And more....

Ryter's not online and not answering his phone or cellphone, and it' pouring outside so I can't go anywhere. So I guess I can't do anything but write more.

Part of the problem I have is I feel like everyone is really judgemental of my relationship with Ryter. Like, my family like him, btu they don't seem to like that I am dating him, or at least they didn't like it at one point. And Vivacia and that group don't even seem to LIKE him. So I feel like any time I complain about some minor problem we're experiencing, they're going to chalk it up as another strike against him. I want them to like him, and like us and want us to be together. That's what I want and what makes me happy-- to be with him. But they seem more concerned about stupid little details than if I'm happy.

Like my dad, who seems to take offense to the fact that Ryter is still being supported by his dad. Despite the fact that Ryter and his dad have a very different relationship than Daddy has with any of us, and Ryter's dad decided a while ago that Ryter should get a chance to just write for a year after school, to get a shot at doing what he loves for profit. Basically, Ryter's dad deciding to support him for a year and let him work as a writer is the EXACT SAME THING as Daddy trying to get Shrewd to go to grad school and offering to support her through it so she could get a shot at her dreams. The only difference is Daddy only supports dreams that he approves of, like getting Shrewd a master's in math so she can teach, and not getting her a master's in history like she wants. Ryter's dad wouldn't support Ryter if becoming a writer was a hopeless long shot but it's NOT, Ryter's work is better than most of the stuff you can find in Barnes' and Nobles and he's very dedicated to it. Ryter's dad has simply decided that Ryter can pursue his own dreams, instead of what his parents want for him. Daddy could learn from that, but he won't.

And my mom, who, lacking anything else to complain about, has decided she doesn't like that Ryter has health problems. Like that he needs medication to sleep and he has bipolar disorder and anxiety issues. Because she's concerned that that would mean our children would be unhealthy. Of course, by that logic, she should be sabotaging any chance of romance that Shrewd ever has, because Shrewd's got a few health issues that can be passed genetically. Or even my own, because hey, I have unipolar depression and knee problems and a tendency towards obesity and a 50% chance that a kid of mine will have polycystic ovarian syndrome and will be infertile. For some reason she (and my grandmother too) seem to think that I should be choosing a guy based on their health. What they don't understand is that a) Ryter is far more emotionally stable than EITHER of them, my dad, my sister, OR me, despite his diagnoses; b) I can't sleep without meds half the time too; c) He is managing his health issues and mental issues and handles anything new as it comes up, so there won't be any nasty surprises; d) My daughters will have unipolar depression no matter WHAT because all the women in my family have it and I'd much rather raise them with a guy like Ryter who is supportive of mental healthcare, knows what warning signs to look for, and would help a kid get help early enough so that my children can be as stable and successful as him instead of emotional wrecks like my mom.

One of the reasons I left my last therapist was at one point I was really stressed out. Ryter was really sick and upset and needed me a great deal and I got kind of scared, I had this panic moment where I thought I needed to get out of the relationship. I get these all the time when I am with people, they are a problem with ME and not with the people I am with. It's because I can't trust people very easily, and this was before I was as close with Ryter as I am now. Anyway, I expressed both this "excape" feeling and that I also was feeling like I couldn't leave him because he needed me too much to my therapist and her immediate reaction was "get out now." She didn't try to figure out WHY I might be having this reaction, or have me talk to him or anything, she jsut told me to get out. I am SO glad I ignored that advice.

Ryter is a great guy. I know what issues my friends deal with with their S/Os and I have none of them. When I am upset, Ryter has NEVER brushed me off. He's always right there for me. When I need comfort, he's quick to provide. He gies me advice when I need it and doesn't when I don't; he rarely talks down to me and when he does, he realizes it and apologizes. He respects me, loves me, and treats me like I want to be treated. He's never hit me or verbally abused me; even if he says something as a joke he's quick to apologize after if he thinks it upset me. I look at the relationships my friends have had and I think, wow, I have it made. And yet my family and friends all seem to focus on whatever negatives they can find. He's too "metal" looking, he listens to the wrong kind of music, he needs to shave, he calls me too often and shouldn't need to talk to me every day (All of which are positives in my eyes. I love his beard and his music and his clothes and talking to him every evening). He needs to become independent of his dad, he has health problems (neither of which are hard to deal with and both of which he is working on, and the mental health issues are minor compared to your average American's issues). Once, just once, I want someone to meet him and see us together and say, wow, he seems like such a great guy, you guys are so cute together, I hope you last forever. But the only people who say that are his friends and family, never mine. And they wonder why I am drifting away from them.

