Monthly Archives: October 2009

and so what if it is.

I believe only in coincidences.  I believe only in coincidences.  I believe only in coincidences.  I believe only in coincidences.  No, wait.  That’s not me.  I’ve strangely confused myself with someone I don’t particularly like.  Hrmph. I actually don’t believe in coincidences.

I had a few things lying around to “file” tonight.  I figured I had a few minutes before bed, so I’d get that done and off of my desk…an hour ago.  While I was in the packed filing crate, I thought, “hey, wouldn’t it be a good idea to get rid of a few things like empty folders and old stuff I obviously don’t need anymore?”  So I started to.  And I got all the way to the end before finding some things I’d both (a) been looking for, and (b) wish I had found sooner.

For starters, I knew it’d be there.  Because I said today that I was letting go.  Every time I’ve said I’m letting go, I find something else, another “sign.”  I meant it today when I declared it in the confines of my car, and then a few hours later I stumble on the one thing that could change my mind: the letter that didn’t [change my mind] nine years ago.  “Animalistic Womanizer” was an absolutely horrible writer when he was…what, 18? 19?…but I think it’s adorable.  No matter how long ago, this will always jump-start my heart, “I’m telling you, when you opened that door, that one split-second, you unleashed this smile; a smile that caused me to skip a breath.  That split-second cleared up the haze that blocked reality from fiction.”  It’s the kind of hope you hold onto.

But I don’t really know what hope is anymore.  One of the other things I found was a small compilation Heather V. had once put together of excerpts from my blog posts (we’re talkin’ early-t0-mid 2000s here) for a class project (I was pretty good material when I was super-fucked-up).  I’ve come full circle, it seems.  Here, lemme offer up an example of wtf is going on in my head:

I want out.  I don’t want the text messages.  I don’t want the IMs (see how old?).  Let me out.  I need to get my life together, my priorities straight.  I need to stop crying over my ex-boyfriend (Congrats, Chris! It wasn’t just you!).  I need to start putting school first.  I need to stop watching so much TV and start reading more.  I need to start going to the gym.  I need a hobby.  And hopefully, all of these things will lead me to a less insecure place where I can finally be okay with myself.  And maybe I won’t be so heart-broken anymore.

I’ll dig myself out of the grave I’ve stumbled into.  Sure, I’ll probably scrape my way up the side, close my eyes and wander around the rest of the graveyard chancing falling into yet another.  But that’s all I’ve been doing, so I don’t know anything else.

I used to think people that knew the way the human mind worked were just smart.  It turns out…to know something…you have to be really fucked up to begin with.

And now that I have taken a closer look, Heather sent it to me three years ago to the day (10/28/06).  If I had any doubt that finding these things tonight was a coincidence, I can toss that theory out the window (not that they’re open.  I mean, come on, it’s 45 degrees out there!).  Regardless of window situation, it saddens me to think I don’t write like that anymore.  I mean, it only saddens me slightly, because I’ve nothing so bad to dwell on.  Then again, maybe the notion that absolutely anyone can be reading this, including my parents, aunts & uncles, ex-boyfriends, (past &) present stalkers, nemeses and the like prevents me from fully disclosing my thoughts as I used to.  I did get a lot of crap for all that disclosure, like, my entire blogging life.

So, coming full circle.  Before, all I had was hope.  I had hope when the whole world had taken a big fat shit on my head, smeared it down my face and laughed.  Today, I just wouldn’t care.  I wouldn’t feel entirely helpless or hopeless; but I wouldn’t use it as a stepping stone to higher ground.  Or would I?  Isn’t that what I’ve done with everything, ever?  (Save for those two non-A grades, B & B+, I got over the Fall 2008 semester.  That was not a positive.  I am not happy about life during those months.  I’m sorry I let external factors influence school so much.  Bad Linda. BAD!)  But life shit on my head then, right?  And what did I immediately follow-up with?  I established a relationship with some of my family.  I got my grades back up.  I found the friends I figured I’d lost from being so estranged.   So maybe I do still work that way.  Do I just not talk about it?  Do I not remember how to be cryptic and sound wise at the same time?  What is different between me now and twenty-two year old me? (Please don’t say 5 years.)

