there’s always an antecedent, isn’t there?

My coffe is bitter tasting. This may or may not be a product of many factors. 1. It’s organic hazelnut. Suspiscious simply because it calls itself organic. oh, and free trade. I supsose that’s the whole reason I chose the flavor. I left my recyle mug at home, so as some sort of consolation I chose free trade. 2. Maybe I didn’t put enough cream or sugar in it. The cream was sketchy, but I wanted some. The sugar was in one of those pour out containers, so it’s impossible to control the amount thatyou take in.  Despite it’s bitterness, and inherent lack of good tastingness, I will inevitablely drink until it has disappeared. And then pop a ginger altoid to avoid the stench of old coffee breath.

I’m at work. At work I type looking straight forward, soemtimes glancing at my fingers, but rarely pausing to look to the right at the screen. Well, at least not until the  end of the sentence. People I am helping continually comment on my typing ability. What they don’t know is that everyting I write is riddled with typing errors and misspelled words. Isn’t it appropriate I just mispelled mispelled? I think it is. I’ll leave it. However, I do admit that my typing skills are above average. I type fasat… therefore it’s a reasonable conclusion that if I were to slow down some I’d be an excellent typer with very few typos, and many words mispelled. Just because I type slower doesn’t make me a better speller. It’s also ironic that my spelling is so horrid. I was one of those high achiever kids in elementary school. Allowed to go ahead in all of my subjects except for math. Eight grade spelling book in sixth grade, high school level reading books, blah blah. I really loved school.

I still love school. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary to be graduating. The final graduation. Maybe not. Right now I’m talking about staying and getting a degree in Art History. I think that’s something that I could really love. Psycholgy was a mistake. I should have known from the start that I wanted to be immersed in the art world for the rest of my life.  I think I wasinitially too young to be willing to follow my own dreams. Now, four years have ended and what do I have? A BA in psychology and the desire to return to get a different degree. I’m not even mildly well versed in the world of psycholgy. I don’t remember the names or the theories. I don’t think I want to. But wait, i’m in the psychology honor society. yep. there’s one for the resume.

 Working at the library is calming. Right now there’s no one else in my department but me. I field all of the questions and phone calls. Not that there’s been more than four of those in the past hour. I’ve always liked libraries. I am susposed to be finishing my reaction paper to this weeks host of readings from PSYC 296. My papers on aversive racism and how it’s rampant in my home town. See, aversive racism arises when you’ve been raised in an egaltarian society, but just can’t help but feel some of those good ole prejudices. THis of course, creates a conflict that must be resolved. It often crops up because of unfamiliarty with different races. Sounds like home.

I just finished readings Chuck Palahnuik’s Stranger than Fiction. I want to own his books. Especially that one. I’ve decided to start a file system of the people, artists mostly, that I like and admire. These files will include photocopied artciles, pictures, and reactionary statements, probably some sort of biograph as well. See, I really love doing that. I’ve also found that although I’m able to remember alot of different facts, so many things get lost. I can’t wait to have my own office/studio space in which to execute this. I’ve already designed my desk in my head. YAY power tools.

The coffee is getting cold. As I get to the bottom it’s sweeter, still bitter. I think the bitterness is from the coffe itself, and my apparant poor stirring skills.

I’m always setting time limits for myself. Not that I actually adhere to them most of the time, but they’re comofrting. I just glanced at the clock (9:13) and silently promised myself I’d start working on my paper at 9:20. Of course, if I get interupted, and I will, this time limit will be extended. This is how it works. All day I give myself time limits. When ig et bored in a class, I glance at the clock and say, just five more minutes. Sometines I leave in 5, or I’ll become immersed and end up staying. It varies.

So. I bought dresses this past weekend. Two. Bridesmaid dresses. How firghtening is it that my firrends are getting married? Did you know that I’ve been in the same relationship for almost four years. FOUR years. I don’t think I”m marrying him. Then why am I still with him you say? Well, it’s just complicated. He disappoints me alot, but sometimes he’s just amazing and at those points it’s enough for me.

Back to the bridesmaid dresses. They aren’t hideous. THey won’t make it to uglydress.com. The color of one is icky, the style of the other is not going to look uberhot on me. But, it’s not my wedding. They were costly. And i’ll never wear them again. ISn’t that how it always is. You know, neither one of these girls are my closest friends. One of them used to be, which is why I’m in her wedding. So, let’s look at my closests friends.. there’s like 5 or 6 of them that I would be hurt if I wasn’t at least asked to be in their wedding. So…. if the cost of dresses reamins the same that’s about 1200 dollars in bridesmaid dresses. 1650 if you include the ones I just bought.  Wow. Good thing I don’t have that many dear and close friends.

You know. I’m friendly, but I think I tend to be stand offish. I find it really hard to allow people to be close to me and to allow myself to be close to them. I think friend making skills drop dramatically as you get older. Or maybe I’m just a freak.

Transferring mid college years definitely throws a wrench into the friendship works.

It’s my time limit. I better get to work.

” People who  come to interview Manson, his publicist asks that they not publish the fact that he stands whenever a woman enters or leaves the room. After his father was disabled with a back injury Manson bought his parents a home in California and supports them. When chcking into hotels, he uses the name ‘Pathrick Bateman’, the serial killing character from Bret Ellis’s novel American Psycho“. (157)