Mm. I like having a tattoo placed so that I can obsess over every aspect of the healing process. I feel like a tweaker, constantly inspecting it, hunting madly for a magnifying glass, and fighting with all my might the excruciating desire to pick at the crusties. (I SWEAR I'm not fucking with it.) It bruised like hell, about 2 inches out from top to bottom on the underside of my arm, and all the way down my wrist to my hand. It looks like a damn purple tornado. Other than that, all is well.
Looking at damn colleges today again. I was cruising the Palomar College classes, and the classes I want to take aren't evening or on-line, which is what i need. Suck. The I looked up The Univeristy of the Virgin Islands. They have the cheapest Marine Biology program anywhere, and a few years in paradise doesn't sound too bad. Then I saw a picture of the dorm room, and I realized I'd have to deal with all that bullshit again. I'm too old to share a room with a strange girl, most likely 5-8 years my junior, and have to deal with the 20-ish year old girl roommate bullshit, AGAIN. This means I'd have to live off campus, which is FINE, but that's a whole 'nother hairy beast to have to contend with. Finding safe, comfortable, and hopefully affordable housing in a strage land. Strange land. I like strage lands a lot. But actually LIVING there? No family, no friends, and I don't think a whole lot of rock bands blow through St. Thomas. So basically I'd have nothing to do for a few years but study fish, fish fish and surf the Internet. I'd have to make new friends and cultivate new interests and hobbies. Basically, my whole lifestyle would change. Which is probably a good thing. Meh.
Yeah, I need a plan for when this nanny portion of my life is over. And I don't know when that'll be. It could be as little as 5 months, as long as a year or two. I have NO clue what to do. Should I just find a school, pick a major out of a hat and go? Go home? Stay in San Diego and go back to working (I mean REALLY working. What I do now does not resemble work in any way) for a LOT less cash and go back to being broke? (I was broke before I left...but I was so in love with living alone and the art was going so well...). Fuck.
Knowing what you want andnot doing anything about it is pathetic enough, but not knowing what you want at all is a whole different shit-chip cookie. I hate this.
When you're in a funk, when you lose your passion, what do you do to fix it?
Also, I desperately need a drafting table, a light and a chair. I have nowhere to work and it's driving me mad.
Ooh, it's rattlesnake season. Time to go snake giggin'. I've never seen one in the wild. I also wanna wrassle a gator. Which should be no problem now since one if my best friends is supposedly moving to Florida. Whatever, it's complicated. All I know is, I'm calling him when I drop, like, 80 lbs and he can fly me down there, take me monkey-chasing andrent a sailboat to sail my ass around the cayes. He'll be the dread pirate and I'll be the bonny wench. Yaarrrrrr.
But still, whatever. The fact he's just gonna go makes me really sad. I only have like 3 or 4 people I hang out with here. I'm not bored perse, but it's kinda limiting. Considering none of them really like to do the geeky shit I wanna do. No one wants to go to the drive-in. No one wants to go swimmin'. No one wants to go to the museums, hell, even just stroll around downtown and pop in and out of the shops. I want someone to go to the French Morrocan place with, the Zombie Lounge, and Chuck E. Cheese for some overpriced shitty but so deliciously salty pizza and skiball. I wanna see Cars{/I] and The Break-up. Seriously, I need single friends who have time for me.
Oooh, a Pacific Sleeper shark, 1500 POUNDS washed up here in SoCal! Woo! Super rare. Neat shit. They usually live 6000-ish feet deep. I'm calling the aquarium to see if Scripps got their grubby paws on it. I wanna hear the dirt.
*rambles off into the sunset*
Looking at damn colleges today again. I was cruising the Palomar College classes, and the classes I want to take aren't evening or on-line, which is what i need. Suck. The I looked up The Univeristy of the Virgin Islands. They have the cheapest Marine Biology program anywhere, and a few years in paradise doesn't sound too bad. Then I saw a picture of the dorm room, and I realized I'd have to deal with all that bullshit again. I'm too old to share a room with a strange girl, most likely 5-8 years my junior, and have to deal with the 20-ish year old girl roommate bullshit, AGAIN. This means I'd have to live off campus, which is FINE, but that's a whole 'nother hairy beast to have to contend with. Finding safe, comfortable, and hopefully affordable housing in a strage land. Strange land. I like strage lands a lot. But actually LIVING there? No family, no friends, and I don't think a whole lot of rock bands blow through St. Thomas. So basically I'd have nothing to do for a few years but study fish, fish fish and surf the Internet. I'd have to make new friends and cultivate new interests and hobbies. Basically, my whole lifestyle would change. Which is probably a good thing. Meh.
Yeah, I need a plan for when this nanny portion of my life is over. And I don't know when that'll be. It could be as little as 5 months, as long as a year or two. I have NO clue what to do. Should I just find a school, pick a major out of a hat and go? Go home? Stay in San Diego and go back to working (I mean REALLY working. What I do now does not resemble work in any way) for a LOT less cash and go back to being broke? (I was broke before I left...but I was so in love with living alone and the art was going so well...). Fuck.
Knowing what you want andnot doing anything about it is pathetic enough, but not knowing what you want at all is a whole different shit-chip cookie. I hate this.
When you're in a funk, when you lose your passion, what do you do to fix it?
Also, I desperately need a drafting table, a light and a chair. I have nowhere to work and it's driving me mad.
Ooh, it's rattlesnake season. Time to go snake giggin'. I've never seen one in the wild. I also wanna wrassle a gator. Which should be no problem now since one if my best friends is supposedly moving to Florida. Whatever, it's complicated. All I know is, I'm calling him when I drop, like, 80 lbs and he can fly me down there, take me monkey-chasing andrent a sailboat to sail my ass around the cayes. He'll be the dread pirate and I'll be the bonny wench. Yaarrrrrr.
But still, whatever. The fact he's just gonna go makes me really sad. I only have like 3 or 4 people I hang out with here. I'm not bored perse, but it's kinda limiting. Considering none of them really like to do the geeky shit I wanna do. No one wants to go to the drive-in. No one wants to go swimmin'. No one wants to go to the museums, hell, even just stroll around downtown and pop in and out of the shops. I want someone to go to the French Morrocan place with, the Zombie Lounge, and Chuck E. Cheese for some overpriced shitty but so deliciously salty pizza and skiball. I wanna see Cars{/I] and The Break-up. Seriously, I need single friends who have time for me.
Oooh, a Pacific Sleeper shark, 1500 POUNDS washed up here in SoCal! Woo! Super rare. Neat shit. They usually live 6000-ish feet deep. I'm calling the aquarium to see if Scripps got their grubby paws on it. I wanna hear the dirt.
*rambles off into the sunset*
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anyways, it wasn't really a flood. nothing a bath towel couldn't soak up.