Vacation was wonderful.

Now I am doing nothing. Sitting and biting my nails, waiting to leave.

I might just need to accept the fact that I am less social than some people.

Finished Leaving the Atocha Station at the recommendation of Marnie. When I got accepted to teach English in Austria, I asked my college advisor, who had gotten a grant to write poetry in Italy, whether he had gotten a lot of writing done while abroad and he said, "It was hard to write while I was there." I had also found this in Italy and attributed it to the Italian culture, which is conducive to many things, but not productivity. I was thus surprised when in Austria I had the same struggles to write, failing to write more than a page at a time, unable even to document my experiences. As the character in the book (who has a grant to write poetry in Spain), I became better and more apt at living abroad. Things that were originally special became less so, my German got better (but I became more afraid of speaking it), and for moments I thought about staying there despite being unhappy for the majority of my time. At the end of the book the narrator describes his year abroad as two paragraphs that he tells to people who ask about it. This is what Austria has become for me, though it certainly had a profound affect on my life.

More on food: Had brunch at Haute Dish. I had the Pat Starr which is hashbrowns with lots and lots of vegetables and cheese and two eggs that I ordered over-easy and I added ham on the side and it was the best brunch I've ever had. They rudely don't have a picture of it on their website. Brendan got the fried chicken and waffle and he said it was pretty good, but he did take home my leftovers as he was a little jealous of my really great meal.

The entire box of herb-blend organic greens is only 20 calories, so I should probably make the world's biggest salad now.

"Did you hear about Colorado?"
"Yeah, that's really awful."
"I know."
"It seems like there are more and more of these things."
"Yeah, there was just a bar shooting in Tuscaloosa."
"Yeah, I read about that."

The skin on my left foot is peeling. I have a gash on my back and a progressive sunburn down my legs. My feet hurt, my legs hurt, but I finished. I had the slowest run time I've ever had, but I'm satisfied with my bike and swim and I finished. I have to keep reminding myself that many people cannot run 5.3 miles at all, nevermind after a 1/2 mile swim and 21 mile bike.

Last night I weighed myself after eating two large plates of food and drinking two bottles of water and unsurprisingly had gained five pounds, probably which is more like 3 or 4 pounds and panicked that I would be too heavy to do the triathlon because that makes sense. I then began to panic about grad school, my relationship, going to the doctor, the dentist, my broken glasses, and sent texts like, "I'm freaking out about everything." Then I went to sleep and had a dream that I got lost because I ran through my elementary school playground on the tri. Ugh.

I had nightmares about Sunday's triathlon. I forgot my bike, my running shoes, took my wetsuit on the swim even though the lake was warm, the car got stuck in water on the way there. Flooding should not be so prevalent on my mind that I dream about it, but it is. I somehow thought I wouldn't be nervous, would have no adrenaline to push me, but of course this was not true and my stomach hurts because of it.

Grocery store:
I eat this much food? I'm like a giraffe.

I didn't think that at the age of 24 I would feel accomplished for managing to stay in a relationship for six months, but that's where we're at, so I'm going to drink some champagne with the person who has managed to stay in a relationship with me.

Sometimes I just have to stop caring, because if I care I'll just be angry all the time, like all this stuff about the girl who punched that guy in the face for joking about rape and Daniel Tosh making those jokes about rape, and I just get so angry because rape isn't ever a joke, ever, and I don't want to be angry so I just can't look at the internet or think about things.

We cannot go out for breakfast if no one is awake.

Today:
Cycling
Lunch
Physical therapy
Swimming
Dinner
???

What if the internet got it right and mostly people like looking at pictures they can identify with?

I suppose it's not really insomnia as I fell asleep before midnight, but I took 2 melatonin tablets and watched three awful episodes of Sex in the City. I get really fearful at night, not fearful of monsters and stuff, though I guess I am scared of that sometimes. Last night I tried to sleep with the light off and got the feeling that there was a monster standing by my bed, so I turned it back on as if this little lightbulb could make the scary things dissipate. I think light is part of the problem, as I've been sleeping with it off a lot of the time when I am not alone and thus when I am here alone, I am both alone and a light is on and I just get scared. It has occurred to me though that everyone feels this way, everyone it's scared to move to a new city and leave behind the people they really care about more than anything. I want to say "if you care about them more than anything, how do you leave?" but people do it all the time and I will and late at night I just picture myself driving the stupid U-Haul and crying. 