I found the guy who is perfect for me. We work well together, we complement each other. We have a wonderful relationship, despite the ups and downs around us, and we're both so committed to making it work that I think we can weather anything. I will NEVER find a better guy for me than him. Such a guy simply does not exist, or if he does he's probably dating some movie star or millionaire's daughter. I love him and he loves me. Do we have issues? Sure. But I'd rather have our issues than anyone else's.

And all of this I could handle except for one thing-- the lack of approval from my family and friends is putting a strain on our relationship. It bothers both of us that I can't get anyone's approval and what's more, it bothers Ryter that I won't stand up to my parents and that I feel like I need their approval at all. But is it too much to ask that my family likes my boyfriend? Is it too much to ask that they want me to be with someone simply because it makes ME happy, not because he's someone THEY pictured me with?

And now I am put in an unfortunate position, because there is something they do not seem to understand-- if they force me to chose, I will chose him. I want them to care about me, and about him, and I want to stay close to them. But if I have to chose between my family and Ryter, Ryter comes first. I will sever all ties to them if that's what it takes to be with Ryter. But I really, really don't want to have to do that.

There is always one person on the Dover bus that is about 50 years old and sketchy as hell

Good news. I got an appointment, not with a psychiatrist, but with a psychiatric nurse, for March 14 (about a month sooner than expected). I know nothing about her except what the internet can tell me, which is that she can prescribe medication, but also provide therapy, that she works with people who have depression and anxiety, and that she does Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which Ryter has suggested would be good for me.

If this works out, I won't need to have a psychiatrist separately, which would be good because the only one I could find that I thought I would be comfortable with (I am incredibly sexist about these things) won't take any patient under age 21. Now, I get not taking kids if you don't really feel qualified to work with them, but 21 seems arbitrary. 18 would eliminate parental controls/high school and 25 would be more likely to mean the individual acts like an adult... but anyway.

If it doesn't, I'll have to find another psychiatrist, and I'll probably try to get an appointment with this one therapist whose office is within walking distance of my dorm. That would be awesome, no hour commute. She also does CBS and deals with depression and anxiety, but she can't do meds, so she wouldn't be able to manage my care fully. She might be affiliated with a psychiatrist, however.

I have a few other prospects, all carefully plotted on my Google Maps that outlines the bus stops. However, alas, this first appointment is on a Friday... at 8:00. Like in the morning. With a fifteen minute bus ride to drop me off at 7:15 and pick me up at 9:45.

So yeah. 6 AM wakeup, that'll be fun. Hopefully future appointments can be at more reasonable hours, and hopefully I can arrange to have my car on campus for Friday, because I really, really don't want to be on the bus that early before classes start...

Conclusion-- I think

First of all, I'm on medication again, and I will be seeing a doctor back in Londonderry every two weeks until I can make an appointment with a psychiatrist. It's not ideal, but I don't have to see my creepy pediatrician doctor (I'm seeing one of the RNPs instead) and at least this means I can get my life/grades back on track in the meantime.

I also didn't go to class Thursday or Friday-- Friday because of the doctor's appointment, and Thursday because Wednesday night I had a bit of a breakdown and cried for several hours, and Ryter had to come get me and made me spend the night at his place so he could keep an eye on me and keep me company.

