Check a political thread, won't you?

Listening to: We Love Katamari Soundtrack - Everlasting Love

O.M.F.G.

To paraphrase a certain post:

"You, and everyone else except for me, is stupid. I am the only one who makes informed political decisions, and you are a naive idiot. If you do not comply with the (insert poster's name here) voting way-of-life, you are double-plus ungood and are ruining America. You MUST vote! Unless you happen to vote differently from the way I vote. I which case you are stupid. But you're voting... and if you don't vote, you're stupid and... I..."

(at this point, poster's head explodes from over-inflation).

You know who you are, Ms. "I know what's good for you." In your perfect vision, we'd all be wearing little uniforms and copying your every move. You know, for the betterment of humanity and such.

Those lucky-jerk parents...

Listening to: Dazz Band - Let it Whip

Those folks of mine got back from China last friday, and they had pictures. Lots of them. And many wonderful stories.

I don't mean to sound like a whiny, cantankerous, spoiled piece of crap, but they could have very easily stowed me in their luggage, if they so pleased. My mom said that the trip was primarily "outside of her comfort zone" (they usually travel very very well, and while they still stayed at some nice places, the trip lent itself to a series of Amazing Race-like environments). I asked her if she'd run the race with me - mommy said we'd suck at it. She thinks that neither of us are particularly courageous, and I'm not going to argue that - she's absolutely right.

Now, Steve wants to race with me. Couple-racing has one mega-downside - the potential driven-to-insanity breakup. Is it worth the risk? Oh, probably not. But money + travel with the guy I love most? oooh, excellent carrot on that stick.

But then I come to the usual problem-when-applying thing - the "Have you been diagnosed with any mental illnesses?" question. Of course I can't lie - I take several medications to treat the problem. But if I'm fully medicated, and I haven't been a threat to anyone, including myself, that shouldn't be a problem, right?

Something's off

Listening to: Michael McDonald - No Such Luck

Something's off in my life.

My computer's audio is on the fritz, my printer isn't working, and I'm definitely not feeling the enthusiasm I often feel.

My head doesn't feel attached to my body - like there's some poisonous helium in it or something. I don't like this at all. I think I'm mad or upset about something, but I really don't know what, and that's the most frustrating part of all. It makes me feel miserable, but not depressed. Just really concerned. As I told my friend Justin last week, I feel like I have a permanently knitted brow.

And the folks are in China, so I can't call them about this. It fucking sucks.

Needin' love.

Listening to: Bill Withers - Use Me

It's been about a month or so since I last saw Steve, and longer still since we, uh, you know.

I ordinarily don't like to talk about such things, since it's really only my business, but I'm a twenty-something with a significant other. If you've gone without as long as I have in such a situation, it's going to get to you.

And it has.

And it's "that week." So chances are, even though I'm visiting the Mister this weekend, we'll be going without again.

Dammit dammit dammit.

Proper debate technique

Listening to: Bananarama - Cruel Summer (which seems to extend into October for some reason)

ARGH!

Frustration!

Pain!

Urge to kill rising!

For everyone:

Nobody is right 100% of the time. That is impossible. To be more specific/not specific, YOU are not right 100% of the time. Debating means arguing with reason, not with emotion - and I'm saying this as a goddamned BIPOLAR WRITER. There is a difference between fact and opinion, one which I had to painstakingly teach to a bunch of glazed-eyed freshmen last year. When you're dealing with something like opinion, the word "right" does not apply, because you are dealing with the stuff that pumps your blood, your spleen, and your brain.

And my spleen has to stay where it is, gathering in my veins, because I'm afraid of telling people that they're being a bunch of jerks.

Argue all you like, but people are people. You can't change anyone's mind about anything by telling them that they're stupid or wrong because they don't agree with you. It's pointless.

Fucking dreams

Listening to: Christopher Cross + Michael McDonald - Ride Like the Wind

I've been having way too many dreams I can remember lately, and I don't like any of them.

The other day, the dream involved being on an airplane supposedly en route to Minneapolis. Except every time I looked out the window, I saw the ocean. Maybe 50 feet below. I other words, we were flying lower than most rescue helicopters. And there were leaping fish everywhere. No matter when I looked out the window, there was the ocean, and there were the tuna. And then the plane finally landed. In the middle of a horrifying thunderstorm. There were some very strange looking skyscrapers outside, glowing with pink and green neon. I didn't recognize them at all. Then the PA says "Welcome to Los Angeles International Airport."

What. The. Fuck.

Nevermind the fact that there is NO way to fly over ocean to get from eastern-US point A to southern California point B. There were way too many things wrong with this.

The last couple nights have involved ex-boyfriends. The relationships ended poorly, but I'm perfectly happy now. I'm with a guy I love more than anything, and then I get this weird bullshit.

Last night, the ex in question was Adam, I guy who I dated when I was about 15. We were both really immature, and though we've since made peace and talk as friends, I've never harbored anything remotely close to romantic feelings for him again. And now I get this stupid shit dream about how Steve and I have parted amicably so I can settle down with Adam?

WHAT THE FUCK?!?

(To Steve: It's a dream, honey. I don't like it any more than you do.)

I hate the ex-boyfriend dreams the most. I always wake up feeling angry, weird, and then angry again.

I wish I was chilling with Steve at the Luxor right now (he even got his own room, apparently rather unusual for these sorts of meetings) and not kicking myself for my idiotic subconscious.

Icky girl stuff

Listening to: snoring cat

Alright, time to be a little too revealing.

I am suffering from godawful cramps of the monthly variety. I feel like someone's repeatedly kicking me in the lower abdomen, while simultaneously feeling like I'm sitting in a very uncomfortable, posture-mangling chair. I feel nauseous every time I stand up, and the abdominal cramps make me feel like I really have to poop, when I know I don't.

The icing on top was the maybe six hours of sleep I received last night - thanks a lot, horrible cramps and noisy cats! So not only do I feel like shit physically, mentally, I'm running on half an engine.

Thankfully, I only have one class to sit through today, but I'm really not feeling good at all. I have to do some walking this afternoon, to go to the bank and then get home. The thought of walking while being in a state of will-she-or-won't-she vomit-flux is kicking my brain's ass. I've puked in the Anderson Hall toilets about 6 times so far, and I have no interest in doing it again. I mean, throwing up anywhere sucks, but being so close to the disgusting, sticky floors of those restrooms is enough to make you vomit in itself.

So, now that I've shared my period/vomiting woes, this post is officially the most grody thing I've ever posted.