I meant to go read 5 hours ago, instead I watched 4 episodes of "FriendZone," which has taught me that no one ever wants to date their friend that's in love with them, all of the episodes of "Snooki and J-Woww" and am currently watching "Awkward," a show I actually don't like at all. What's wrong with me?

Normal post-party ennui. Found myself at a gay bar with a settling hangover at midnight last night. I forget how to dance when I am near sober and find myself moving my hips off beat and wondering why I'm still awake. I already have all I want from the nighttime, I don't need to find it at a bar, though I still do like whiskey sours. Finding myself unreasonably upset that I am expected to be ready to leave to spend time with family at 7:30 in the morning on the last Saturday I have off before leaving. I don't understand fishing, but I do understand why fish are hungrier in the morning. I can't sit and wait that long for fish to bite, particularly when I want to be sleeping. What's the point of getting up so early to bike for an hour and a half? Isn't that what the rest of the day is for. I should go running, but my body feels heavy from all those hot dogs. I didn't take any pictures because I was having more fun lying in the grass, drinking Grainbelts. At some point I will want pictures from yesterday. I never expect to feel this way, but I always do afterwards.

Finally biked without back pain. I think the heat helps loosen my muscles.

Today:
Biking before it reaches 90.
Taking naps in my warm room.
Reading.
Swimming a mile and a half.
Buying beer for tomorrow.
Cleaning out the cooler.

Food network:
Everything should have holes cut in it and stuffed with garlic.

I bought some cute notebooks. I will write in those.

Today I am going to read and write instead of biking. I have to remember that I am not a triathlete, but I am, in fact, going to an MFA program and I have completely forgotten how to read and write.

On niceness:
I don't think niceness is actually the most important thing. When I call someone nice it means I have nothing else to say about them.

I think bread should be made into cubes and then all sandwiches can be stuffed cubes of goodness.

Sometimes I forget about working out and working and just spend time with people I like because ultimately that's what important, you know?

Triathlon training is serious business.

What if everyone is just as afraid of things as I am?

I've been watching too much Girls. 

Do you think before phones people wrote drunk letters? I have a phone and I still write them.

You can tell that Katie and I were hanging out last night. 

I think of grad school as this ambiguous "hard thing" that I "have to do," which makes it sound like I don't want to do it, but I do, I want it so badly, but the reality of doing things is often different than actually doing them. I repeatedly tell myself that doing the hard thing is better, but I'm not always fully convinced. Can't I just stay in Minnesota with all my friends and my family and get some stupid job? 

My eye has been twitching since I went swimming last night. This is irritating.

I finished the triathlon! After panicking for most of the morning and having it rain the entire time I managed to set personal records in my timing in all the events! I'm feel happy and relieved and mostly incredibly sore. Here are my results if you're interested. My overall place isn't very impressive, but being the slow placed person I am in every single one of these events, I feel pretty pleased.

What if I throw up before the race because I'm so nervous?

Things I am scared might happen during my triathlon:
1. I find I cannot swim in a wet suit
2. I cannot put my wet suit on.
3. I cannot take my wet suit off.
4. People kick me so much that I start crying and drown.
5. I kick someone.
6. I get lost during the swim, bike, or run.
7. My transitions will be too slow.
8. I will fall off my bike.
9. I will not be able to clip in on the bike.
10. I bike too slow.
11. My back starts to hurt a lot.
12. My foot starts to hurt during the run.
13. My tri-suit begins to feel uncomfortable because you're not supposed to wear anything for long periods of time after swimming.
14. I have to pee the whole time.

I regard my anxiety the way I regard my terrible feet and ankles; it's a part of my body that I have to deal with always.

Today:
Breakfast
Work
Cycling
Shower
Lunch
Physical therapy
Swimming
Shower
Dinner
Laundry
Brendan

Going back to work. I have a stupid Usher song stuck in my head. Last night there was a 60% chance of rain and scattered thunderstorms on the day of my triathlon and today it has gone down to 40%. I'm going to try running today. And get things done that I've been meaning to do for days.

