Who knows.
ABSTRACT
My sister and soon-to-be-brother-in-law were here and they were awesome! I gave them my old stereo which he is going to use in his art-making place. Do not go to "brownandsticky.com", or if you do it's not my fault. My funding was renewed, so I should do some work, or something. CASKIN now reads this LJ but I hate that name so I'm changing it. I had a Cop, but I got stood up. It hurt. I wish it wouldn't happen anymore. My funding got renewed, reprise. Jay had a party and I wasn't invited, but then I was, but then it didn't matter. My sister's ring is awesome. I had a death fantasy, but then I decided that was too pathetic for even me.
*****
So my sister was in town this weekend with her finacee (MY FUTURE BROTHER-IN-LAW OMG!!! I finally understand why darthfox was all OMG when her brother was getting married because IT IS SO OMG!) and she commented to me that I hadn't updated in FOREVER and I was like that's just because you can't read half of them and then I thought about it--new territory for me--and realized no, it's true, the last time I updated was the time she got engaged and YAY! and so what the hell has been happening? A BILLION BILLION THINGS. Mostly lame. This will not keep me from writing about them at length, although that entirely depends on my motivation lasting through the morning. Which it may or may not. WHO KNOWS? Look how I just came back to my subject title! That would have been an amazing piece of writing if it had been planned, but instead we'll just call it kismet.
Which is what it was when my old stereo--well, one of them--fit perfectly into the trunk of my sister's fiancee's (fiance? Is it spelled differently for men? See subject title) car! It was just sitting there cluttering up my bedroom and I didn't want to go to the hassle of eBaying it because I am lazy and as it turns out W (that's the fiance/e) thinks he can use it for his studio if he gets one (that's art studio, not studio apartment, because he lives in this apparently kick-ass loft in Brooklyn--I've never been there--and he's an artist and he sold a painting this weekend at an auction at the Corcoran which is why he was down here and it went for above retail, which is awesome, but it was a pretty awesome painting, too, and I would totally tell you the URL for his website if I could remember it, but I do remember that it makes me laugh, so just try typing in things that make me laugh and see what comes up, although I don't suggest typing in things like "poo.com" or "crotchjokes.com" or "brownandsticky.com" and if you do, don't blame me for what happens) and if not then he can eBay it, and then okay sure he gets the money, but I don't have to deal with the hassle of like, doing anything. So. Yay! Kismet! I told you.
There was a fly on the back of the man in the elevator today. It made me think of death, and I was creeped out. You are welcome.
My funding was renewed for next year, and they have "every intention" or renewing it for the year after that. Yay! Although I guess that means I really need to, like, get on the horse about doing some of my work for the semester that I'm actually in. I need to come up with a bibliogrpahy for my exploration paper by Wednesday, and a thesis statement for my Auto Racing paper by Friday. Sweet. Maybe I should start working on those or something. Luckily the midterms, which the kiddies took two weeks ago Wednesday, don't have to be returned until after the break, which is next week. And this is because of the professor, who said that he wasn't ready with his stack! I mean, I'm not ready with mine either, but I can pretend now. HOT. Of course, his excuse is that he was in Africa, and my excuse is that I am the emotional and mental equivalent of a teenager. See below. But that's not the point.
I can, however, tell you how much Adolf Hitler's Mercedes cost in like 1929. And what options it had. I swear, there are some amazing books out there in the world.
