I spoke this entire “blog” in the car yesterday morning, but it’s definitely not going to make it to print, mostly due to the fact that it was too long, but also because some of it was inappropriate. It had some bitterness in it, though disguised as “reasoning” and “logic.” In short, I had wondered what came first – the infamous dinner or the B-date. I attempted to determine if one led to the other, ’cause I’ve never really been the type to act out, especially with something morally incorrect, without some sort of justification. I could have easily used the dinner to justify my actions, but at the same time I could have used the horrible circumstances at the time as well. I wish I could recall; I feel like that was a big important piece of November. It doesn’t make me any less guilty, but really, nothing will ever make any players in that game any less guilty.
Anyway, this all came about from one of the parties I was at over the Labor Day weekend. I vowed to look (and be) my best in order to shove it in someone’s face, but as that never works out, I instead wound up attempting to drink him away, then going home with him. It wasn’t nearly as slutty as it sounds, though I’m sure it’s caked in sluttery regardless. He’s my annual (or bi-annual? what’s the one that means I skipped a year?), which is okay with me because if he turned around tomorrow and proclaimed his undying love, I’d marry him in a heartbeat. But that won’t happen, and we’d be divorced six months later anyway. Fortunately, I’m a stronger person now than ever before. I didn’t and don’t expect to hear from him again until we wind up in the same place at the same time once more. I don’t fault him for it entirely; that’s who he is. And me? I don’t have time for a guy, so it was absolutely perfect. It was familiar, it was fun, and somehow most importantly, I don’t have to up my number by one! *sigh* Though again, would marry without a second thought.
Anyways, the whole Labor Day weekend bit was a smash. I did my little bits of homework in between BBQs and family, and still had a smidgen of relax time. The Yankees game yesterday was a blast. I’m highly surprised my brother managed to sit through 9 full innings of baseball. Thank you, NYY, for getting all those runs in the 8th, so the game wasn’t 102 innings, especially what with the double-header and all. And also, Swish? You are now ranked #2 on Linda’s Favorite Players list. No worries, Jorge, you’ll always be #1 in this girl’s heart. 😉
I made the mistake of taking this incredibly long nap tonight. I think that’s something I have to do after a night at dad’s. Their pull-out cot is just so springy that it’s hard to get a good night’s sleep. I did, however, borrow dad’s truck to go grab some late-night (okay, 10 p.m.) chicken nuggets, and I must say — I want a truck. No, seriously. After I get my city-wind over with (my “city-wind,” by the way, is the super desire to live in the city some more before going small-town country), I’m owning a friggin’ truck. And a dog, yes. And I may or may not listen to country music; I haven’t decided yet.
For now, though, I’ll just stick with what’s going on. I dropped my two research credits, and will pick them up last semester. I’ll then have a few choices. I can take a) five classes and do the two supervised research credits; b) four classes, two credits of supervised research and three credits of independent research under which I would have to write a paper with Sue for publication; or c) take six classes and do absolutely no research work. I will need 17 credits to graduate in May 2010, but I guess I will know better come that time what will follow (grad school-wise, if any).
So right this moment, I have to read about 25 pages of Psychology of Prejudice and force myself to get at least five hours of sleep. That nap I just took was almost four hours long, so this might prove difficult. But alas, I shall try. Until the ‘morrow, good peoples.