Now I’m sitting here, not able to straighten out any of my thoughts, but feeling like I’m on some kind of “proper path.”  Except for giving up the one thing that might be right.  I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t know what else to do.  I still don’t know where my sense of appropriate dating etiquette went, or if and when it plans on coming back.  The easiest thing to do is get rid of the thoughts lest they become obsessive.

Maybe the differences between twenty-two year old Linda and twenty-seven year old Linda are the accomplishments.  I stopped crying.  I focus on school.  I hardly ever watch tv.  I read a lot.  The result has even been elevated self-esteem and mental sanity.  I think I can handle that.  If the trade-off is apathy and avoidance, do I accept those things, or do I make new resolutions to teach myself (will myself?) to care and try and allow myself to fail or think crazy thoughts or get hurt.

What’s the worst that could happen?  I’ve already experienced some seriously horrible shit.  Everything else should be dull in comparison.  …yet somehow, it never hurts any less, just differently.  In February 2006, I “grieved” for two weeks straight.  In October-December 2008, I grieved every few days, but it never hurt any less.  The up-side was also that I had next to zero post-relationship grief.  That part was kind of awesome.  I might have to say that despite the douchebaggery involved in the asshole breakup, I almost prefer it.  I know; I’m a horrible human being.  That’s part of what makes me so special.

Avoidance! Yay!

So do I make an effort?  Seems I didn’t reciprocate well enough the first (actually the fourth or fifth if you’re really keeping score at home) time, so I seem to be on the receiving end of “whatever happens, happens.”  But what “happens” if I adopt the same philosophy?  We’re both absolutely crazy, or as was once termed, the “same sick wavelength,” and that hasn’t changed in a decade.  Or has it?  I’m still on it.  I’m certainly not like the “other girls”…

 

“And I was sure you’d follow through
The world was turned to blue
When you’d hide your songs would die
So I’d hide yours with mine
All my words were bound to fail
But I know you won’t fail”

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Linda’s Life of Relativity

I am themed, so it has been proven though time.  This weekend marked yet another adventure in: Linda’s Life of Relativity.  What did I gain?  Health, sanity and a buttload of completed assignments.  What did I lose?  Little bro-time, a little respect, and a chance to watch game 2 of the ALCS from the CUSHY SEATS.

This weekend I sacrificed doing anything outside of the home (I’m lucky to have showered today) to not get more sick (sicker?).  What happened?  I got a different kind of sick.  I went from having a sore throat and neck ache to being completely stuffed and unable to breathe out of my nose.  I think I’ve sneezed a dozen times and I have finally caved in and brought a whole box of tissues up to my bedroom.  If this is the “worst” of it, I’ll take it over the Thursday-Friday hell.  I can’t breathe properly, but I have the same amount of Linda-energy like this, which is probably why I’m still up at 1:30 in the morning trying to lull myself to sleep with a glass of Riesling.  Oh, and as an aside, I really missed Riesling.  Good stuff, if is.  I got it from here, if you’d like to buy some.  It’s one of my favorite Long Island wines.  Anyway, still sick, but gonna live.

I miss Kellen SO MUCH though.  I actually dreamed of him last night.  I just hugged him and squeezed him and told him I missed him lots–my brain dealing with the “problem,” perhaps?  I so very much love that theory.

I did have a good weekend with my mom, though.  She told me a little while ago (we’re both up at this hour, crazies that we are) that she enjoyed our weekend time together despite my being sick.  Sadly, it took me being sick to have a weekend with my mother.  But I’m pretty sure she’s really just happy she got potato soup, apple cake & pumpkin seeds. (JUST KIDDING, MOM!  Oh, but seriously–stop typing ALL IN CAPS!)

Of course, I didn’t get to experience Cory’s famous…uh, some dish that I wouldn’t be able to pronounce let alone spell either.  No sense in getting the rest of my family sick or the Levines.  Plus, I found out his brother was sick.  Way to look out for my well-being!  Oh, I kid, I kid!  I’m actually in the process of making a molehill out of a mountain I made out of this original molehill about that whole thing anyways.  Casey knows what I’m talking about.  The rest of the world doesn’t.  But that’s okay, ’cause I probably give out too much information anyway.

AND NOW…without further ado (that part’s actually me making fun of Mike D. SORRY!)…may I present…for entertainment purposes only…

…the life (and death) of Winston:

in his natural state.

in his natural state.

Step 1: Gut the shit out of the punkin.