Current pop culture leads me to believe that everyone in the world is in this fucking awful in-between stage of their 20's where they don't have any money and are uncertain about everything in their future. I have to question whether the things that are important to me right now will be important in 10 years. That doesn't stop things from continuing to be important to me right now though.

I just had the best bike ride ever. It was really hot and there were lots of other cyclists out, but I felt confident and fast and finally feel comfortable standing up on hills and drinking water while riding. I had the same sort of breakthrough with swimming a few months back. Wonderful.

I really like this essay by Mary Ruefle on fear and writing. I could say a lot about this but I want to go cycling.

I need to be more assertive and say things like, "I'm sorry, but talking about this causes huge amounts of anxiety so please don't talk about it when I'm around." Instead I just get really crabby and anxious.

I don't always love Barack Obama, but I have to admit that I love Michelle Obama. Everything she does is so poised that it's hard not to love her.

Instead of cycling I am sitting on my bed in my cycling clothes and crying.

My sleeping and eating schedule at so messed up right now and I feel sort of terrible and chaotic and want to go back to work so things seem more normal.

Twelve minutes is such a long time when you're waiting for a frozen pizza.

Sitting with an ice pack on my knee reading the foster parent blog. So much for cycling today.

Managed to accomplish everything on my list except finish the DFW story as I spent too much time reading the foster parent blog and the banker spent too long trying to get me to take out loans (I didn't).

"I promised myself I would follow my gut no matter what."

When I am crabby the mantra that repeats through my head is "everything is stupid" and I wish it were more eloquent, but it's not.

I am failing at doing anything besides reading the foster parent blog and eating breakfast. This is terrible.

For no reason at all I suddenly became very concerned that it was entirely a mistake that I was let into graduate school, that they didn't mean to take me at all, but some other, better, Tasha.

Things to do today:
1. Eat breakfast.
2. Read DFW story Westward the Course of the Empire Takes it's Way, which includes both mention of MFA programs and rural Illinois, so I can't help but be attracted to it.
3. Finish cleaning up from party.
4. Go to gym. Run for 15 minutes or so to gauge how foot is doing. Go to yoga.
5. Eat lunch. Watch Girls.
6. Go to the bank and getting a savings account because they keep deleting it because I don't put any money in it.
7. Go swimming.
8. Eat dinner.
9. Try not to spend the entire day reading this blog about being a foster parent in NYC.
10. I am sort of in this place where I don't want to think too much. I am not terribly in this place. But things are still a little delicate.

Krista, in her secret feelings blog, which I will not link to as it's a secret feelings blog, often talks about how she cannot help but share what she is feeling, even if what she is feeling is somewhat uncomfortable for the listener to hear. I appreciate that she writes about this, because this is something I often do and then regret it terribly later, but somehow it still keeps happening over and over and long story short I drank a lot last night and a bunch of different things happened to bring up emotions I've been trying to keep doing and I ended up in a puddle of tears confessing everything I've ever felt in a very accusatory manner and have since spent the entire day regretting this decision, but knowing it is somewhat normal.

Is it rude to put on your pajamas before your boyfriend arrives past 11:30 because the two of you want to spend the day together tomorrow and he has worked at night at week and so you've been forced to meet clandestinely on backwards dates that start with sleeping? Should it really be dependent on whether I look cute in pajamas or not?

All the internet does is convince me that everyone lives lovely lives where they are lovely writers that eat lovely foods and all I do is get sick everywhere from benadryl and apply anti-itch cream to my spider bite that's in the worst spot.

I'm going to turn into spider woman at any moment and I don't even like super heroes. I like slightly melancholy ordinary people.

I went to the doctor yesterday for my spider bite because it wasn't getting smaller, just more red and it was starting to look like a bulls-eye rash, which really isn't a big deal unless it's a tick bite, but it still freaked me out enough to call the doctor. The doctor confirmed that it is in fact probably a spider bite due to the fact that it's not healing quickly, there are entrance wounds, and I didn't pull a tick out of my skin. She told me to take some benadryl, which I did once I was in bed for the day. I woke up in the middle of the night and examined my spider bite and the red area had reduced in size, but not very much so I took some more benadryl and now I feel all groggy and incapable of doing anything and it's sort of horrible.