I feel bad for Ryter-- he's been trying so hard to help keep me stable and get me back on track, and meanwhile he's been having issues of his own, most recently the fact that his dentist crowned the wrong tooth, so he's going to have to deal with either forcing the dentist's office to make all the repairs free of charge as well as not charging him for the original crown, or else initiating a malpractice lawsuit. And he's been feeling like he shouldn't be complaining to me, despite the fact that I've told him it's okay, since I'm complaining to him. But he's been incredibly supportive and sweet, even if he was displeased that I asked for help from my mom rather than trying to pull through and do what was needed on my own.

I guess I should have, but I honestly didn't know what to do. The problem I have is that unlike Ryter, I never lived away from my parents until college, so my mom tended to just take care of all my medical stuff for me. Now I can make most appointments, but when I run up against a system I really don't understand, when I genuinely don't know what to do, I call her, and she can usually figure out something. Like in this case, having me go to a normal doctor's office not connected to the school, so they wouldn't just send me to the Mental Health Services people and make me wait. There's no way in hell I would have thought of that, because I didn't know that non-psychiatric doctors prescribed antidepressants. And next time I can do it on my own (if there is a next time, which I doubt).

It will take me a while before I can be fully independent. I expect to call my mom the first time I want to plan an elaborate Christmas dinner for my family and have it all ready at the same time, or if I'm the victim of fraud, because I've never experienced those kinds of things before. I mean, Ryter had to call his dad over the whole malpractice thing, partially due to the fact it's his insurance, of course, but also because it's just hard to know what to do in a situation you have never experienced before.

Next week, I'll call the psychiatrist in Dover and try to make an appointment, and also start calling around and trying to find a new therapist. There's one that is right next to campus and a very quick walk, plus she does Cognitive Behavioral Therapy which I am told might work well on me. If she's taking new clients that would be perfect. If not, I think my next option will probably be seeing one of the therapists who works in the same facility as the psychiatrist.

I have a plan. Plans are good.

On the plus side, Ryter bought me candy!

So today I got a call from my therapist telling me that apparently last week she was on vacation, so I was supposed to come in this week, and oh yeah, if I tried to cancel because I had already made plans, she was going to bill me for $70. Despite the fact that if she had called me with sufficient time for me to actually make the cancellation, I would have done so on the grounds that I haven't been to the gym since last week and at this point I honestly think working out and getting some endorphins flowing would do me more good than going to see her.

So I went in, and I explained that I was going to look for someone else, and we decided to have me continue to see her until I line up a new therapist, because right now I shouldn't really go without someone to talk to.

I got back to campus and went to make an appointment with the school's psychiatrist, but I was informed that in order to see him, I would have to see the school's therapists for a few weeks. Now, I know that they do this in part to prevent people from visiting multiple doctors and abusing meds, but considering that they won't let me get long-term therapy on campus, and I immediately burst into tears, which should have indicated that maybe there was an actual problem, you'd think they'd have some sort of emergency contingency plan or something.

So I asked my mom to help me get a list of psychiatrists and therapists in the area from my insurance company (I can NOT deal with that right now) but she said it would probably be a month or so before any of the psychiatrists could see me.

Now, to vent.

Psychiatric medicine has the WORST system. I mean, basically this means that someone in my situation has two choices-- be miserable and have their life slowly fall apart over the month or so before a psychiatrist meets with them, or get emergency care, which isn't really a choice, because it would entail self-harm of some sort. This is setting people up for a fall. I am logical and composed enough to know that hurting myself, even if I only did it to try to get some much-needed care, would ruin my life-- I'm still dealing with the aftermath of last time (and I feel no real desire to hurt myself). But five years ago, before I knew what I know now? And what about people who are a lot less rational than I am? These doctors seem to think that unless someone is causing themselves harm, it's not an emergency situation and they can wait as long as need be. Well, sure, I don't need help as much as someone who has attempted suicide. But it's like in ER medicine. A person who attempted suicide is about like that guy who gets hit by a car and has a collapsed lung. A person who just cuts themselves, that's more like someone who's really sick and puking everywhere. They still need emergency care, but they can wait until after the hit-by-a-car guy. I'm sort of in the "broken arm" category. I'm certainly in a more serious position than the person who's coming in to tell the doctor that their medication is working fine, thanks, no, everything's okay.