Step 1: Gut the shit out of the punkin.

Step 2: season & bake it's guts.

Step 2: season & bake it's guts.

Step 3: carve a bitch.

Step 3: carve a bitch.

Step 3: Light 'em up.

Step 4: Light 'em up.

Step 5: Give it a family.

Step 5: Give it a family.

Winston, as it were, is absolutely delicious.  I’m sure the squirrels will agree on October 31st.  Aaaand…that was the highlight of my day.  Actually, the A+ I got on my Natural Disasters exam was the highlight of my day, as was the kick-ass paper I wrote on The Perfect Storm, but Winston was up there.  I actually did feel a little like he was crying (see: Step 2), but that’s probably because I named him, so yeah, I’m a flake.

This flake is going to try to get some rest (read: play Bubble Shooter (more commonly known as SNOOD) on my Dashboard, which I realized actually existed thanks to Devyn).  Goodbye productivity, hello Snood!

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Productive Day from the PJs

I got. So much. Accomplished today.  Not everything on the list, but lots.

My sore throat has seemingly dissipated.  In its stead is a stuffy, runny nose, but I don’t feel as crappy as when I have a sore throat, so that made the day a little better.

To start my day, I read next week’s Environmental History stuffs, then emailed the professor because I can’t seem to distinguish the primary source(s) for the paper I have to hand in on Wednesday (it’s a one-pager, so I’m not too worried if I have to do it on Tuesday).  I haven’t heard back yet, so I’ve been able to stall on that thus far.

Otherwise, I typed up my notes from the week (which I usually do on class days when I get home, but circumstances this week did not allow me to after Monday), then I made some potato soup.  I cheated a little–the soup base/broth came from a Tastefully Simple box of powder and all I needed to do was “just add water” in essence.  Instead, I chopped up some potatoes, fried up some bacon and added those, then topped it with a little cheddar.  So I actually worked at it, rather than just mixing it with water and waiting a half hour.

After all that was over I read a bit of my Politics & Society work for the week (a little more than half; I will be finishing the other half upon blog completion) and successfully avoided napping.  Unfortunately, that took a little longer than expected, so I took another break to do all my dishes from the soup debacle.  Glimpsing the apples still sitting in the bag a week after Mike and I had picked them, I decided to try an apple recipe that called only for ingredients we had in the house so that my sick, lazy ass didn’t have to actually go anywhere today.  Fortunately, one of the first recipes I found was for apple cake consisting only of about 8 ingredients (sugar, flour, egg, baking soda, cinnamon, apples, salt, oil), so I started making that.  While I was chopping up the apples, my mother starts telling me about how as she flung her jacket onto the hook in the hallway, the metal piece that hangs off of it flew up & broke part of the light fixture on the wall.  My instantaneous reply was that she shouldn’t have to be throwing her jackets around and needed “Jeanette-sized” hooks for her things.  I told her I’d add hooks for her while the cake baked.  So I did.  But of course being in the foyer made me grimace at the horrid pile of recyclable papers that are strewn messily in the corner in a garbage pail.  And suddenly it hit me.  A shelf.  Above the pail were three shelves I made like four years ago, so why not a fourth?  Instead of trying to fit the papers in a pail, all we’d have to do is slide them in the bag on the shelf.  Easy!  Of course this made a project for myself, so in between checking to make sure my cake was done, I got some wood from the shed, set up the vice, and sawed me some shelf.  I then nailed it into the beams in the wall, and viola! Problem solved.  Additional bonus: we’re now using the pail for plastic/metal/glass recycling instead of a tiny little basket we were emptying every day.

Baking & Building.

The cake came out delicious, by the way, and only wound up using one of my big green golden apples.  I still have about ten more, so I might give apple crisp (or apple pie) a go tomorrow.  But on tomorrow’s agenda is also the stuff I didn’t get done today, namely my 3-paged review of A Perfect Storm.  Other than that (and the one-pager if the teacher responds to me) and carving up Winston, tomorrow should be my last “get well” day.  I was going to venture out to my father’s, but I think I’d rather be better first, just in case.  Plus, the weather is supposed to be quite horrendous tomorrow.  Not that that makes any real difference–the Yankee game was “supposed” to have been rained out tonight.

