink each. He critically assessed my physical being and told me he thought I would "do better with women." Apparently I am not alone in thinking that I am extremely unattractive to men. Derek and Jake should meet. And then the two of them should meet awkward sign language guy and the animal handler. That would be interesting. I almost think that Derek and Jake would be very successful in convincing the other two that I am an unattractive, frigid cow, given as I have not slept with any of the four of them, much to the latter two's dismay.

Tonight my sign language class and I are going to get drunk at Blockheads and sign to each other and pretend to be deaf and I am pretty goddamned excited about it. I am coming straight from work so I am bringing a water bottle of the vino to work with me (relax... it is staying in my purse and only coming out for the hour long train ride from Brooklyn to midtown). And this is day 3 of no daytime drinking, going strong. I am reasserting my love of coffee until it gets dark.

Lately things have been going well. I kind of miss the simple days of elementary school when I never spoke to anyone except maybe my parents and the occasional teacher. Oh, and the librarian.

Listen to Kate Nash's song, "Mariella."

New favourite FML of all time:

Today, I dropped my keys. Not wanting to lean over and pick them up, I pointed at them and said, "Accio." Then I realized I had tried to use a Harry Potter spell in real life and in public. FML.

I wish I was that person.

oh no.

My anxiety has been getting worse from being so busy and being worried all the time about not being good at my jobs because I should be good at them because I've been working with these populations for years and years and this is supposed to be my future career but I don't think I'm very competent and I wouldn't be hired at these jobs if these people who hired me knew what my home life was like and there is such a huge fucking disconnect I am supposed to be nice and patient and kind everywhere and I'm just not nice or kind or patient I am an asshole and I'm weird and I'm an alcoholic and I'm worried about class especially writing because everyone else is a very good writer and I am not and the cowboy is there and he knows I'm kind of a moron but today I decided I have to stop drinking before class and work. Only in the evenings and only a little bit and only after I have done every single thing that I need to do.

Which may mean that I never drink again because I am always so busy or tired.

I gave my mom the number on the hospital bill like weeks ago but she said it's the wrong one but I don't know where the bill is and I don't know what to do.

Yesterday I had to take my friend to the hospital because he was really sick and he is a transfer student and he doesn't really have anyone else. We were there for 5 hours and they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him and he was freaking out and eventually they just told him that if it got worse, he should come back, but if not, go home and rest.

Everything feels like it's stacking higherhigherhigher in my head and I am alone with a sleeping stoner girl who has to smoke weed to get herself to do just about anything and then doesn't end up doing it but takes a nap and I need a drink I need a drink I need a drink.

I feel like I am going to throw up.

v day fo realz.

What actually ended up happening after my very nice and not too depressing day with myself is that Joe called me and wanted me to buy booze with him. Then he had an idea that we should go to this sushi place because they give you lots of free sake. I was like, okay. On the way there, I started not feeling very good, so I just ordered like a plain yellowtail roll. I only had a piece of it and two little sake cups but I knew I was gonna throw up. So I went and threw up pink in a public bathroom and then drank a pitcher of water.

Then Joe and I went to his sister's apartment because she had left food for him and he didn't want it to go bad or something. So we did that and then we went home. Apparently this guy Dan I had hooked up with on Halloween was going to maybs come over, but then he didn't. He was a nice guy, I think. Joe said he was bummed that I didn't remember him. Woops.

Then Joe and I just watched Friends and drank a beer and I fell asleep and I was talking to him while I was asleep essentially and he went and slept on my couch.

The other thing that happened yesterday was that the guy whose mom my mom met at the party added me on facebook. And he's fairly cute. I would do it. He's like kind of a hipster fuck in Greenpoint, but whatever.

Also I may or may not have been flirting with a guy in my writing class yesterday who is kind of a mountain man.

Today it's homework, volunteering in Brooklyn, and maybs the animal handler. Back to reality....ish.

sad.

My friend Suzanne's dad passed away yesterday. He's been in the hospital for a while and she took the semester off to be with him, so I don't know if anyone, including/especially her, was surprised, but that sucks so hard. I feel pretty bad about it and don't know what to say. Bit and I are sending her flowers and we think that we will go visit her sometime. I would need Bit to go with me because I don't know if I'd be brave enough to visit the South without her.

Other than that... due to the outstanding challenge of a drinking competition between myself and Erica's cute friend whom I may or may not have a crush on, we are facebook shittalking right now. It would be adorable if we could then make out. Wishful thinking, probably.