So I know that some of you are desperate for a CASKIN update. Everyone, meet largo. largo, this is everyone. They don't bite, mostly, although those that do are, I hear, very good at it. He doesn't update much and I think friended me mostly because he wanted to hear what I was saying about him, but luckily for me I learned all about friend filters! So now we can all read all about it and laugh at him behind my back, or something. Unless one of you is friendittoing me, but I have no idea how that works. Like, I have to give my password to something? Who does that? In any event, there's nothing in there that's more mortifying than what I've already admitted elsewhere in here but I'm still not going to unlock it because it's lame. I mean, that's the kind of reaction I have to these kinds of situations, is that I get horribly embarrassed. Isn't this awesome how I'm kind of talking around everything so we all know what I'm talking about, except for the person who we're talking about, who can read this? STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE I'M NOT HERE, MAMA! Anyway he called me three times blitzed off his gourd on Friday night and DEMANDED that we spend time together this weekend! And I was all, but my sister is in town and also it's 12:45 AM and we're drinking whiskey and gin (not together, because ew, but separately) and playing poker, so I'll call you tomorrow. And when I did, he was all, uh, hey, did I call you last night? Har. Cutehead drunken undergraduate. Not that I haven't done/said stupid shit while drinking lalalala. What's funny is that now the blue line goes to Largo Town Center so every day I'm like, Haha, look, it's CASKIN. Which is a name I've decided I rather detest, so I'm going to go over to calling him largo, since that's what he calls himself and I think that's fair, yes?
So I was on the phone last night with esti626 after having gotten a call from thyesc asking me when the 2 defenestrations of Prague happened, in the 1800s or the 1700s? (and I had to explain that there were three of them, and that they were in 1419, 1618, and 1948, which I found amusing, but that's neither here nor there) and esti626 says to me, So I hear you have a Cop? To which my reply was, "Well, it's a long story." That story can now be told! Also, I lied. It's not long. Although it will be when I finish telling it, because I'm longwinded. Some of you may have noticed.
This is actually rather an embarrassing story, actually, too.
So we met like three weeks ago at Remington's of all places when icecrmassasin (I hope I spelled that right) was in town for President's Day weekend and we were up at the Karaoke bar and I was singing loudly over the person with the microphone because I'm an asshole like that while waiting to order a drink. I mean, I'm always an asshole like that, not just when waiting to order a drink. Anyway, I'm singing, and guy (who turns out to be Cop--because he is one) strikes up a conversation with me about how I should actually go up and sing and I'm all, but I'm embarrassed (I spend a lot of time being embarrassed, don't I? You'd think I'd learn how to spell it, buy it's a guess every time) and blah blah. This turns intoa two hour conversation where I end up giving him my number and girlfromsouth and indydc and his Z and icecrmassasin are all giving me shit because I IGNORED THEM!!! for two hours and then didn't seal the deal! But then Cop call me in the car on the way home and now I have his number and I'm like, huh. Of all the places to meet someone I'm actually interested in. Remington's. Who would have thought.
So for a brief time, I thought I did have a Cop. A brief time of long phone calls and innuendo and mystery and questions and being tired and happy and one glorious, wonderful date, two weeks ago this coming Wednesday. But then I went away to a curling tournament in New York (OMG DRIVE FROM HELL--snowed the whole way, took 6.5 hours, and only to end up in freaking White Plains, where everything is on fucking Westchester Avenue. BOO WHITE PLAINS) and we still talked every day except then he didn't call on Sunday like he said he would, so on Monday I was all OMG WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!?! And basically acting like a 13-year old girl, even to the point where I was actually having a major breakout, but I think that might have had to do with all the cheese I was eating at Ardsley, or else maybe all the beer I was drinking. I spent a good deal of that weekend drunk. But then he called Monday, so that was fine, and we set up tentative plans for what would have been last night. Nothing specific, just "let's hang out." But I don't know. I would call, he wouldn't call back. He'd say he would, and he wouldn't. I kept chalking it up to whatever, like, that I'm being a 12-year old girl--because, let's face it, I was, as darthfox and probably sowilo can attest--but you know that nagging feeling.
Anyway yesterday at 2:00 I call to confirm that we're still on. He calls back and says, sure, I'll call you when I get off work, which he said would maybe be around 6:00, but who knows. Which is cool, I mean, I understand with the cop thing that you don't actually have a lot of control over that kind of thing. But so 6:00 came and went, and then 7:00, and 7:30, and I called just to see if everything was okay, but got the voicemail. And then it was 8:00 and 8:30 and I was about to gnaw my arm off, so I went to go get dinner (I had to go to the Teeter--they closed the Safeway in my basement! How pissed am I? 12!) and made it and ate it and called to say, again to voicemail, I hope you are eating now, or something, because I just ate and I'm sorry but I was about to die and I hope you're not still at work? And then it was 9:00 and 9:30 and 10:00 and 10:30 and I called one last time and said, again to voicemail, well, I'm sorry that whatever happened is happening, but I wish I had known that you weren't going to show up. Except it wasn't all as passive-aggressive as that, mostly pathetic, actually. And then out of habit I said, as I hung up, "talk to you soon," but let's be honest, I'll be surprised if I ever hear from him again. And then I grabbed a beer, went out on the balcony, and had myself a little cry. Yes, seriously. I am such a goddamn drama queen.