Oh, yeah, about that–I turned on the game in the 4th…and stayed through the 13th.  I’m impressed.  I realize now what those guys get paid for.  I’m still a litttttle sad that I didn’t go (I was offered a ticket), but five+ hours in the freezing cold + my own cold = pneumonia for sure.  Plus, I saved a bunch of money by switching to watching from home.

So in conclusion, today was a long, albeit productive day.  I deleted more “friends” from FB today as well.  I’m stopping at 222 for now.  That’s down from about 350, so I think I’m satisfied for the time being.  Sadly, a new friend was one of them.  I don’t know that I could consider him “good” for me.  Anyone who writes, “is baseball season over yet?” as a status-response to the masses’ pro-Yankee win statuses gets a thumbs-down in my book.  I used to say shit like that, and I did not like the person I was when I did.  There is no way in hell I’m surrounding myself with that.  Nu-uh.  Not a chance.  Remember, I’m kind of a snob.  If you want to be friends with me, you have to earn it. :p

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Has it really been a week?

Oh, it’s been a week, all right.  In more than one way.  They say “time flies when you’re having fun,” but I’m pretty sure it flies for other reasons too–like you’re sick, or you’re overwhelmed, or you’re busy, or you’re tired.  Time is an elusive bitch, I say.

Some new developments:

– I am in “love” with this song.  It’s probably emo, but I think it’s pretty.  It’s not exactly like me to like something like that (anymore), so the fact that I do keeps me hopeful.  I’ve a few reasons, none of which include the portrayal of love as a necessity.  I’ve never actually watched the video, despite the linkage, so whatever messages that might conjure has nothing to do with it either.  Basically, I guess it’s just a nice idea to find support and encouragement from someone.  I don’t know that I realized it before, but being called things like, “Ms. Future Shrink” and hearing, “yeah, but you’ve got it down; they’ll accept you,” no matter the actual or intended level of support behind them are just…well, nice.  I’m sad to say I’ve not really stood behind most things the men I’ve surrounded myself with were involved in.  Mostly because I personally didn’t find them very relevant and/or interesting, I suppose.  I’m not sure why though–shouldn’t “doing what you love” be enough?  Maybe I just never thought any of them were doing what they loved.  Then again, I find most people don’t.  They just…have jobs they end their days with beer and complaints about.

Speaking of beer and complaining.  I have a beef to dispel.  (I’m hoping the rant dispels it.)  Why do I feel as though the popular methods of connection between people are alcohol, music and whining?  I’ve several Facebook friends that never post anything other than music or lyrics or something about them.  I have others that talk about very little other than their next drinking binge (which is usually the day after the last one).  The whining comes in mostly due to the fact that music & alcohol are secondary vices to straight-up whining.  But, really, what is this?  I realize I’m just being super-judgmental — I suppose it’s like calling someone who was born/raised on Long Island “just another girl from Long Island,” which I evidently still haven’t gotten over — I should probably just chalk it up to “not having similar interests.”  I mean yeah, I like music, and yeah, I like alcohol (sometimes, and in moderation–those that don’t believe me, please refer to Linda’s Labor Day Developmental Disability), but to consider either of them the cornerstones of my being just makes me cringe.  Okay, I get it: I’m a snob.  So be it.  Guess I’ll add that to the list of things resulting from the ’07-’09 … experience that I’m ambivalent about. (There are three lists: 1. I’m grateful for this wonderful thing I learned; 2. I hate you because you severely fucked me up; and 3. I’m not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing–the “limbo” list.)  So at least I worked out my judgmental snobitude.  Well…done…self? Oh, and since this gets auto-posted to Facebook (like 20 hours after I write it, for some reason), I apologize to anyone who takes offense.  Yeah, I probably mean you, but don’t worry, I don’t not like you because of it.  Well, not yet anyway…I’ve also been on a friend-deletion spree.  I went from 350-something friends to 270-something in a week.  Be warned!

Other things I care to mention:

– I found turning myself off from the world kept me from over-stressing.  Having a test Monday, a midterm Wednesday and the GREs Thursday convinced me to turn my phone to “standalone mode” for two days, and it was glorious.  Not only did I not have to check it at all, I could forget all about it, which was much easier to do than I thought it would be.  I kind of want to make that an every other day thing or something.  I like not being contactable at all times. It makes me feel less like a machine and more like a person, despite the lack of connection to other persons.