Long day today. Thursdays are fucking intense! Saddle up, Castner.

what a week.

Monday night, Carolyn and her friend Aubrie got here. They were to be staying in my dorm until Friday morning. I didn't get to hang out with them much, though, because I had school and work and reading and things to do. At about 7:30, they decided that they wanted to go DC for the inauguration.

After about an hour and a half of trying, they were able to find a way there, along with many of the good people of Manhattan... by taking a bus to Baltimore and then... figuring it out from there. They then took off, about 3 hours after they had arrived. This decision of theirs brought it to my attention that I am not very spontaneous. Had I wanted to go to the inauguration, I would have looked into the great student packages they were offering and figured out exactly how I would make that happen... at least two weeks in advance.

So fine, I'm not spontaneous and they are. They do things like go on buses all night to go to DC for Obama and I do things like go to class. I'm boring. I get it.

Classes were good, though. After now having had two of Pat C. Hoy II's writing classes, I can assert with great confidence that most of the people in the class are better at this stuff than I am and are very smart. Ironically, the class this semester is about reviewing films. Why is this ironic? Last semester, the class that made me want to slit my wrists on a regular basis was the basic film class I took for a core requirement. Fuck.

This will be different, though. There are two final essays that the class builds up to, one being about film. The other one can be about a book. Thank goodness. I chose When Harry Met Sally to review for my essay. Obviously. Our first assignment relating to that (and not to the reading we also have to do) was pretty cool. We had to pick the "two most vexing scenes" in the movie and write a paragraph about why we find them vexing.

Treatment of Child and Adolescent Mental Illness looks like it will be good, too, and with Chadly and Jenna, I think it will definitely be a good one.

Cognition looks hard, and it's a huuuuuuge class crammed into a lecture hall with barely any extra seats. I know only one person in it, and I don't sit with him (so far). I make myself pay attention. Lots of note-taking.

And ASL 4 is a huge class, too. For a sign language class, that is. But it's been fun. The first two days were good. I am a little scared of its kicking my ass, but let's be realistic. All of these classes are going to kick my ass in one way or another.

I start babysitting for Christopher next Thursday. Yesterday I went over and Estera showed me the places they like to go when they go out. The three of us went to this cool fish store that has this really intimidating and fucking crazy parrot, to a pizza parlor, to a park, and to Baskin Robbins. I guess there's another park they prefer to go to, but in the winter they close at 4... and Chris doesn't get home until like 3:45 anyway, so that sucks. And they like to take a train to go to Barnes & Noble, but we didn't do that.

In an hour, I am going to meet my first mentee (if that's what they are even called) Wendela. I get fingerprinted on Wednesday and get my PPD on Friday. After all the paperwork stuff is done, I hope to start working with that ASAP.

Tonight tonight we are going out and I am so exciteddddd. The only people missing are Rachel, Abeer, Amy, and Sam. This whole study abroad thing is a bummerrrrr.

caffeine-addiction restarts... yesterday

Yesterday was a pretty long day. After babysitting some kids last minute in a hotel the night before that, I tried to sleep... and failed. Woke up and went to the gym. Upon my return from the body temple, I had a voicemail from the mom... I had taken their hotel key. Woops! She was very cool about it and asked that I leave it at a nearby restaurant in an envelope with her name on it, as she had reservations there later that night. I apologetically obliged and then hopped on my usual Sunday train to the Brooklyn JCH to volunteer with kids with autism for a few hours, where I lead a double life as a is-she/isn't-she Jewess... They aren't sure if I'm Jewish - some think I am, some probably don't, some probably don't care... for instance, the following conversation snippet.

Mike: Whoa, you have blue eyes?!

Me: Yeah...

Mike: Sick! (he said this enthusiastically, in that male way that actually means something positive)

I worked with little Jamie again, which was fun, as she has no behavioural problems at all, and I felt like we actually made a connection as she climbed on the ballet bars in front of the mirrors in the dance room and we stared at our reflections. She mimicked my facial expressions and we danced to the music and did all kinds of acrobatics. It was great. If only my fellow workers were as friendly... Not that they're unfriendly, just cliquey.

Anyway after that was done, I got to leave in the snow and go to dinner with my two favourite Southern ladies, Bit and Suzanne. After some dinner and gossip, brought to you from India and North Carolina... and California, of course, we enjoyed a giant slice of carrot cake.