Because I really had been looking forward to this, a lot. It was the first time since--well, since Jay, actually--that there was someone I had The Feelings (of some kind, I don't know. I know I liked him a lot, I don't know if anything would have happened, but it was something) for that had them back at me. Or at least seemed to. Or did initally or something. And I was beginning to think, hey, maybe something is about to happen. It's about time. I guess maybe it was the hormones speaking. But that's actually why I was crying. The being stood up was part of it, of course (I've never been stood up before! It sucks), but mostly I was just disappointed because I thought there was something and I guess there wasn't.
So, I've been blah all day. Luckily my iPod is cooperating with my mood and playing a lot of Tori and Radiohead (even though I almost always have it on random shuffle).
I'm not saying this because I want pity or sympathy, or anything. Or even anger. I'm having a hard time blaming him, which I know is stupid, but maybe there's some extenuating circumstance! I think. Maybe he was so tired after work he fell asleep and his phone was on vibrate and he never heard it! I'm good at making excuses for other people. Of course, he still hasn't called, so it's not like they hold any water. I don't know what I want. Well, that's not true. I want a boyfriend. Not in the sense of ANYBODY WILL DO I NEED A WARM BODY PLZKTHX but here was something an awful lot like what I thought I was looking for and then HAHA! Funny joke. Gah.
Anyway. What comes, comes, and we'll take it as it does. I just wish what would come would be, like, awesome and perfect and if it could do it now, that would be super. Thanks for asking!
Oh, and what else. My funding has been renewed for next year, and they have "every intention" of renewing it for the year after that, so that's good news, I suppose, although it does mean I should do some work this semester. And, like, motivate. I have been semi-seriously kicking around the idea of stopping, but if I did I know I would never go back, for one, and, two, that I would be stuck here at my law firm forever. Which is fine--it suits my temperament in every way but one: There's nowhere to go with it. I would feel wasted here, even though I've discovered that all I want to do with my time is waste it anyway. What I really need is a job doing history for a car company or a motorsports sanctioning body. If such things exist.
Hey, look, I already talked about that. Clearly I have organization issues. But I like how I went in a totally different direction with it this time. Call it a study in psychology, or something. I'd delete it, but, nah.
I found out third-hand that Jay, my favorite ex, was having a birthday party this weekend. I wasn't invited on the (erroneous) assumption that I wouldn't want to go and that it would be awkward because of the new boyfriend. As it turns out I couldn't have gone anyway, with Beth and W in town, but it still kind of hurt. When it got back through channels (which I never intended for it to do, but the grapevine, she is mighty) that I was kind of stung by it girlfromsouth interceded on my behalf, which I appreciate immensely, even though the point was as I said moot. And I think at that point it would have been uncomfortable. Which is a shame, really, because I miss Jay.
Hey, everyone, take an insecurity. I have enough to go around.
My sister's engagement ring, BTW, is gorgeous. 1.14 carat solitaire on a platinum band.
So, I think that's it. The last however long it's been. February didn't, for the most part, suck, which is refreshing, and I can't honestly say, despite it all, that March is sucking. At least the weather is looking up. I need to sleep more, drink less, study more and play less, but I can't. It's kind of who I am, you know? It didn't used to be this way, I don't think. Or maybe it did, but it wasn't as obvious.
I saw a suspicious package hidden in a corner of the hallway to the Metro this morning, and had a brief, sick, fantasy about being blown up in some horrible bombing attack thing, but then I thought, how lame would it be to have spent your last night on earth alone, crying on your balcony because you were stood up by someone?