– I got sick and took the GREs on the same day.  So with less studying, more stress, and a fever I scored 50 points higher on it than I did when I studied for three weeks and took it before school started up for the semester.  I find this interesting.  I’m still dissatisfied with the score, but I see it this way: if I don’t get into any schools this year (which I’m mentally prepared for, just in case), I will have a year.  And in that year, I will stay at the speech office (obviously), study the right way and rape the GREs as well as do research and volunteer work up the wazoo.  I’m hoping to add in a small social life as well (not that I’ll have the fundage for that).  So long as I can defer those undergrad loans, I should be set.  And on top of it all, I’ll have spun a negative (non-acceptance) into a positive (the opportunity for creating a better applicant).   I like this attitude.  I wear it well, and I look good in optimism. 🙂

There are, as usual, a hundred other things I wanted to write about, but can’t remember.  I’ll do a quick day-by-day thing:

Saturday–PUNKINS & APPLES & DONUTS — oh yes.  Even though Mike and I took the very narrow, dirt path, scary hill roads (thanks, Jane!) to get to Fishkill Farms (which we later found out is right off of 84), it was worth it.  Did you know when you go to an apple orchard you’ll have more fun if you climb the trees and partake in apple fights (the two are not mutually exclusive either)?  It’s true.  Man, was I missing out.  Also, they make their own incredibly delicious donuts.

Sunday–was not even a little exciting.  I spent the day hungover & trying to do homework.

Monday–Drugs & the Brain test on Animal & Human Study Methods.  21/25.  Coulda been better; coulda been worse.

Tuesday–Worked Lake Success, studied a TON for my Environmental History midterm.

Wednesday– (Hopefully) rocked the midterm, slept 10-5.

Thursday–Studied for the GREs at 5 a.m., got sick at 7 a.m.,  took them at 8:30 a.m., worked for a few & went home early.  Stared at the TV for two hours, then slept for 10.

Friday–Left early ’cause of the weather, still arrived to school late, forgot my notebook and my computer (took notes on the back of my volunteer application), went to work, went back to school to have my PPD read (negative, btw) and be told my “cold” will get worse before it gets better.  Hooraids.  Slept through half the Yankee game, watched Eddie Izzard on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, started to feel crappier, and now am wide awake at 2:30 in the morning.  If and when I ever finish this blog I’ll be reading Nature’s Economy until my eyes close, which hopefully won’t take long.

Regardless of all the crap that went on today, I maintain that life doesn’t suck.  Sure, I had to cancel family plans, ALCS playoff tickets, and a “date” (it’s just easier to call it that), but I could have the flu, or a virus and be unable to function at all without drugs.  I haven’t taken any (yet); my remedy is to rest, as I did when I got home and will do all day tomorrow (well, I’ll be doing homework, but it’ll be with tea in my PJs).  I’m going to try to make something with the bag o’apples sitting in my kitchen, and maybe carve up Winston (that’s what I’ve named my punkin’).  I feel yummy roasted punkin’ seeds will make me happy.

Oh! And here’s some snapshots from the past week-ish:

Fall foliage begins at SBU

Fall foliage begins at SBU

Wasn't this red a mere week ago?!

Wasn't this red a mere week ago?!

Weird angle of a weirdly shaped hospital (SBU).

Weird angle of the sun on a weirdly shaped hospital (SBU).

Look! My Pumpkin Spice Latte is the same color as my sweatshirt!

Look! My Pumpkin Spice Latte is the same color as my sweatshirt!

It must have been Native American week.

It must have been Native American week.

In all seriousness, I learned about Native Americans in Environmental History, the following day in Psychology of Prejudice, and then two days later the school on the corner had this outside.  WTF?!  Do all the teachers in the state collaborate on their lesson plans?

In the other tree, a Mike lurks, armed with apple-ammo.

In the other tree, a Mike lurks, armed with apple-ammo.

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The Music Stylings of Ms. Bess Rogers

Whom I attended middle/high school with. 🙂

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Political Debate

Rich and I had it out on FB yesterday/today.  I think the world deserves to know:

Rich: How the fuck did Barack Obama win the Novel Peace….I guess by those standards writing this it puts me in line to win the Pulitzer Prize.

