Hopefully I'm not getting sick. I cannot get sick. I hate being sick, for one, but I also have all sorts of wunderbar plans for this week!
So, no, sick is not an option.
I had a dream the other night that I was back in college. And I failed a class.
It was terrifying.
The professor (who was not a professor at my college in the real life) doesn't return any papers all semester. But at the end of the term, hands me a massive tome of all my essays and papers with a giant 0 on top.
To first understand how horrifying this is, you have to understand what a perfectionist to the point of masochism student I was. I graduated two colleges with a 4.0. Perfect grades are how I know how good I am. Not just good, but how hard I work and how freaking brilliant. Yes, I realize it's a little pathetic how much I needed those marks to validate me. But there it is.
But I'm not without fault. I've had tough courses before. My last semester of college kicked my ever-lovin ass. I had the toughest courses of my life with the best professors I could take while battling homesickness for Europe (I'd just gotten home) and I kept getting sick. But I pulled through and did well.
So the second part of the horror is that in the dream, I didn't find out I was failing until it was too late, until it was out of my control. *shudder*
I wonder what it means? I'm pretty sure that I don't even want to know.
I drug my headachy ass to the coffee shop today to get some writing done and to just get out of the house.
And wouldn't you know? My favorite cluster of firemen is back!
So even though my head is a writhing mass of misery and pain, my view is quite nice.
I love firemen.
(I originally typed "I love fireman." Which not only made me sound like Tarzan but made me sound like I love a certain fireman in particular, which is not the case. Well, I do love my father who is a retired fire fighter, but obviously not like that. Ew.)
With the exception of my father (because EW), firemen are pretty to look at. That is why I love them. Duh.
So. I am nervous to share this next tiny tidbit of information. Nervous that I'll jinx it. Nervous that someone in particular will read it and steal my little spark of excitement.
I may have met someone.
Okay, I did, in fact, meet someone. But I'm just not sure yet that he's "someone," ya know? SOMEONE. But for now, it's exciting.
I met him at karaoke on Christmas. He was nice, didn't hit on me. You know how I hate to be hit on. And we're supposed to go out this week. I hesitate to say more and I honestly don't know much about him yet.
Also until I know more about him, his bloggy nickname will just be the New Guy until I can come up with a more apt moniker.
Now what do girls in Portland wear on dates in the middle of winter? Flannel?
Also: this is another reason I can't get sick.
My camera died. Died. Dead. Deceased. Mort.
It's terribly sad. And while she was showing a few signs of illness, this came as a total shock. Your condolences are much appreciated. In lieu of flowers, please just send cash.
When she first died, I had a mini-breakdown. What would I do without a camera? I am an emeffing photographer. I need it. How will I photograph my jewelry to put on Etsy? HOW? My camera phone just won't cut it.
Panic. Utter and sheer panic.
Never mind that I didn't need one more expense. Fucking cat cancer.
My dad said he'd give me a couple hundred dollars, lard love him (it does. my dad loves the fatty foods.). So I hopped on ebay. I love ebay.
I first spotted an insanely fantastic deal on a used Nikon SLR which I bid on. But I was not privy to the whole bidding bot thing. So I lost in the final 5 seconds, I swear.
At which point I threw my computer across the room in fury (you wouldn't like me when I'm angry) and now I need a new mac too. Just kidding. I didn't do that. I would never throw mac.
This whole bidding bot sniper shit really pisses me off. It's really unfair. Really. I never stood a chance.
Anyway, so I spotted another awesome deal on another used Nikon (and with TWO lenses!). Better deal really than the other one. But I had two choices: try to bid and get a better deal (but potentially lose and I couldn't find another camera I could afford that wasn't ass.) or pay a teensy bit more outright and call it mine. I did the latter and hopefully of hopefullies I'll get it soon.
I'm watching the mail like Charlie Brown waited for valentines. What's the saying? A watch mailbox never delivers? No? Hrm.
Maybe it'll arrive on the same day my gold vibrator does! Like my very own version of Christmas.
If that happens, I'll buy a Chirstmas tree and start believing in Santa. I mean, he did bring me a cute guy on Christmas. Maybe I should start believing in the creepy fat man.
Before I forget, Jeté has her next chemo treatment on Thursday at which point they'll measure her tumor and see if it's shrinking. It might be wishful thinking but I swear that it's getting smaller. I swear. Please send all your good energy that this works and that it's shrinking!
This is also a good time to remind you that I still have an Etsy shop with all the proceeds benefiting Jeté's cancer treatment. You didn't forget, did you? Lost of goodies available (even cuff links) and I even do custom pieces. Please check it out and tell your friends!
Or, even though I know it's rough with the holidays, the option to donate to her care is still up in the right corner of this blog.
Love you guys!
I want a baby sloth.
This makes me laugh so hard! I've been watching it over and over and giggling uncontrollably.