When you were young you were the king of carrot flowers
mmm yes I do love that song.
Five songs I just have never gotten sick of:
-King of Carrot Flowers pt.1 - Neutral Milk Hotel
-Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley
-When You Come Back Down - Nickel Creek
-Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits
-Samson - Regina Spektor (well, I haven't yet, and I doubt I will...this is the newest addition to my list)
When Joe challenged me to go a few weeks without mentioning Ryan in this, I wasn't worried. But I am officially disappointed in my inability to write interesting, comprehensive, or thought-provoking entries worth someone's time besides my own.
I could have just recorded part of me and Whit's conversation today on the drive back up to school. About faith and politics, how extremes are divisive though they claim to unify. On the other hand, I have that conversation so often, with Whit, with Eric, with Brian...I feel like I have exhausted my ability to eloquently explain why I will never put a label on my faith, or pledge to a political group. Though for all intents and purposes, I absolutely believe in God, and I will probably always vote democratic. I have no trust in the institutions that plague America today. I have trust in few individuals, but a few individuals is better than no one at all.
In other news, break blew a lot of sweaty balls. I worked 40 hours, and hung out as often as I could with my friends. Tried to make spring break as xcorex as we could given that we were in a small southeastern wisconsin town that was dumped on by 16 inches of snow. IN LATE MARCH. fuck the weather.
Also, my stomach ache, my perpetual bad-butterflies-in-the-tummy anxiety stomach ache that has escalated to full scale hyperventilating on a regular basis is becoming...an issue.
Linda's theory: You're scared because your life is falling apart (Thanks bitch)
Dad's theory: You need a boyfriend, and you're scared because you fucked me out of a lot of money last year (no, douchebag you fucked me out of BU because you're wife wanted to move to a ridiculous house on a ridiculous lake next to ridiculous rich fuckbags)
Mom's theory: Talk until it comes out.
So I'm going with mom's theory/advice and setting up some counseling sessions here in mehpuhlus.(mpls) my new favorite way to say minneapolis).
Reasons why this also blows sweaty balls (similar to that of Spring Break '08)
1. I think I'm smarter than every psychologist I see, and therefore do not value their opinion. I know me better than they do.
2. I am infinitely trying to make a good impression on people, and therefore do not like to cry or reveal information that may reflect poorly on me. Which, in turn, reflects poorly on me.
3. I am flaky and after 3 sessions I'm usually sick of the person.
4. Talking it out I can do with friends, my mom gives me advice, and I don't want to go on anti-anxiety pills, so what the fuck can they do for me?
ok, time to go study. oh what am I studying? funny you should ask, i'm a motherfucking psych major and am trying to get into a great grad school so i can one day do exactly what i just whined incessantly about.
SOLID.
Five songs I just have never gotten sick of:
-King of Carrot Flowers pt.1 - Neutral Milk Hotel
-Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley
-When You Come Back Down - Nickel Creek
-Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits
-Samson - Regina Spektor (well, I haven't yet, and I doubt I will...this is the newest addition to my list)
When Joe challenged me to go a few weeks without mentioning Ryan in this, I wasn't worried. But I am officially disappointed in my inability to write interesting, comprehensive, or thought-provoking entries worth someone's time besides my own.
I could have just recorded part of me and Whit's conversation today on the drive back up to school. About faith and politics, how extremes are divisive though they claim to unify. On the other hand, I have that conversation so often, with Whit, with Eric, with Brian...I feel like I have exhausted my ability to eloquently explain why I will never put a label on my faith, or pledge to a political group. Though for all intents and purposes, I absolutely believe in God, and I will probably always vote democratic. I have no trust in the institutions that plague America today. I have trust in few individuals, but a few individuals is better than no one at all.
In other news, break blew a lot of sweaty balls. I worked 40 hours, and hung out as often as I could with my friends. Tried to make spring break as xcorex as we could given that we were in a small southeastern wisconsin town that was dumped on by 16 inches of snow. IN LATE MARCH. fuck the weather.
Also, my stomach ache, my perpetual bad-butterflies-in-the-tummy anxiety stomach ache that has escalated to full scale hyperventilating on a regular basis is becoming...an issue.
Linda's theory: You're scared because your life is falling apart (Thanks bitch)
Dad's theory: You need a boyfriend, and you're scared because you fucked me out of a lot of money last year (no, douchebag you fucked me out of BU because you're wife wanted to move to a ridiculous house on a ridiculous lake next to ridiculous rich fuckbags)
Mom's theory: Talk until it comes out.
So I'm going with mom's theory/advice and setting up some counseling sessions here in mehpuhlus.(mpls) my new favorite way to say minneapolis).
Reasons why this also blows sweaty balls (similar to that of Spring Break '08)
1. I think I'm smarter than every psychologist I see, and therefore do not value their opinion. I know me better than they do.
2. I am infinitely trying to make a good impression on people, and therefore do not like to cry or reveal information that may reflect poorly on me. Which, in turn, reflects poorly on me.
3. I am flaky and after 3 sessions I'm usually sick of the person.
4. Talking it out I can do with friends, my mom gives me advice, and I don't want to go on anti-anxiety pills, so what the fuck can they do for me?
ok, time to go study. oh what am I studying? funny you should ask, i'm a motherfucking psych major and am trying to get into a great grad school so i can one day do exactly what i just whined incessantly about.
SOLID.