Wednesdays that feel like Mondays. I'm going to clean out the refrigerator.

I have a spider bite on my butt cheek and mostly all I can think is OMG THERE WAS A SPIDER ON MY BUTT CHEEK THAT'S REALLY CLOSE TO OTHER AREAS THAT I NEVER WANT SPIDERS ON EVER.

There is something about German scholars that people find intriguing. I think it has to do with the big words, strung together little words to make something whole. People always say it sounds angry, but I always think that the only thing these people must have heard in German are speeches by Hitler, which certainly are not at all representative of the German consciousness at present, but yet it persists, this fascination with people who study German. In White Noise, the main character has created a Hitler studies program and it seems as if there must be some reason that it's wrong, make him anti-semitic or racist, but instead he just trips over words, cannot speak German. I thought of this because I am reading a short story by David Foster Wallace, Say Never and one of the characters has written a book on Germany before Hitler, the Weimar republic and I have to wonder if the Weimar republic is equally as interesting on it's own or especially interesting because it preceded Hitler. But I don't think most people study German because of this fascination with Hitler or WWII or anything like that. It's just something that happens on the tongue, alluring in it's own way. Like the character in White Noise, I struggle to speak German. In my head, the sentences flow effortlessly. Often I think things in German, translating instantaneously, which one would think was a sign of fluency, but I am nowhere near fluent or even adequate. This brings up the question, how does anyone decide to study anything? Is deciding to study German like deciding to study American history? At least with language that are certain sounds associated with it to draw one in, but in telling someone you study Spanish, no one will utter garbled noises and pretend they have a grasp of the words. This has happened to me several times with German and I always laugh, but it's not very funny, not really. I would not like my own voice to be made fun of in such a way, though the longer I stay in Minnesota the more my voice reflects it. In one of my favorite German films, Gegen die Wand, a Turkish-German man says, "I know all the German I need; ein Bier, bitte." Indeed this was my own approach when living in Austria, but still it seems inescapable, like I was drawn to it, the way the characters in these stories are.

I like to read silly articles about weight loss and diets online and they frequently talk about how Europeans are thinner and healthier and I think I am the only person in the world who went to Europe and gained a bunch of weight and then came back to the U.S. and lost it all and started training for triathlons.

Drinking tea and eating English muffins in bed while it rained would be so much nicer if I didn't have to go out into the rain shortly.

Do people actually have sex under the covers in real life? Doesn't it get hot in under there?

I get so lazy on Sundays. All I do is lie around and by the end of the day it feels terrible. I would like it to be Tuesday now.

I may or may not cry more when it rains and I am sitting at home alone in my underwear.


That might've just happened, but now I'm going to the Tap.

I'm supposed to go meet Blair and Ayanthi at Starbucks, but instead I am sitting here, not yet dressed from the shower and a torrential downpour began and my window is open and I am really enjoying sitting here alone.

I've had my body my whole life and I don't walk correctly or stand correctly. I don't know how this happens.

On Sunday I had a dream that I was searching for apartments online and then I woke up and searched for apartments online. Last night I dreamt that my foot was broken and I was in France with William trying to climb a tower and communicate with French people. This morning I am going to the physical therapist to get help with my endless foot pain. Perhaps when I nap this afternoon I will dream I am swimming and then going out to dinner.

Lately I've been thinking about this prose poem by Sarah Manguso (my most read blog post ever is a link to a Sarah Manguso prose poem and this is appropriate) called The First Time and written under the title I wrote, "I wish this were my life right now." At the time I didn't feel lonely, but maybe I did as it was the winter and I was at Knox trying to write poetry and speak German and figure out Dylan Thomas. This poem made me feel lonely though and now I feel as if it is an appropriate descriptor of things. I will put the prose poem here, though I am always sort of uncomfortable doing that, similar to stealing music from the internet.

The First Time

The first time I saw sunlight strike the each in columns I was amazed it had been possible all along. I wrote down the date and time as proof so it would stay true. And I thought I couldn't peel away after the kiss and ever be the same, but as it turned out there was no sudden rescrambling on the molecular level. O let me not be changed! I would exclaim. There are many ways of knowing, as anyone who has studied epistemology call tell you. Watching a beautiful back is enough to do it. M. says he's call at ten and calls five minutes before. Love? All that remains is to write the beautiful fiction.