I don't know how they could do it, exactly, but there really needs to be a system so that people in my situation, who are incapable of functioning but aren't actually hurting themselves, can get in to see a psychiatrist within a week at least. If I want to talk to my doctor about a birth control checkup I can get in within two days, but when my mental state is so fragile I burst into tears at the thought of listening to automated voice messages from my insurance company, I have to wait a month. It's completely unreasonable.

Ah. Complaining about things makes me feel a lot better...

Grr

So I, still feeling very depressed and all, went to go see my therapist today, hoping I would get a chance to talk about this and maybe find out what I should do. I rode the bus in, I waited 40 minutes like usual, then I waited an additional 15 minutes, wondering where the heck she was. Finally I asked one of the other people who works in her office where she was, and he said he hadn't seen her all day.

No note, no call, nothing. And it's not like I can just drive back to campus, I was left with the choices of waiting around like an idiot for another hour and a half for the bus to arrive, or calling Ryter AGAIN to come pick me up (last time I had a therapy appointment I missed the bus afterwards, since they changed the schedule slightly over break). She just canceled with no warning, which is a) incredible unprofessional and b) really not fair to me, since I can't easily get to and from the office.

Plus I'm still depressed, and knowing that my therapist doesn't even care enough to give me a two-second phone call to say "hey, sorry, I can't come in today" isn't really helpful.

I'm stopping therapy with her. Like, as soon as is practical. Most people seem to be of the opinion that at this point I don't really need therapy anyway. Ryter put it, "You don't need a therapist, you need a friend." Unfortunately, "friend" is harder to look up in a directory.

Beetlejuice is a weird movie.

I went to see my therapist today, and afterwards I went and spent a little time with Ryter. We went to the mall so he could pick up his new katana, which he was really excited about. It was cute. Now he has three katanas (katanae?), but the first two aren't "real," and no, I don't know how you can have a fake katana that isn't like, foam or something. He explained it to me, but... it's a sword. It's pretty and cool but I could never tell the difference between real and fake, myself. Something to do with the metal of the blade...?

Yeah, he totally just wants to be Hiro Nakamura.

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So I was talking to my therapist today, and I've basically decided that I need to continue seeing her this summer, despite the fact that I don't normally see a therapist in the summertime and it's a pretty far drive. But you know, I can use it as an excuse to visit Ryter afterwards, and more importantly, I'll be able to focus on only a couple of things instead of trying to deal with everything at once like I do during the school year. It should work out.

Because it ain't cookin' 'til somethin's on fire

Floralia continues. I figured in honor of the festival, here's the day's flower:



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Uh... I was tired all day, despite going to bed ridiculously early last night (10:30); skipped PLTL... what else.

Today was the last day of Group. This semester's group was so much nicer than last, as in, we didn't lose 75% of our members by the end. For the last session, we just went around and talked about how awesome everyone else was. It was a totally back-patting extravaganza. Still, everyone was really great and I'll miss seeing them. I don't think I'll do the Group next year; this would be a hard act to follow and anyway, I won't be seeing the psychiatrist at the school so they won't LET me go to Group. Oh well. Maybe I'll do the Anxiety group, if they let me... probably not, though.

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Ryter sacrificed his kitchen to me today, and as I struggled to deal with his tiny counters (apartments are not conductive to baking) I made massive amounts of cookies and one massive cookie, all with more chocolate chips than cookie dough, and we made nachos with mountains of cheese and as Ryter attempted to brown his hamburger meat something in his stove caught fire and next thing we knew he was pouring water over it and I was running around opening windows and turning on fans...

It was good, though, and the smoke detector stopped screaming once I took it off the wall and left it dangling there. We were celebrating the completion of his novel and I was destressing by baking (it's the best way I know to relax), so two birds were killed with a large, floury stone. Plus he now owns various baking supplies. Not that I expect them to ever get used; I used his measuring cups on their maiden voyage. I was just glad he had them...

