It's 1:15.

And I am sitting here again at my trusty computer watching 'The Office' on TV Links, and wishing that I didn't have my public policy class tomorrow. This is not only because I dislike this course but also because I don't want my Senior Project class to happen immediately afterwards.

Mind you I like Senior Project, I just hate having to propose my next project considering it will be over critiqued and changed beyond what it is that I wish to accomplish.

Look at the girl who is never happy with any situation and mock her please.

Death to Public Policy! (or at least those who study it.)

I rant about these folks, only because I know a few and am actually taking a public policy course. Actually I really only have one complaint.

Public policy courses turn some of the most fascinating subject matter into an hour and a half powerpoint presentation chock full of some of the worse slides ever published, (quality wise that is.) Even the interesting articles can't save this one...

The Beginning of the End, (sort of.)

I'm a senior doing the landslide into May. It's the first day of school, (all be it a half day due to Dr. MLK Jr.) and what did I do? Sleep in and not attend my first class and only class today. Why? I'm in denial about being back and this being the last go at a semester at Carnegie Mellon University. This shouldn't be a big deal - but it is.

If I unpack and put everything away, should I set on to campus, if I talk to my professors about this semester - It will kick off the small snow ball that becomes the giant crushing ball of ice that is the Panic of May 20th. Cap and gown must be ordered, the ring must be fitted, the letters of recommendation must be collected, a job must be secured, and I become an alumna.


So I'm living this week like the Devotchka line ringing in my ears and heart"
"We've come a long long way, Let's put it off for one more day,"

Last night I think I had a date, but I'm not sure. Drinks were bought for me, laughter was prevalent, and we were both pretty buzzed by the end of the night. I think though, that my smoking really bothered the poor boy and I need to be more serious about quitting before I go back out there again. I just get nervous and reach for the comfort of a long drag on my Camel Filters. I've never felt more unattractive then noticing his occasional face or hiding his nose from the smoke. It was proabably how I looked as a little girl when my dad smoked in the car.

I've mentioned before that there are no such thing as resolutions and so I'm not making one to quit smoking. Instead I'll take it one day at a time and just not smoke on this day, hoping to not smoke the day after but not concerning myself with that now. Wish me luck.

Late Night Cable Be Damned!

I swear I loath and love that ten minute afterglow after watching any film adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, (this morning's being the most recent adaptation.) I hate the brief childish belief in love and storybook romance, but it is in no way beneath me to giggle and squeal throughout the whole thing. It's just like reading the books... you come away wanting swans in your lake, blossoms in your trees, and a mrs. in front of your new last name. Oh, let's not forget the happily ever after as well!

Ugh, I'm making myself sick.

Ah High School!

It is the greatest motivator of B horror films. Some of my fellow arty outcasts and nerds from AV club gathered their talents and created Tamera, a 2005 horror flick about an 'ugly' nerdy chick who's interest in witchcraft helps her come back from the dead after a prank in a remote hotel room goes wrong. This is every girls dream. To show up one morning, (hopefully not after coming back from the dead,) to blow everyone out of the water with "bangin'" looks and a smart comment for the mean assholes... and yet:
Some annoying clichés that need attention:

All popular people listen to shitty hip-hop and have no real taste in music.
I would like to think that even a real asshole likes something beyond generic one hit wonder hip-hop tracks. I won't go so far as to say they are Mozart scholars, but maybe a little Radiohead or something...

All sports related activities in high school breed asshole bullies.
Everyone has met a prick that became full of himself through other means - not just from being great at sports.

Virgins are nice. Popular girls are sluts.
I've found that it is possible to be quite the opposite. Virgins can be quite cranky for obvious reasons. To be popular I think can also mean that you've never gotten any. Look at the movie Saved! Many Moore and her crew made it quite obvious that they were saving themselves and they were the pissiest chicks in that movie.

English teachers are hot and sensitive.
In the second grade the teaching assistant in my class was hit on by all the single moms. His name rhymed with handsome which wasn't lost on these women. Being only six I wasn't old enough to appreciate this. When I grew older I've never had a hot teacher. Ever. I feel ripped off.

The whole, 'she was ugly - now check out that bod trick,' is getting old.
It would be nice to have a normal looking girl remain normal looking. Not severely ugly to smokin' hot. Not super unfortunate to the pinnacle of success. Just normal... to normal. I can see the benefit symbolically, yet I can't appreciate the underlying message of hotness equals acceptance. It feels good in theory but it's actually quite lame...

That Special Time of Year.

One of the true tests of faith is the willingness to forgive. This is something that I have struggled with more than anything else this year and yet it seems as if I will continue to battle the rage and discomfort brought on by the month of January 2006 for a little bit longer.

I have never made whole hearted resolutions for the new year before. I think it has something to do with the fact that it's bullshit to treat the Roman Calendar's first day as an excuse to change. I will however make an exception this year. This year, I'm going to make a better effort to forgive. I want to forgive all the little things and the big things caused by others and myself. Maybe then the anger and aggressiveness will begin to pass.

