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Smoothed things out with people over at SCCC, who assured me, "Yes, you were accepted into the veterinary science program 4 days ago. Yes, you'll get your acceptance letter in a week."

Then my dad's all, "Hey, we got a place!"

And i'm all, "YES."

and he's all, "We're moving in July 1st,"

and i'm all


So then i smished Charlie who was all 'snort'

then i smished Dillon who was all, 'derp derp i'm in the air nao.'

Then dad was all, 'who's awesome'

and i was all

and now i'm all

I'm done mucking up everyone's flist browser now


May. 4th, 2010 01:34 pm
jay_moose: (Default)
 See, this is what happens when one is doing nothing for too long. You get restless, agitated...and then. Oh, boy, and then when the time comes to do stuff, you're all 'I'M DROWINING HEEEREEE'

Woke up early today so Dad could take me to get my (very, very long overdue) blood test.

Dad wasn't home.

until like...after 11.

Then i reminded him about the test, and he's like, "I have a phone interview in 5 minutes, then another one at 1:00. We'll go after."

Hate to tell him labs don't stay open as long as he thinks.

I was half tempted to ride my bike to the lab and do it myself like a big girl.

Then again, 90+ degrees, blood drawn, bike ride...maaybe not so much a good idea.

We're all kinda running around like chickens with our heads cut off, between searching for living accomodations, and me applying to schools. Calling schools, seeing if i can take pre-requisites online.

Hell, i don't even know if i got accepted to LCC.

Once said to [livejournal.com profile] soullessginger  that things were like "Being in the hospital when the wife is giving birth. You can't do much...just pace the halls. And wait."

See, i'm not a fan of not..knowing exactly where i stand. It gives me more stress.

Where are we going?

When are we going?

What college am i going to?

Long Island? Queens? Where are we living?

Warning: Digression.

I'm outside, and people are at the pool (my apartment is pretty much adjacent to it. Good for gossip), and this old guy calls to this younger woman, "Hey! Are you coming to my funeral?"

Woman: *totally confused* What?

Old Man: I was just wondering if you were gonna be at my funeral

Woman: Why would i..?

Old Man: I dunno. I thought maybe you'd like to make sure i was really dead or something.

Yeah. Totally random.

Uhm. Right. Two episodes left of SPN. and House. So part of me is like, "God, i hope we start moving/getting busy, because i don't think i could stand not having something to look forward to on Mon/Thurs."

(btw, Pat. You're still a dick for your Cas comment/pic. That was downright satanic. Bastard. I'm stressed and emo, dude)

Speaking of Supernatural, i was like, "Finally, i can read that one book i haven't read yet." But it ended up i did read it. Which was weird.

And i felt sad.

I need to screw my head on straight right now. 

Ramblin' Rose.

Oh, yeah. Things have been really peaceful in the household. Regarding me and Dad. Actually been...enjoyable. Lighter atmosphere. 

But the thing i was afraid of happening is happening.

With Dad, you give an inch, and he'll take a mile.

So now that we're on more or less companionable terms, i think he's starting to thing we're BFFs. At first, he treated me like an adult. Now he's starting to get...too buddy buddy. Like, blowing me kisses when we're watching House. Or whispering. "iiii'm gonna getchu. iii''mmm gonna getchu." Which, besides being kinda creepy, is being said like you would to a child.

Now me and mom have to sit down and discuss this with him, and the shit is going to hit the friggin fan. Watch the rare and elusive Davidus Fatherus shatter the illusion of peace.

In other news, tonight my friend Brian is hosting a Blu Ray movie at his place. Gonna watch Iron Man before we see IM2 in theaters next week.

Plus, this Saturday is Salt River Tubing. Thank Somebody.
yeah i've also been re-reading Good Omens, tyvm. It's my feel good book

So. Recipe for de-stressing at the moment

Good Omens.

Lotsa Jimmy Buffett

Music in general. I swapped my Zune HD for an iPod the other day. Lots more space...no need to be picky about what goes on it or not.

Oooh. YES! Loud people at the pool. That calls for some good gossip.

especially since one of them is a woman who adored my family...until she found out we were Jewish

Right, then. Back to the drawing board, i reckon.

Breathe in, Breathe Out, Move On

(Not that everything else hasn't been totally unrelated, but does anyone know why i can't freaking copy/paste stuff in a LJ Post in Google Chrome? Argh)

jay_moose: (Default)
 Just 'cause you don't taste the liquor, doesn't mean you should forget it's in there.

Took mom and dad out to dinner last night. 