So life goes on.
My sister and soon-to-be-brother-in-law were here and they were awesome! I gave them my old stereo which he is going to use in his art-making place. Do not go to "brownandsticky.com", or if you do it's not my fault. My funding was renewed, so I should do some work, or something. CASKIN now reads this LJ but I hate that name so I'm changing it. I had a Cop, but I got stood up. It hurt. I wish it wouldn't happen anymore. My funding got renewed, reprise. Jay had a party and I wasn't invited, but then I was, but then it didn't matter. My sister's ring is awesome. I had a death fantasy, but then I decided that was too pathetic for even me.
*****
So my sister was in town this weekend with her finacee (MY FUTURE BROTHER-IN-LAW OMG!!! I finally understand why darthfox was all OMG when her brother was getting married because IT IS SO OMG!) and she commented to me that I hadn't updated in FOREVER and I was like that's just because you can't read half of them and then I thought about it--new territory for me--and realized no, it's true, the last time I updated was the time she got engaged and YAY! and so what the hell has been happening? A BILLION BILLION THINGS. Mostly lame. This will not keep me from writing about them at length, although that entirely depends on my motivation lasting through the morning. Which it may or may not. WHO KNOWS? Look how I just came back to my subject title! That would have been an amazing piece of writing if it had been planned, but instead we'll just call it kismet.
Which is what it was when my old stereo--well, one of them--fit perfectly into the trunk of my sister's fiancee's (fiance? Is it spelled differently for men? See subject title) car! It was just sitting there cluttering up my bedroom and I didn't want to go to the hassle of eBaying it because I am lazy and as it turns out W (that's the fiance/e) thinks he can use it for his studio if he gets one (that's art studio, not studio apartment, because he lives in this apparently kick-ass loft in Brooklyn--I've never been there--and he's an artist and he sold a painting this weekend at an auction at the Corcoran which is why he was down here and it went for above retail, which is awesome, but it was a pretty awesome painting, too, and I would totally tell you the URL for his website if I could remember it, but I do remember that it makes me laugh, so just try typing in things that make me laugh and see what comes up, although I don't suggest typing in things like "poo.com" or "crotchjokes.com" or "brownandsticky.com" and if you do, don't blame me for what happens) and if not then he can eBay it, and then okay sure he gets the money, but I don't have to deal with the hassle of like, doing anything. So. Yay! Kismet! I told you.
There was a fly on the back of the man in the elevator today. It made me think of death, and I was creeped out. You are welcome.
My funding was renewed for next year, and they have "every intention" or renewing it for the year after that. Yay! Although I guess that means I really need to, like, get on the horse about doing some of my work for the semester that I'm actually in. I need to come up with a bibliogrpahy for my exploration paper by Wednesday, and a thesis statement for my Auto Racing paper by Friday. Sweet. Maybe I should start working on those or something. Luckily the midterms, which the kiddies took two weeks ago Wednesday, don't have to be returned until after the break, which is next week. And this is because of the professor, who said that he wasn't ready with his stack! I mean, I'm not ready with mine either, but I can pretend now. HOT. Of course, his excuse is that he was in Africa, and my excuse is that I am the emotional and mental equivalent of a teenager. See below. But that's not the point.
I can, however, tell you how much Adolf Hitler's Mercedes cost in like 1929. And what options it had. I swear, there are some amazing books out there in the world.