Life, tube. Aquaint yourself with it, it's where you'll be headed over the next couple of weeks.

I would be crying right now if I didn't think it was a waste of time.

I can't take the classes I wanted. Again. As in, I was flat-out informed that I was required to take three lab sciences a semester. Yes. Three. As in, I am not allowed to take fun classes. I'm allowed one non-major-oriented class a semester, and this upcoming semester it will be Horace. I was also informed that Honors students aren't bad at math, all evidence to the contrary, and I already took a test that I specifically remember not taking, thus proving that I can handle Calculus in the Spring and that I don't need Analysis. Instead, I am to take "Applied Biostatistics I" in addition to my Organic Chemistry, General Ecology, and Advanced-level Latin. Because rather than having about four gen eds left, turns out I have two-- Psychology and Fine Arts. And if I take Fine Arts in the Spring when I'm struggling with Calc and all I can take Psychology my senior year, and Greek next year.

"Take APs," they said. "It will give you more free time in your schedule," they said. Well, whoever "they" are, I'm hating them right now. If I didn't have those APs I would have so many more options for non-science courses. Instead I'm to consider myself lucky that I have the minor to do, and at least one semester will be all science courses.

ARGH!!!

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So, what else is bothering me lately... Bisobrina really, really wants to come up and visit me here at school, and she's on vacation this week. Of my remaining weekends, this is far and away the best for that, despite the English portfolio/final thingy I have due next Thursday and the meeting with my fellow TV announcer (for the Bio Lab presentation) I've already set up for 10 on Saturday morning. Plus the Latin presentations start next Friday and I'm praying I can beg my Latin professor to put mine off until Monday; I also have a Chem test next Friday and I absolutely HAVE to take the make-up test for Bio before the reading (for me, studying for the Bio final) days on the 8th and the 9th; I need to get that done next week, preferably Tuesday, possibly Wednesday if Tuesday is ABSOLUTELY undoable...

Okay, let's look at my due dates over the next couple of weeks.

Monday the 30th, Latin quiz.
1st or 2nd, need to take that Bio test.
3rd, English portfolio is handed it.
4th, Chem ACS exam (like a final only not one of his tests, so harder); also, Latin presentations begin (I haven't even started mine).
Monday the 7th, Latin presentations continue.
8th, dry-run of the performance for Bio Lab.
9th, we actually DO the performance.
10th, Bio Final.
11th at 5:30 PM, I get kicked out of the dorm and summer begins.

That's what my life will be like. So obviously if Bisobrina's coming up, it has to be this weekend.

I'd really rather she didn't. I want to see her, but honestly, I wish she'd come visit me over the summer, and I could take her down to the Cape for a weekend and we could chill out on the beach and do cool stuff there, because there's always cool stuff to do at the Cape. But she wants to come here, to UNH, and hang out on campus. Next year she'll be off to school in Connecticut and won't be able/want to visit me here. I'm just worried she wants to be doing cool stuff, like going to parties or something. Which I don't do. So if she's expecting me to have anything exciting planned, she's got another think coming. I don't think there's that much to do otherwise, either. I mean, I guess we could go to a dorm social or something... maybe hang out with Mistake, if she's not too busy with her own crazy study-fest (which seems likely)...

Sigh.

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Oh, and I was supposed to go see my therapist today, but I had a Chem test. So I moved the Chem test to yesterday. Then I was going to have to take the Calculus pretest, so I had to cancel anyway. Upset as I was with this turn of events, imagine my emotions when I went to my meeting with the adviser this morning (right after the bus left) and I was informed that I wouldn't be taking that exam, after all, as I didn't need it... So basically, I missed the appointment for nothing.

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So I'm starved for time and deprived of sleep; I'm scheduled up the whazoo with projects, presentations, and exams; I can't stay awake long enough to study/work on said projects, presentations, and exams; I'm going to be entertaining a high school student who has declared that she wants to meet all the "hot UNH boys" this weekend; and oh yeah, I just learned it's going to be even worse next year...