I have found an apartment (assuming they don't reject my application) and I have signed up for classes and now my largest anxieties reside in moving and leaving things. By things of course I mean people. And really, you probably know who I mean.

I once knew someone who smoked a lot of weed and described everything as "dank" even though dank means cold and wet.

I can't stop looking at pictures of tacos.

I really like this song. Lying around feeling all despairing and stuff about things. Mostly about finding housing and how stressful it is. I feel guilty for not enjoying the sunshine.

I don't know how to find a house in Alabama and it's stressing me out endlessly.

I really like this silly tournament to find the best MFA program in the country, particularly because Bama is number 2.

I am not letting awful people ruin something I enjoy. At least I will tell myself this repeatedly in hopes that I will not let awful people ruin something I enjoy.

I think civil rights are really important (and I mean this to encompass all possible civil rights issues), but after that I think bikers rights are really important.

I'm happy that Obama announced that he thinks gay people should be allowed to get married, but I feel like that's a little obvious and everyone should just think that all the time and am tired of it being a discussion, when I don't understand the problem in the first place. There's that whole religious thing, but anyone with half a brain knows there's a bunch of stuff in the bible that no one listens to, and if I know that and I've been an atheist my entire life, it should make sense that people who are actually religious know that. Then there's that whole some-homophobic-people-are-actually-attracted-to-the-same-sex-thing, which I don't get either because if they just stopped persecuting people based off the people they were attracted to and loved, this wouldn't be a problem at all. Sometimes I think girls are pretty and this doesn't bother me at all, but then again I also clearly really like boys, so that's really easy for me to say. I don't know, I'm tired of issues that shouldn't be issues and are obviously just implicit rights that people who don't need those rights try to take away from people that do.

I'm glad that just as I feel comfortable enough with my face to frequently go without make up, Hillary Clinton is being criticized for the same thing. Also, North Carolina. Also, I'm never reading the news again.

I wish I were one of those cute quirky girls who posted culturally relevant things.

My shoes match my boyfriend's shoes.

Soooooo ready for margaritas. 

When I think about the guy who tried to run me off the road all I can think is that he is like Patrick Bateman, in American Psycho or Sick Puppy in Girl with Curious Hair in real life, except he didn't go so far as to actually hurt me.

I was biking my usual bike route on River Road and I came to the stop sign at Highland Parkway and River Road and I made the poor decision not to stop at the stop sign as the intersection only really affects people who are turning because Highland Parkway turns into River Road at that point and the bike lane is uninterrupted and therefore I would not be a hindrance to traffic. I know it was a poor decision, I should've stopped anyway, but this large tan SUV pulls up next to me, in the bike lane and the guy says, "There was a stop sign back there, young lady. You're supposed to stop at stop signs," and I ignore him like I normally do of people in these situations and he responds to my ignoring him by pulling into the bike lane in front of me, completely blocking my path while I am riding downhill clipped into my bike. Of course then I start screaming, "What the fuck are you doing, I'm going to crashed." I don't think I've ever actually screamed like that before, it was very ugly and guttural because he was nearly hitting my bike at this point and at the last moment he pulled away and I shouted "psycho," and started thinking mean thoughts about people with SUV's, but then I just started sobbing because I was so scared and pulled over to the side of the road and hyperventilated and cried for at least 15 minutes. What really gets me is that he called me young lady. Not only is it demeaning, it makes me feel as if he wouldn't have done it if I weren't a woman (i.e. vulnerable) and like it was an abuse of power more than anything else. I know I was originally in the wrong and should've stopped at the sign, but what he did was completely unwarranted and crazy and every time I think about it I just feel helpless and angry and want to stop biking on the road out of fear, but don't want to stop out of spite and I can't help but wonder why people in big SUV's are threatened by people on bicycles.

