in regards to the last post...

...i really should stay far, far away from the internet whilst under any kind of influence. the universe had it's revenge by giving me a babysitting job the next day and making me throw up in the parking lot on my way there. looking after two kids on winter break all hyper from cupcakes while hungover is not my idea of a good time.

i'm home for the holidays now, and sick as a dog - again. last night was only 2 or 3 hours of sleep as i was up coughing for most of it. it's so frustrating, this persistent illness. i'm thinking i might have to go to the doctor, because honestly, i'm falling apart at the seams and it makes me think that there's something seriously wrong with me. the fact that i'm terrfied of the doctor doesn't help. i avoid them like the plague but i don't think i should anymore. something in my head tells me that i am sicksick, not just "oh, it's a winter cold" sick.

but i'm trying to stay positive. there is a fire in the fireplace and the tree has massive piles of presents underneath it. i spent a good while wrapping this afternoon, fixing giant bows to tiny packages while listening to tegan and sara in the comfort of my at-home bedroom. the only thing missing is jordan, on the road to santa cruz, but i'm wearing his hoodie and the necklace he gave me for christmas and that's almost as good, right?

i'm ready to go home soon, to be back in my comfort zone, to be healthy and warm and full again. for now, though, hot cocoa and my parent's big screen tv is doing fine for me.

drunk as a skunk facebook stalking people i really shouldn't be stalking. this is ridiculous. break, please end so i can be reunited with the people that i love. yeah, that's right - i said the L-word, and i'm not ashamed. i l-word l-word l-word a certain someone and i'm just waiting for the right time to say it.

oh, blue moon - you are a fickle, fickle mistress.

oh, neglected blog. you have been forgotten in the wake of papers and finals and the ever growing presence of boy. when i'm happy i don't have much to talk about and the things that have been angering me lately are too immature to give voice or word to.

last sick spits open mic of the year was last night. after a string of terrible poets and singer/songwriters who deserve to have all of their old jewel CDs burned a very large fire, i went onstage and read "music for a porch life", belting out jolie holland's cover of "old fashioned morphine" in between stanzas of the poem. i wore a black nightgown as a dress and thigh high tights and he sat in the back where i couldn't see him through the lights. i felt beautiful, like i had true talent. i've never sung on a stage before and it was such a liberating feeling.

if anyone is wondering, a microphone makes all the difference. i sound like shite in the car but when you're amplified, you don't have to try so hard to sound good. wish i knew why that was so.

finished off the evening playing scrabble on the plush carpet of jessie and audrey's tiny living room, drinking pabst, trying to pass made up words as real. stifled annoyance over petty things in exchange for smiles. sometimes it's easier not to even acknowledge things that bother you. just smile, baby, and everything will be all right.