Apologize for the lack of details, but. yeah. Coral Reefers are setting up shop in my head.

Oh my god. Jimmy Buffett living in my head. That would be awesome.

kinda already does. Crap. digression.

Ordered a baybreeze. Funny thing about baybreezes...every place makes them different. In this case, hint of coconut. But alot of places...you can at least taste the liquor.

So, right. Baybreeze. Bread. lots of bread. gnocci appetizer. water. big plate o' Aglio e Olivio. One more baybreeze. Two cannoli.

Had an awesome dinner. I think we were all in great spirits thanks to life's sudden tide change. Mom had just completed 3 1/2 years work of hard work and earned her Bachelor's online. (Hence, dinner). 

Got home, grabbed the dog's leashes, when everything kicked in. 

it was about 9:00 when i said, "Mom, i think my drinks just kicked in.'

Mom flew into action. I chugged a bottle of water. she gave me 2 excedrin.

I'll skip to collapsing into bed and falling asleep almost instantly..only to wake up soaked in sweat, nauseous at 12:30. Unable to go back to sleep for almost three hours.

The dogs were extra extra cuddly, though.

Anyway. I learned that if i'm slightly imbibed and have no one to talk to...i'll talk internet slang as an inner monologue.

It goes something like this:

Lauren is curled in bed. Petting the dogs

"FML. Just...FML. Oh, this succkss. NGL, pups."

No answer from them. whatever.

waking up 3 hours later.

"omg. FML TO HELL."

Then a steady stream of, "GDIAF, self. just..GDIAF."

True story. Dillon and Charlie can attest to it.

Not sure if they will, though, as Charlie had taken up residence sprawled over my chest, snoring, and Dillon had my legs pinned.

The not sleeping part sucked the most, though. 

I mean, how many reruns of Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Queer as Folk can one take?

It would seem, as one would say. i have lost the plot.

Oh, back to dinner. In the event of WE'RE GOING HOME, BITCHES, we had an agreement to keep it on the down low.

Then mom goes, "I have a confession. I may have told..someone. I'm sorry? I told Allison." a pause, then she held up four fingers.

It evolved into a game of tapping each finger, and guessing who she told.

Then, i raised two fingers. For some reason, this struck everyone as hilarious. Oh, alchohol.

One finger tapped: Erica. Well, that shouldn't even count, right? She's the whole epicenter to the moving back-adge.

That finger down left me sticking my middle finger up in the middle of a restaurant.

The second person being Pat. Well. Anyway

5 minutes later, i held up three fingers. I'd actually told Bonnie, my former boss from the cat shelter in NY.

Alright. Back to the present.

Things to do:

A) resume applying to colleges in NY

B) Talk to Erica about stuff.

C) Ask Jimmy Buffett to take a short intermission from my head.

Speaking of which...where's my encore CD? I believe i should have it by now.


jay_moose: (Default)
 "We're frightened of losing all we have, even if we succeed in winning this war"- Jim Beaver 

I have a tendency to joke about myself and my emotions. That i'm able to stand tall in bad situations because the medication cocktail i've been on for nearly a decade somewhat inadvertently makes it so.

I'm able to stand in the face of the deaths of those nearest  to me, while family and friends hold on and cry without breaking. Feeling muted.

I used to abhor change, and fight it tooth and nail, until change became a part of life, and instead of fighting, i just let the current take me.

Yesterday, i went with Mom to the Scottsdale Civic Center, where the Native Trails Native American Festival has been held. We watched the singing and dancing, and listened to a man who, to this day, relies on droughts and monsoons to feed his crops. About a time where attracting a woman wasn't about the size of your wallet, or the shine of your car, but how you carried yourself as a person. How healthy you were, how you cared for your horse.

As i listened, sprawled in the Arizona sun, i imagined a time where someone's life was Nature Nature Nature. And i was kind of...envious.

We went inside a bit, and found a small art gallery tucked away in the Civic Center. A plaque outside cautioned those entering that many of the artworks may not be suitable for anyone under 18 years old. This confused me, as the artworks all appeared to be by children.

They were. The point being, these artworks were by children created during art therapy sessions. Children who were mentally, emotionally, and physically traumatized and abused. These pieces of art were their outlets. Fear, solitude, loneliness. A 5 year old witnessing and depicting their mother being beaten by a bat by their father. Another drawing of a child's 'room', a dark closet with buckets so they could use the bathroom. A child being left to sleep on the streets. These were only a few, through the perceptions of children as young as 5 years old.