I need pie.

Short entry today.

And the Ludi Cereri continues...

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I felt like I should say something about the shootings at Virginia Tech... I found out yesterday in the dining hall, watching CNN, but it didn't really register with me. I mean, I was like, "Wow, that's terrible," because it's the worst campus shooting in history, but I didn't really think that much about it, you know? It wasn't like September 11th or even just Columbine when no one could talk about anything else. So I kind of pushed it out of my mind.

But then today, after various events made the day suck and I was complaining to Mistake, we went out for drinks to distract ourselves-- me from my day, and her, I discovered, from the fact that a friend of hers who goes to Virginia Tech hasn't been heard from yet, either way. So I immediately started to think about it, and it's very scary. Because that could happen anywhere. It could happen here. It did happen in Virginia and I can't imagine what they're feeling right now.

Every time something like this happens, I feel terrible for all the jokes I make about going postal...

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Ryter's power was back on today, so he came and picked up Constantine before I went to lab.

Got back my last Bio test, the one I thought I failed. Guess what? I failed. I got a 44%. I'm going to talk to my professor tomorrow...

Then I went all the way out to Dover to meet with my therapist before I remembered that she changed the appointment to next week, when I have a Chemistry test that I have now had to move a day earlier than anticipated, meaning extra studying on Sunday night. And I had to pay to get a taxi back to campus.

Plus I have to revise a paper by Thursday and my Chemistry teacher is being vindictive.

Great.

Ah, power outages

Good news: When the power went out last night I had on hand plenty of candles ready and waiting for the chance to light my room to a nice, warm glow. I also had a fully charged computer battery and plenty of books, and a cell phone, too.

Bad news: The generous souls who keep giving me candles always give me the nice, scented sort. My bedroom smelled like a cacophony of pine, pumpkin, vanilla, various citrus fruits and gingerbread. I think this qualifies as nasal abuse.

On the plus side, the candles masked the fact that we couldn't flush the toilets or shower. Yuck.

It was inconvenient, but hey, that's pretty much par for the course over the last couple days. We watched the third X-men movie on my computer (the battery died right as the credits rolled, nice) by candlelight and Daddy picked up Chinese take-out after he took Alex to his drum lesson.

This morning I awoke to the beeping of my iPod alarm, which was taking the place of my actual alarm clock (which I left at home when I came to school, damn). I rolled out of bed and stumbled downstairs in the morning light to get some water so I might actually brush my teeth. Then we learned that The Brother still had school, just a delay, and he had to be roused and sent off with no shower and no paper that was due, as it was on his computer and hadn't been printed out in time. He was GRUMMMMMPY.

I spent half an hour chipping ice off my car- there was about a centimeter, or a quarter of an inch, of ice coating the vehicle, the grass, the trees...It was like they had dipped the world in molten glass and let it harden. The birch trees were all bent completely over and their tips had frozen to the icy grass, creating graceful arches. Pretty, but not fun to deal with on the car. I then removed the boxes of clothing and put them into Mummy's car, and once it was suitably loaded up we headed out.

The roads were okay, at least. It took us three times up the stairs, and Mummy's bad hip and my bruised knee protested every step. Mummy left for work, and I promptly showered and headed over to Dover to meet with my therapist. I'd called her a couple times to try to figure out when the appointment was, but the first time she called back and said she had no record of me, no idea who I was, and was I sure I had the right extension number?

Remember how I have issues with being forgotten? Yeah, this didn't help. Not one bit.

But she found my information, at least, and the appointment is set up so that I only am gone from the campus for three hours, instead of five like last semester.

Anyway, I'm all unpacked, except for my bed, which I haven't set up because we might be moving it around and I want to talk to my roommate. I have to get my books but I need to transfer money into my debit account first and then have Mummy pay me back... better take care of that now...

Good news!