Today, I awoke at the very early hour of 6:45 and returned to Brooklyn, this time to meet a boy named Christopher, his current babysitter, Estera, and his mom, Janice, to see what it would be like to be his babysitter two afternoons a week... and I'm gonna do it. Christopher is going to be ten in March and has autism. He loves trains. He was a sweetheart.

Carolyn and her friend Aubrie will be at my apartment for a few days starting this afternoon. I hope it stops snowing so that I can take them outside and do some touristy shit. The rest of this week (and my life), I'm going to be too busy to do anything like that and will just be sending them out into the world, saying, "Have fun! Come back when it gets dark!"

I am going to be so tired this semester. My two jobs and classes are going to kick the shit out of me. But I think I will be happy. That is the goal.

good morning.

Sometimes waking up at 9:30 in the morning and forcing oneself out of bed feels pretty damn good, after the first few minutes of regret and drowsiness are over. Back to my usual habit of hitting up the only Trader Joe's in Manhattan just after it opens. I'm feeling pensive today, maybe because I don't have much to do, except go the gym and do some laundry. And clean up the apartment before the animal handler comes and call Gilda and go get some wine.

The pictures of me and my friends that are all over my walls are more representative than the pictures I brought in frames of me and my friends before freshman year, except for the Camp pictures. But out of all the kids from home (non-Camp) that I am pictured with, I am still friends with two and a half of them: Whitney, Mike, and sort of Chris. And Jennessa, I suppose. Okay, so three and a half of them. Or four, if we're going to be kind to poor Chris, which I so rarely am, and who is far happier than I am on a regular basis, and so should not be referred to as "poor Chris" any longer.

I got the job I interviewed for on Wednesday, so I am hopefully going to have two jobs. One as a babysitter to a 9 year old boy with autism two afternoons a week. And the other, the interview job, as a mentor in the life coaching program at a company called JobPath, mentoring and helping one, two, or three, depending on how schedules work out, young adults around my own age with high-functioning autism. I am pretty excited by the prospect of working again.

School is kind of like my job, and work is kind of like my extracurricular - in my brain, that is, though both are entirely necessary. School this semester is going to be hard and take up a huge amount of my time. Drunken nights are probably going to become mostly a thing of the past, and I am either going to be working or studying just about all the time. I don't mind that, though, even though I don't know how interesting Cognition will be to me, and even though writing for Pat C. Hoy II will take probably hours, twice a week. Late nights, coffee, study. I don't know why, but studying actually sounds fun to me.

I'm kind of tired of being a drunken, staggering fool, as fun as it was and always will be, I'm sure. I think my classes this semester are going to be harder, less intuitive, and more ass-kicking than last semester, though Child and Adolescent Psychopathology and Developmental Psychology, classes that came pretty easily to me, will always be near and dear to my heart. I like being a homebody. And if being a homebody involves a drink or two, well, that's fine, but once school starts, those nights where I would drink a bottle of wine in one sitting are going to be a thing of the past. No bars, no clubs. Snuggling at home and watching a movie or playing Uno or something simple, having a good conversation. It's all I want. Maybe this is a function of so many of my friends being abroad - I wouldn't doubt it, but still, I am ready for school.

My Cognition textbook is waiting for me in the mailroom downstairs. I'm scared of it, but hopefully in the next four months, I will be able to get something out of it.

wish i could shut my playboy mouth

Totally typical night. Huge tub of cookie dough, massive bottle of wine, The Office, Dylan leaving at like 10, a run to the Russian liquor store at 10:30 in arctic conditions wearing a coat over my pajama pants, making pasta for me and Tim at 2:30 in the morning after we watch Y Tu Mama Tambien and Weeds, making inappropriate comments via text (though not too bad).

I had my first phone conversation with the love of my life, who probably knows that he is the love of my life, because he constantly refers to me as "bud" or "amigo." Bastard. I say that with love.

I set my alarm for 11:45 so I can wake up, buy a Lady GaGa ticket, and go back to bed if I choose. I think I will stay awake. Maybe. Maybe not. Actually, let's be realistic, I'm going back to bed.

I gave into the animal handler, so he's coming in tomorrow night. Goddamnit. And tonight I am supposed to go to Max Brenner with Laurel, so that should be interesting and high-calorie.

I hope that I get a phone call from the company I interviewed with today, rather than Tuesday, but that might be a little too optimistic. 

I need to cut my fingernails. And eat vegetables. And work out.