So I know that some of you are desperate for a CASKIN update. Everyone, meet largo. largo, this is everyone. They don't bite, mostly, although those that do are, I hear, very good at it. He doesn't update much and I think friended me mostly because he wanted to hear what I was saying about him, but luckily for me I learned all about friend filters! So now we can all read all about it and laugh at him behind my back, or something. Unless one of you is friendittoing me, but I have no idea how that works. Like, I have to give my password to something? Who does that? In any event, there's nothing in there that's more mortifying than what I've already admitted elsewhere in here but I'm still not going to unlock it because it's lame. I mean, that's the kind of reaction I have to these kinds of situations, is that I get horribly embarrassed. Isn't this awesome how I'm kind of talking around everything so we all know what I'm talking about, except for the person who we're talking about, who can read this? STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE I'M NOT HERE, MAMA! Anyway he called me three times blitzed off his gourd on Friday night and DEMANDED that we spend time together this weekend! And I was all, but my sister is in town and also it's 12:45 AM and we're drinking whiskey and gin (not together, because ew, but separately) and playing poker, so I'll call you tomorrow. And when I did, he was all, uh, hey, did I call you last night? Har. Cutehead drunken undergraduate. Not that I haven't done/said stupid shit while drinking lalalala. What's funny is that now the blue line goes to Largo Town Center so every day I'm like, Haha, look, it's CASKIN. Which is a name I've decided I rather detest, so I'm going to go over to calling him largo, since that's what he calls himself and I think that's fair, yes?
So I was on the phone last night with esti626 after having gotten a call from thyesc asking me when the 2 defenestrations of Prague happened, in the 1800s or the 1700s? (and I had to explain that there were three of them, and that they were in 1419, 1618, and 1948, which I found amusing, but that's neither here nor there) and esti626 says to me, So I hear you have a Cop? To which my reply was, "Well, it's a long story." That story can now be told! Also, I lied. It's not long. Although it will be when I finish telling it, because I'm longwinded. Some of you may have noticed.
This is actually rather an embarrassing story, actually, too.
So we met like three weeks ago at Remington's of all places when icecrmassasin (I hope I spelled that right) was in town for President's Day weekend and we were up at the Karaoke bar and I was singing loudly over the person with the microphone because I'm an asshole like that while waiting to order a drink. I mean, I'm always an asshole like that, not just when waiting to order a drink. Anyway, I'm singing, and guy (who turns out to be Cop--because he is one) strikes up a conversation with me about how I should actually go up and sing and I'm all, but I'm embarrassed (I spend a lot of time being embarrassed, don't I? You'd think I'd learn how to spell it, buy it's a guess every time) and blah blah. This turns intoa two hour conversation where I end up giving him my number and girlfromsouth and indydc and his Z and icecrmassasin are all giving me shit because I IGNORED THEM!!! for two hours and then didn't seal the deal! But then Cop call me in the car on the way home and now I have his number and I'm like, huh. Of all the places to meet someone I'm actually interested in. Remington's. Who would have thought.
So for a brief time, I thought I did have a Cop. A brief time of long phone calls and innuendo and mystery and questions and being tired and happy and one glorious, wonderful date, two weeks ago this coming Wednesday. But then I went away to a curling tournament in New York (OMG DRIVE FROM HELL--snowed the whole way, took 6.5 hours, and only to end up in freaking White Plains, where everything is on fucking Westchester Avenue. BOO WHITE PLAINS) and we still talked every day except then he didn't call on Sunday like he said he would, so on Monday I was all OMG WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!?! And basically acting like a 13-year old girl, even to the point where I was actually having a major breakout, but I think that might have had to do with all the cheese I was eating at Ardsley, or else maybe all the beer I was drinking. I spent a good deal of that weekend drunk. But then he called Monday, so that was fine, and we set up tentative plans for what would have been last night. Nothing specific, just "let's hang out." But I don't know. I would call, he wouldn't call back. He'd say he would, and he wouldn't. I kept chalking it up to whatever, like, that I'm being a 12-year old girl--because, let's face it, I was, as darthfox and probably sowilo can attest--but you know that nagging feeling.
Anyway yesterday at 2:00 I call to confirm that we're still on. He calls back and says, sure, I'll call you when I get off work, which he said would maybe be around 6:00, but who knows. Which is cool, I mean, I understand with the cop thing that you don't actually have a lot of control over that kind of thing. But so 6:00 came and went, and then 7:00, and 7:30, and I called just to see if everything was okay, but got the voicemail. And then it was 8:00 and 8:30 and I was about to gnaw my arm off, so I went to go get dinner (I had to go to the Teeter--they closed the Safeway in my basement! How pissed am I? 12!) and made it and ate it and called to say, again to voicemail, I hope you are eating now, or something, because I just ate and I'm sorry but I was about to die and I hope you're not still at work? And then it was 9:00 and 9:30 and 10:00 and 10:30 and I called one last time and said, again to voicemail, well, I'm sorry that whatever happened is happening, but I wish I had known that you weren't going to show up. Except it wasn't all as passive-aggressive as that, mostly pathetic, actually. And then out of habit I said, as I hung up, "talk to you soon," but let's be honest, I'll be surprised if I ever hear from him again. And then I grabbed a beer, went out on the balcony, and had myself a little cry. Yes, seriously. I am such a goddamn drama queen.