Linda: On the next B*&@^ & K&!$#: Rich sarcastically comments that he is equally as qualified to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize as Linda rolls her eyes and explains eleven times that even though the President didn’t think he deserved it, it is the notion of peace and anticipation of peaceful future global interactions that allowed the award to be given to him.

Rich: Rich then realizes that Lindas eye rolling is a sign of demonic possession. “You know Lin” Rich says in a contempt laden voice, “I just think if you win a prize it should be for something you’ve done…..not for an idea or a plan. Take you for example Ms. Kudla” Rich continues, now getting a bit agitated. “you plan on finishing your schooling and getting your degree…..well here’s you diploma. After all it is the thought that counts.”

p.s. what does that say to people like Sima Samar who has done great works trying to liberate the woman of Afghanistan over the last year.

Linda: “Well played, Mr. Bautz,” replies Lin, rolling her eyes sarcastically for extra effect. “It certainly is very wishy-washy to hand out a prize for accomplishments-to-be; however, Obama has already strengthened ties with other nations and will, by term end, have fulfilled numerous accounts of “peace” without a doubt. The NPP is in that way an insurance policy on his follow-through.” With a smile, she adds, “and if I weren’t paying hundreds of thousands of dollars, or what appears to be that large a sum of money, and millions of other people weren’t also doing the same exact thing as I, and I, in fact, had influence over any kind of public policy, then yes, I would expect a diploma in advance, if I were well-spoken, intending and culminating.” She then breathes for the first time in a minute, a long, deep sigh of exasperation. fin.

Rich: Rich takes this all in then speaking slowly and clearly so Lin can understand. “The Nobel gang just suicide bombed themselves. Gore, Carter, Obama, soon Bill Clinton. See a pattern here? They are all leftist sell-outs. George Bush liberates 50 million Muslims in Iraq, Reagan liberates hundreds of millions of Europeans and saves parts of Latin America. Any awards?” Rich says “Obama gives speeches trashing his own country and for that gets a prize, which is now worth as much as whatever prizes they are putting in Cracker Jacks these days. It is a greater embarrassment than losing the Olympics bid. And with this ‘award’ the elites of the world are urging Obama, THE MAN OF PEACE, to not do the surge in Afghanistan, not take action against Iran and its nuclear program and to basically continue his intentions to emasculate the United States. They love a weakened, neutered U.S, and this is their way of promoting that concept.” the end (I’m American)

Linda: “No- well, yes, of course you’re American- but what you actually are also is afraid of change. Obama isn’t trashing his own country; he’s recognizing its weaknesses as he understands that’s a necessary step in making any kind of positive progress. Most Republicans want to *overhaul* the health care system and start from scratch. Why? Because they don’t want to admit weakness and change what doesn’t need to be wiped clean and begun again. That’s like saying, “oops, I screwed up a relationship. Think I can be born all over again?” No. You recognize what your weaker points are, and you strengthen them. Are you considered bashing yourself? Of course not; you’re not a self-deprecating ass. And the idea of a weakened United States is not what anyone is going for. I find it entertaining that the “no big government” party wants to let its own people fend for themselves but ‘save’ every other country in the world. It’s like caring about the next door neighbor, but deciding that you own son, daughter and siblings can figure things out for themselves. Sure, you need to be prepared in case Harry the Crazy Lawnmowing neighbor gets hold of some Plutonium, but everyone is scared of stuff like that Republicans, not just you. There’s no need to go on some super my-penis-is-bigger-than yours offensive; that’s what made them mad in the first place. Try sharing your toys, or diplomacy. What are you going to do about those guys that don’t want to hear it? Prepare. You can’t change other people and places (if psychology has taught us anything), but you *can* change yourself.”

I don’t think I want to play this game anymore! LOL

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I miss WoW.

No, it’s true.  I can’t find the conscience to play while I have mountains of grad school stuff and current undergrad classes stuff to do.  And now I’m looking to get some volunteer work in at South Oaks, or the SBU hospital, if anyone will let me.  But anyway, I should have been asleep like two hours ago, but instead somehow I am watching a group wow.com-ers do the PTR instances Forge of Souls & Pit of Saron.  It makes me want to play, but playing means little.  I want to be good at it, and I just don’t have that kind of time …or ambition, apparently.  I leave it in my mental “someday” pile, but I just don’t know if I’ll ever get around to that stuff.

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