Week 8: Not so great.

I shouldn't joke about laying on the couch all day. In a stunning display of karmic retribution, I got my comeuppance for making a flippant comment about it. Yesterday, I buried myself in my comforter and pillows and cried until I fell asleep. During the day. The downfall of being a graduate student is having enough time for such foolishness. Most of the time I am thrilled to be living in a cool new city, in my cool new neighborhood, doing cool new things, and then other times (like yesterday), I am absolutely debilitated by the realization that I am alone. It sucks. Remember when there was all this talk about the importance of having 12 meaningful touches during the day in order to be healthy? I'm not even close to 12. In fact, breaking single digits would mean that I had probably been involved in some sort of drug-induced orgy.

And remember how I was bitching about my neighbor's loud singing? Worse than the singing is listening to how goddamn happy she and her boyfriend are. Never yelling, never arguing, always laughing, always cooking, always listening to music together...I fear I'm becoming the auditory version of a voyeur: I strain to hear the sounds of their pedestrian happiness (no, RaRa, that is not a euphemism).

However, my malaise is well-timed: it's Thanksgiving, y'all! (Or, as someone keenly pointed out in one of my classes, her First Nation family calls it Thankstaking.) Regardless, I'm suiting up to eat through the pain. And when I'm done eating through the pain, I'm going to drink B- and watch football through the pain. And then eat through the pain some more.

Not sure where to start...

I apologize for the delay. I've been busy laying on my couch.

Last week I celebrated my 29th year on this planet, which was perfectly lovely. I got to Skype with some lovely ladies, I got the care package of a lifetime (TWO koozies, a hip flask, kleenex, USED chapstick, Safeway brand Oreos...AMAZING), I got to go to class (WOOOOHOOO!), Cellar Rat came to visit and we ate/drank our way through Pike's Place and Belltown...I partied with some Chileans, my parents sent me money, my lil brudr texted me at 12:01am exactly to wish me happy birfday. And all of my eleventy billion facebook friends hollered at me. In sum, I felt so loved. Which I think is what birthdays are for. I fully intend to celebrate for 29 days (one day for each year) which means I have some time left...

Then it was back to the grind...which is where I am now. Right now I'm reading something titled, "Feminist Standpoint versus Spontaneous Feminist Empiricist Epistemologies." It's a tough read cuz I don't know what any of those words mean.

Did any of you bet on the Alabama v. LSU game?

No? Really? Not the betting type? Too tough of a game to call? Shame on you for not having the internal fortitude required for gambling on a college football game!

Well, this weekend I met two people who were strong enough to bet on the game. So strong were they in their convictions that they had committed themselves to the ultimate wager: pissing themselves if the team they chose lost.

Saturday evening, after a grueling defensive battle, someone named Jay, who hails from southern Texas, pissed himself.

What week is this? 6? I dunno.

Good evening, you troglodytes! Salutations from the land of eight Thai restaurants on every city block and vitamin D deficiency. This morning at the bus stop I was greeted by what had to be a huge bummer:

Not only did someone start their day by getting pulled over by what I assume is the ONLY POLICE OFFICER WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT TRAFFIC VIOLATIONS, they had to get pulled over at a bus stop where there were a half dozen gloomy faced bus riders standing there and watching. Imagine getting a ticket and looking up and seeing a small crowd of people staring at you with a look on their face that says, "See, this is why you should ride the bus." Damn.

But my day was fine. As predicted, I kicked my stats midterm's rear! What was my reward? READING ALL DAY! Grad school is awesome, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

The 29th anniversary of my arrival into this bleak universe looms just one week away. I'm pretty stoked because a)it ain't 30 and b)IT'S A PRIME NUMBER!!!! GANGSTA!!!!

Ok, side note: has anyone seen the Ben Stiller and LT commercial for Sports Center? Here's why it sucks: LT sucks (sorry, honey!), and I have him on my fantasy team, so a commercial featuring him giving fantasy football advice is slightly ironic. Here's why it's awesome: LT tells Ben Stiller that he has Aaron Rodgers as QB on his fantasy team. Who has two thumbs and Aaron Rodgers on their fantasy team? THIS GIRL! It's especially significant given that Aaron Rodgers would also make my fantasy fantasy squad, if you know what I mean.

Hold. The. Phones.

Remember when I thought Pit Bull and Bud Light were twin angels miraculously conceived to make my life happier? I overlooked this: Giants pitcher, Brian Wilson and TACO BELL.



For the record, that particular image was saved on my computer with the file name, "My boyfriend." I'm not pathetic, I promise.

So what's new with all of you? I'm supposed to be reading right now, kind of like I was supposed to be reading all day, but it just didn't happen. Weird. And now that there are back to back episodes of 30 Rock on, I just don't see anything happening for the next 56 minutes. But after that....look out!

It was a gorgeous day in the land of mildew and horrible NFL teams (no, not Miami), a gorgeous day for kicking the crap out of my stats midterm this morning. I fought the urge to yell "GANGSTA!" when I handed it in.