Because I really had been looking forward to this, a lot. It was the first time since--well, since Jay, actually--that there was someone I had The Feelings (of some kind, I don't know. I know I liked him a lot, I don't know if anything would have happened, but it was something) for that had them back at me. Or at least seemed to. Or did initally or something. And I was beginning to think, hey, maybe something is about to happen. It's about time. I guess maybe it was the hormones speaking. But that's actually why I was crying. The being stood up was part of it, of course (I've never been stood up before! It sucks), but mostly I was just disappointed because I thought there was something and I guess there wasn't.
So, I've been blah all day. Luckily my iPod is cooperating with my mood and playing a lot of Tori and Radiohead (even though I almost always have it on random shuffle).
I'm not saying this because I want pity or sympathy, or anything. Or even anger. I'm having a hard time blaming him, which I know is stupid, but maybe there's some extenuating circumstance! I think. Maybe he was so tired after work he fell asleep and his phone was on vibrate and he never heard it! I'm good at making excuses for other people. Of course, he still hasn't called, so it's not like they hold any water. I don't know what I want. Well, that's not true. I want a boyfriend. Not in the sense of ANYBODY WILL DO I NEED A WARM BODY PLZKTHX but here was something an awful lot like what I thought I was looking for and then HAHA! Funny joke. Gah.
Anyway. What comes, comes, and we'll take it as it does. I just wish what would come would be, like, awesome and perfect and if it could do it now, that would be super. Thanks for asking!
Oh, and what else. My funding has been renewed for next year, and they have "every intention" of renewing it for the year after that, so that's good news, I suppose, although it does mean I should do some work this semester. And, like, motivate. I have been semi-seriously kicking around the idea of stopping, but if I did I know I would never go back, for one, and, two, that I would be stuck here at my law firm forever. Which is fine--it suits my temperament in every way but one: There's nowhere to go with it. I would feel wasted here, even though I've discovered that all I want to do with my time is waste it anyway. What I really need is a job doing history for a car company or a motorsports sanctioning body. If such things exist.
Hey, look, I already talked about that. Clearly I have organization issues. But I like how I went in a totally different direction with it this time. Call it a study in psychology, or something. I'd delete it, but, nah.
I found out third-hand that Jay, my favorite ex, was having a birthday party this weekend. I wasn't invited on the (erroneous) assumption that I wouldn't want to go and that it would be awkward because of the new boyfriend. As it turns out I couldn't have gone anyway, with Beth and W in town, but it still kind of hurt. When it got back through channels (which I never intended for it to do, but the grapevine, she is mighty) that I was kind of stung by it girlfromsouth interceded on my behalf, which I appreciate immensely, even though the point was as I said moot. And I think at that point it would have been uncomfortable. Which is a shame, really, because I miss Jay.
Hey, everyone, take an insecurity. I have enough to go around.
My sister's engagement ring, BTW, is gorgeous. 1.14 carat solitaire on a platinum band.
So, I think that's it. The last however long it's been. February didn't, for the most part, suck, which is refreshing, and I can't honestly say, despite it all, that March is sucking. At least the weather is looking up. I need to sleep more, drink less, study more and play less, but I can't. It's kind of who I am, you know? It didn't used to be this way, I don't think. Or maybe it did, but it wasn't as obvious.
I saw a suspicious package hidden in a corner of the hallway to the Metro this morning, and had a brief, sick, fantasy about being blown up in some horrible bombing attack thing, but then I thought, how lame would it be to have spent your last night on earth alone, crying on your balcony because you were stood up by someone?
So life goes on.