A Letter To Lovers

Dear Happily Committed Couples,

If you are younger than me, I would kindly like to ask you to please stop getting married and spawning children.

Also, if you are my friend, please hold off on announcing any plans to move in together, engagements, pregnancies, or wedding invitations for a little while longer, while I wait for my head to stop spinning.

Love,

- Me

In the past year, I have witnessed...:
- 6 engagements
- 3 weddings
- 2 babies
- 2 divorces
- 4 significant other move ins

... Seriously people, don't cut in line.


**Disclaimer: Of course I'm happy for y'all.

Holy crap, batman.

I graduate in May 2009.

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING WITH MY LIFE.

I'm going to have to start sorting that bit out sooner rather than later... The options:
1. Wait a year, go to grad school (work somewhere in the meantime)
2. Go immediately to grad school
3. Do peace corps or teach for america or something
4. Become a park ranger in Big Bend and write a novel

... okay, so 4 probably isn't viable. But the number and variety of options open to me is liberating and terrifying.

A philisophical quandry

What is the point of cookie dough ice cream? Really, all you do is root around for the cookie dough, obligingly eatig the ice cream as you go so you can find another one of those tasty little chunks..

Lessons learned today

1. Diet pepsi and rum go great together
2. The oblivious guys are, more often than not, actually quite perceptive
3. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut, the brass ovaries manuever has only led to personal distress every time I use it.


Looking back on the past year, I think I've experienced more than enough heartache to compensate for several years of being in stupid over serious relatioships. I quit. My life goal is to become a spinster.

Let the chaos begin

I'm back home.

In this week's highlights: A date that I'll probably royally screw up as usual (does it count as a date if the other person might just be thinking it's a hang-out?), talking with a doctor about my pizza face, the dentist a meeting wherein I will learn the fine art of transcription, the desire for more time to be at the hospital with Tweed, more driving (yay indiana!), a rice diet (damn mexican food), and laundry.

The fun never ends!




**Disclaimer: despite my sarcastic tone, I'm actually in a pretty fantabulous mood. Just busy, and amused by it..

Another day in paradise

Clean showers, a soft bed, and a shelter from the environment.

Tomorrow, all that will change, for three weeks of fun in the desert sun, trying not to fry or die from dehydration.

Please see my travel blog (http://goirisigo.blogspot.com) for updates on what I'm doing....

Until then, peace!

So long, Mr. Perfect

It was real, it was fun, and now you're on your way home.

There's safety in emotion when you know it couldn't be real, when the object of your affections lives across the country, or loves another person, or, even better, both.

Still hurts a twitch, though.

Love is a scam, concocted by poets, executed by actors, and experienced by willing flocks of hungry humans, who have forgotten the joy of living dangerously. Wouldn't it be beautiful if love stories were nonfiction? Sadly, they are not.