I'm going to get out. I'm going to get on that plane at 8 am on Friday morning and I'm going to leave this place. I'm going to leave this place and I'm going to leave this place and I'm doing it.
He can try to die and I can hand his life back to him on a silver platter and I'm going to get on that plane.
I can juggle finals and packing up my life into 18"x18"x18" boxes and I can do it.
I can find out that Plan A for getting my stuff home is a total bust four days before I'm supposed to leave and I'm still going to leave.
I can find out that Plan B isn't going to happen two days before I'm supposed to leave (due to a flood. A flood! Who has those anymore?) and I'm getting out.
I'm getting out and I'm leaving and I'm getting on that plan at 8 am on Friday morning and I'm going to do all of those things. I'm going to do all of those things and then I'm going to get off that plane and maybe I'll cry and maybe I'll laugh or maybe I'll cry and laugh because, honestly, sometimes that's all you've got left.
I think that's all I've got left.
Posted by Taylor on December 15, 2004 @ 2:17 pmbut in my reality it's apparently perfectly normal for a haggard old queen to walk into a laundromat and shriek, "Okay, all! I need 5 washers and I need them NOW!" In this same reality in which I live it also seems to be perfectly acceptable for haggard old queens to refer to my over-stuffed laundry bag as "a big tiger." Twice.
Again, I don't know if these rules apply to your reality, but in mine? Yes sir.
In totally unrelated and far less interesting news, I'm 100% finished with all final projects. I didn't bake the vegan cookies that I promised my printmaking class for tomorrow, but there's only so much one can do at once. My to-do list is shrinking, but the items left are rather large. You know, like "move across the country" and "pick up the pieces of your shattered life." Stuff like that.
Posted by Taylor on December 13, 2004 @ 10:15 pmsaying "oops" a lot lately. Not just a lot, but more like "I'll be right there, I just need to - oops. Okay, hold on a sec, let me - oops. Hmm, alright, if I just - oops..."
We went to a Sean Astin's book signing last night. That man is quite skilled in the art of circumlocution. He rambled on about who-knows-what for about 45 minutes before taking questions. By the time he "answered" the first question I had forgotten what the question was to begin with. That gave him just enough time to "answer" one more (a girl asked how he approaches doing multiple takes of an emotional scene and he spoke at length about The Stairs of Cirith Ungol...). All in all, an evening ill-spent.
Posted by Taylor on December 11, 2004 @ 10:57 pmI have finally taken a look at the big picture. My relationship crapped out, I have to move back across the country to a place I hate after having moved out here only four months ago, I have one week to pack for this move, I have to find a new school after falling in love with this one, and, to top it all off, I have final projects to complete! I guess it's really no wonder that my face looks like the surface of the moon, my left eye won't stop twitching, and haven't eaten in three days. Though, I suppose, if that's all that's happening to me I'm either very strong or very stupid (and judging from the day I've had, it might be more of the latter and less of the former).
Posted by Taylor on December 07, 2004 @ 11:27 pmthat I can't wait to not live here anymore is so I can listen to the same Cds over and over again without being chastised. J doesn't like it when I listen to, say, Out There Live or the Wicked soundtrack 47 times in a row. I can see how that might annoy some people, but when I'm hooked I'm hooked and there ain't nothin' more to say (except that I'm really hooked on Out There Live right now).
Also, can you tell that I would rather deep fry my own face than continue working on this drawing final?
Posted by Taylor on December 06, 2004 @ 4:46 pmWhen I draw people? They look like sea monkeys. Not even real monkeys, but sea monkeys. At least if they looked like real monkeys they'd stand a chance of being mistaken for people. With the sea monkeys? Not so much, people. Not so much.
Posted by Taylor on December 06, 2004 @ 4:35 pmAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'T DRAW!