I met with the school psychiatrist today. And I told him that I very rarely remember to take my meds, which is a lie. I haven't taken them AT ALL in almost two months. But the point is, I'm fine, and stable, thanks to a combination of a) therapy, b) group therapy that focuses on the most distressing problem I have, c) my dad constantly telling me, every time I go home, how much thinner I look, d) realizing I actually look kinda pretty when I wear makeup and big hoop earrings and do something semi-decent with my hair, and e) not thinking about every guy I meet as a potential date opportunity, thus not getting disappointed when he invariably winds up having a girlfriend.

All these factors have improved my overall mood, and none of them are so hard to maintain (unless Daddy decides I'm not loosing weight after all or something) that I can't continue to pass as a normal, stable human being. And as long as that's the case, according to the doctor, I don't have to take mind-altering medication.

BASIORANA's DRUG FREE! WOOT!

Well, not quite, I mean, I still have pills to take, but everything I am currently putting into my body is a dietary supplement, all-natural food, or whatever that stuff in the cafeteria is. The all-natural stuff is rare... But still. I swore I was going to be off my meds by senior year of college- how awesome would it be if that goal was accomplished freshman year?

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Mistake has invited me to go with her and some of her friends to a frat party. Don't worry, none of the group intends to drink- I mean, it's got Mistake and Closer, and they're good people. They'll probably try to find a party that's a little less alcohol oriented. Also, the very fact that Closer will be there means it's gonna be fairly safe, since the really bad parties don't let guys in if they aren't in the frat.

I will mostly likely go and spend much of the time in the corner being nervously non-social and still feel a sense of accomplishment for getting out of the room at all. Then I will be able to say I went to a frat party during my college career, and thus one-up both my mother and my sister. Mind you, my sister's lack of frat parties in her social resume is probably more because Brandeis doesn't HAVE frats. Besides the Jewish one, which is intercollegiate. But a lack of frat houses tends to indicate a lack of frat parties.

Mummy just doesn't like parties. She's like, more shy than I am, only she doesn't particularly care enough to make an effort to change, especially not NOW.

Oh, speaking of parties, if anyone reading this knows my sister Shrewd, TELL HER TO GO TO HER SENIOR SEMI FORMAL. Because Shrewd didn't go to Prom, and this is her last chance to go to a big dance with all her friends until the weddings start. The issue is she doesn't want to go alone, and she has a friend she could go with, but she's too shy/awkward/embarrassed to ask him, despite the fact that it's not a DATE date, and it would be awkward for about FIVE SECONDS after the asking. Unless she has a friend like Mistake around who would make the entire circumstance much more awkward than it has to be, and thus provide her with emotional blackmail for the next five or six years of their friendship. (If you don't know this story, it's probably for your own good. That time period was the closest my life ever got to a soap opera, contrary to what Closer believes.)

But I digress. Tell Shrewd to get over herself and ask her buddy to escort her, because she needs a dance-like experience on her social resume and I want to have a picture more recent than senior year where she actually looks pretty, and not like a deranged chipmunk in junky old clothes like she does in EVERY FAMILY PHOTO, because she's usually laughing her head off.

Which says a lot about her personality, in that she's a cheerful sort, but also something about her chuckling, in that it needs work because laughter should not make one look like a deranged chipmunk. Not that I should talk, my laughter sounds like either a donkey, a woodpecker, or a pothead monkey. But I LOOK fine.

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Last weekend, I managed to come back from my visit home without leaving anything important. This is good. Not so good is that instead of forgetting stuff, I brought stuff with me. Specifically the key to the Contour, the car I was using to get to interviews. I discovered the key in my coat pocket. So I called and informed Mummy, and then she asked me where the spare key was. I said, "This is the spare key." "Then where's MY key, that I gave you on Saturday?"

Oops. That would be the bottom of my purse.

Thank God, there was ONE key I left behind, which ironically was the one that was actually mine, and on my key chain. So if it snows before I can get home, they can at least move the car...

Is it just me, or do I seem to be the sort who, if she ever got plastered (like that would happen), would wake up with a traffic sign she'd never seen before, and no pants?

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In other news... Basiorana needs to stop procrastinating. Like, NOW. Time for homework.