It was dark, it was graphic. The gallery was small, lighting muted. The ambiance never gave you the inkling of the festival outside. You were wrapped up in this world people don't want to know existed.

Next to me, Mom's eyes were bright and wet. Everyone of these anonymous children were hers. The types of children she looked after in school since i was little. These were her kids.

I think it was in this little gallery that i started to unravel

I broached my feeling of disconnect regarding Grandma's death. How the ever powerful realistic part of me knew she was gone, but the emotional part, the important part, that laughed and cried with Grandma, who helped her through the death of her beloved sister, who ate and teased and talked about the world. Who giggled over Hugh Jackman, and danced to Fame and Dancing Queen in Florida and NY. Who would get up when Grandma was visiting/living with us, and sneak into Grandma's room for a talk and a cuddle. Who shared the love of old movies and Frank Sinatra.

The important part of me.

I expressed my pressing confusion over our current life, after overhearing Mom comment on needing summer job. New York is not as close as it once was. We can't afford to leave. We talked about school for me, and jobs.

I know what i need to do, but i still feel...disconnected.

We discussed getting me a good therapist, then kinda laughed it off. In Arizona, there's really no such thing. Maybe i'm just spoiled from the therapist i had for 9 years in NY.

We went searching for one when we first moved here. We glossed over my issues. The woman looked me in the eyes and suggested i found God in my life.

That ended that.

By the way, I checked...just in case. And God is not on any flatbread

I was up Saturday night because Charlie was sick. The other day, Dillon let out a yelp, and has been stumbling around like he was just out of sedation. Then he got sick.

Last night, my parents wished me a good night, and hoped i got a good night sleep.

I didn't. Both dogs were up sick all night.

All. Night.

Right now, i'm reading Jim Beaver's 'Life's Like That.' It's a journal he compiled of emails and entries from when he learned within a 2 month period of time that his wife had advanced lung cancer, and his 2 year old daughter had Autism.

So, in the scheme of things. I could have it worse.
jay_moose: (Default)
Considering the fact that my apartment complex is being used as a set with Will 'freakin Ferrell, it's awfully quiet.

Dad's all, "LOOK! Look at all the trucks!"

My response, "Ooh, look! Roach Coach! Yum!"

Er. Right.

I miss feeling good.

I can has NY plz?

Oh, balls

Mar. 21st, 2010 02:39 am
jay_moose: (Default)
 Heather and Matt returned to NY tonight, which means i was liberated from sleeping on the couch, and returned to my bedroom.

Well, after 10 days of sleeping like a baby in NY, and 3 days of restful sleep on the couch in AZ, i joked to mom, "Watch. I'm going to revert and be unable to sleep."

I think she tutted at me.

Well, it's 2:35 in the morning. And i'm writing this. What does that tell ya?

Also, it doesn't help  that Dillon had an upset stomach before we went to dinner. When we got back, there was a pretty bad..smell. I thought it was..well..anyway. Been pretty consistent.

Anywho. Started that damn SPN fic. Hoorah Wee!Chester. 

Then...it warped. Now i've got a TW/SPN fic going on...and it's muuch easier to write.

Time to attempt sleep again, methinks. And Charlie has taken up residence on half my pillow

ETA: God called. He wants me to go to sleep.

I hate Toshibas. My laptop just overheated and shorted out. There goes a paragraph of writeringz. 

jay_moose: (Default)
Lessons learned since arriving back in AZ?

I possibly take AZ weather for granted...which is why i got so damn giddy when i was in the city last night. MildNYIsMild

Yes, Erica...that was giddy, mmkay?

Kitty cuddles are awesome, but sometimes you need someone to snuffle in your ears and bathe your face in kisses

But kitties are quieter.

In flight: Do not watch A Very SPN Christmas in close proximity to other people. Cause when you go 'ngah' and squirm, you might bump someone.

Be careful when popping gum out of the wrapper...especially if it goes flying behind you and hits someone.

2 novels will suffice for a plane ride.

NY pilots are amusing.

Naps are awesome.

'What if God was one of us?' What do you mean, what if?

"Okay, God has to come entertain the little people, now."- Erica. (I..can't remember the exact phrasing. I'm sorry. But it was better.)
jay_moose: (Default)
It was interesting, to say the least..in lieu of plans to move back to NY with at the end of May.

Tonight, we're in the kitchen, and mom says to me, "Listen, if things work out in NY while you're there...if you can manage okay...stay there. I'll send you the dogs."

She was rather....dead serious. She told me while i'm there...get a job...don't come back. Stay in AZ


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