Wednesday, June 16, 2010

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My water broke yesterday evening. (more commonly known as writer’s block)

After spending about four or five hours and only getting a couple pages ripped out of me, I returned to the coffee shop after a dinner of chili-con-queso at Benny’s Mexican while I read the third Percy Jackson, and the pages flowed out of me like sweat from a hairy fat man, or me for that matter. It was the first time I’d been able to let go of my own shit and get lost in my other world. Nice a nice vacation from my own head. Hopefully that trend will continue.

In the exact opposite vein, I had breakfast (smoothie at coffee shop) with the other party of my friends’ breakup. We hadn’t gotten to see each other face to face since the beginning. It was really good to see him, but very hard at the same time. Going to bed last night, and getting ready this morning, it felt like I was getting ready to see Chad. I was shaky, didn’t know what to say, blah, blah, blah. After five or ten minutes with him, I was able to shake that off and just be with my friend who was hurting. The pain of life is constant, and every single decision we make affects us and/or those around us so greatly. A breakup shouldn’t cause so much pain for friends of the couple, yet I know it does. Once in awhile MD (not Desperate MD) tells me that she was thinking of Chad and I and starts to cry. Still. I know that’s not really all that typical, but nonetheless. The things we choose reaches further than could ever really be fathomed. Luckily, I cried enough this morning, that I don’t feel like it now! Yay!!!!!

Gross story for the day:

I drank my huge unsweetened iced-t from McDonalds (which the gay elite has called a boycott on, btw) on my way home late last night. Then, as always, I began eating my way through the ice. I was about half way done with the ice when I got home. In the light of my living room, I thought I saw something—some type of fleck—moving around below all the ice. With a sinking feeling, I jostled my ice around. The fleck made its way to the top. Somewhere from the bottom to the top of the ice, the fleck transformed into a long dark bug with pincers on its ass. Guess I should have followed my leader’s proclamations and joined the boycott. Serves me right.

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