The mission behind this electronic log was never to share my thoughts with the world, (ironic right?) - rather to just throw words out into space so that they didn't rot inside of my mind and heart anymore. Now that I'm comfortable with this reckless form of expression I need to become more constructive and start to fix things.

Pittsburgh Photo Essay.

This was done a couple months ago. Many Kudos and Much Credit.

My apartment bathroom.
Fifth and Craig.

Mellon Institute elevator.

Lecture auditorium.

In front.

After an Early Sundown.

I woke up in bed at four in the afternoon today and decided to stay there until close to eight. I must say vacations are wonderful because I really don't feel guilty about this. Honestly the biggest highlight of my day was going to Barnes and Noble to buy another collection of crossword puzzles.

After parking the car I got out to realize I didn't even think of bringing a jacket and secretly thanked global warming for the cool night.

Looking across the lot I noticed that the only people that frequent strip malls at this hour are highschool aged assholes with the inability to get alcohol during their Christmas break. I don't think that I will ever understand what makes people my age and younger feel deviant inside of a bookstore chain. They play Sarah Fucking McGlocklin over the sent of preppy coffee for Christ's sake - there's nothing 'bad ass' about that.

I peered around the usual corners in the store, (new paperback release then on to language reference, turn back and glance at fiction, pass through periodicals and debate for five minutes in games.) After choosing my book I moved through the maze of tables in the cafe and got in line. I took one look behind the counter and decided that coffee would only be a cup of lukewarm disappointment and mentally decided on an americano. It was then I noticed that one of the women in front of me was packing a handgun on her hip. It brought me back to my research about handguns in my attempt to obtain a license for my own. I started to feel as if i looked like I was making a big deal about seeing a woman with a handgun and became frustrated at my possible obviousness - I just was really excited but refrained from bugging this poor woman with questions.

I need to pause now and rant just a little about the employees and customers of Barnes and Noble Cafe. First off, I'm tired of people complaining or not being able to drop the idea that it's not a Starbucks. I believe that B&N really shot themselves in the foot with this one seeing as no matter what state I'm in people always bitch when they find out they can't use their gift cards there, or they don't understand how it isn't a fucking Starbucks. As for the folks on the other side of the counter, part of me feels for them, (after even a week in food service anyone would,) but they are always inept in some way. Maybe I just have a short fuse, but if something is on your menu - if you offer certain options - then don't give me that fucking look when I order a double tall soy vanilla latte or whatever drink item I'm willing to purchase. I've even had a woman roll her eyes at me and I swear I wanted to inject some snarky tone into the moment but no - instead I throw a joke in the tense air as my weakness for the reaction formation defense mechanism calls for.

Anyway.

My intention to go to places like this bookstore cafe is to just get out of the house and really just be alone. I must say though there is something about being alone in public that makes you feel more comfortably isolated than being at home. I sat for an hour and a half working on the first puzzle in my new book and listening to different cell phone rings pierce the bland store soundtrack. It never fails to surprise me when the older gentleman's phone goes off with a very loud cut of a crappy pop tune.

I wasn't really to go home, mainly because I never get use of the Tahoe so I drove to another shopping center close to my house. I don't like AJ Gator's in the least, and I also don't like walking in and immediately laying eyes on someone I know from school. I shuffled to the bar and ordered a Diet Coke hoping that this girl at the end of the bar would continue to focus on her obscenely large portion of nachos and her very preppy looking group of friends and not try to remember who I was.

Since diet Pepsi is not the same as diet Coke I went with a Red Bull and sat there working more on the crossword puzzle and hoping that no one would notice I hadn't come home yet.

By the time I'd left, I found myself actually worried that there was a cop in the parking lot waiting for someone to walk out to their car and ran scenario after scenario through my mind of getting pulled over - after not having a single drop of alcohol.

And so went the night.

One for the Books.

This ability to not get the slightest bit of rest is obnoxious. I won't go into the details of my sleep patterns but let's just say before tonight I hadn't the slightest clue as to the plot of the HBO series Entourage and now I'm more caught up then I should be.
I didn't feel like staying in this evening but I really didn't want to go out. The truth is I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to spend the holiday with - so I spent it by myself. I hate the bullshit of watching the ball drop in New York City, (it's not exciting, I think about the poor idiots freezing in the cold, and I'm not a fan of NYC.) Instead, I was up in my room playing solitaire on my pocketPC and barely noticed the passing of the hour. From 23:58 all of a sudden it's 4:46 and I don't feel like I missed out. I guess my ambivilance is what keeps me from closing my eyes and drifting off as well. It doesn't matter whether I'm awake or asleep.
I will say it was nice to get a few text messages from people. It's nice to think that in some random bar or house party someone will think beyond the cheap box wine and shitty music to connect.

I'm not making any real points here this evening. I feel that my more enlightened moments come to my when I'm far from my computer so I'll wrap this up and hope that sleep will visit soon before I start making breakfast and going on a Starbucks run.