My will is not very great as there was a large downpour around 10 this morning. I'm still going to go biking. I can't stop thinking about the Chinese food I am going to eat after dinner. Finished No One Belongs Here More Than You this morning. Started Girl with Curious Hair yesterday. I spent half an hour in the bookstore trying to find a book I wanted to read and was horribly disappointed by my choice and spent so long thinking about how this is why the book industry is failing, not because of technology, but because when I go to the bookstore there is nothing that I want to read. I ended up going alphabetically through the entire fiction section and did not find anything until I reach David Foster Wallace in the W's. I still have yet to get through the first story in Oblivion, another book of David Foster Wallace short stories. Sometimes he is so readable and other times he makes me feel bored and illiterate.

I'm experimenting to see if I can will the sky to refrain from raining until after I go biking.

When I am about to get my period I cry incessantly and become very upset over things like lunch time being 21 minutes away.

Does anybody really stop having acne when they are an adult?

One of my favorite things to do is throw away food that has been expired. Perhaps I should be ashamed that I let food expire, that I do not eat it all before the "use by" date. Sometimes I cannot find the date stamped on the package and I throw it away anyway, assuming it must be bad.

No stress fracture on the x-ray, but I have to stop running for 2-3 weeks and go to physical therapy and when I run again I have to run ridiculously little distances. I don't know why running makes me feel worthwhile, I'm not very good at it and I don't go very far, but it must because when I don't run I feel sort of worthless and lazy even though I swim and bike and do yoga and weight training.

Instead of going to yoga, I get to go to the doctor and probably have her tell me to stop running, which I won't.

I think feeling impatient and feeling excited are often the same thing. I could say, "You are making me impatient." Or, "You are making me excited."

Friday mornings always sound lovely in theory, but in reality I just end up lying around for too long and feel sort of terrible.

Sometimes feelings are really overwhelming. It would be easier not to have them, but some things would be less nice.

The other day I was teaching an adult class and they started asking me if I had read any good books lately and I named what I had read recently, mostly short stories as this is what I prefer to read and they asked me if I had read this Ann Pachett book, which apparently all of them had read, and all I could think was of that puffy inflated font on really poorly written books that people buy in airports and for the beach, and then I sort of hated myself for thinking about that, because how do I know what's better, I've never read Ann Pachett, how do I know she's bad?

I made this awesome trail mix for the Hunger Games tonight. Swimming, going out to eat with my favorite person, Hunger Games with my awesome trail mix, it's more like the Full Games. 

I am so restless today. I tried watching the Swedish version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but I couldn't focus and so I tried to read Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson, but this was a mistake as I can never focus on this book. I don't really want to read about men and war. The only parts I like are the parts with women and it seems silly to read 600 to just look for women. Then I bought Miranda July's No One Belongs Here More than You and remembered watching Girls last night where I recognized the cover of Tao Lin's Eee Eee Eee and felt a little embarrassed. I read the first story of Miranda July's book and realized I had read the story before, liked the story before and thought about writing myself, but didn't.

I'm trying to tweet more. Follow me. 

I think one of my neighbors has started an exercise routine of jumping up and down repeatedly.

When I was thirteen I found a love letter my father wrote to my mother shortly before their divorce on an old work laptop that I had taken as my own. At the end it said, "I love you more than I can ever say," and it was from this sentence that I first began to understand language or love on any level even though my parents still proceeded to get divorced and I don't know if my father ever gave her that letter or had even written anything else in his life.

Sometimes I like to go back and read my blog and edit the many typos.

Fruits I've eaten this week: mango, pineapple, grapes.

I am excited for tomorrow, where nothing unwanted will occur in my mouth and I can work and draw and read and go to yoga all day long.

Going to the dentist. I feel so sick.

I just want to snug all day long.

It took me 25 minutes to bike the distance it takes me over an hour to run. I am not a fast biker and thus I can only conclude that I am the world's slowest runner.

I hate taking pictures, but I like looking at them a lot. I think I'm going to replace the lost memory card on my shitty camera and take more pictures.

Tax day last year I was just excited for The Pale King to come out. Now suddenly I am having all these economically conservative thoughts about how I hate taxes, even though in theory I like taxes, I just can't deal with the reality of the tax forms. They are written by people who don't have any friends, so they don't know how real people speak.

Sometimes I think we become giant infants. We treat ourselves like we are so fragile, like if we don't eat every six hours then we will simply perish and become unable to function, even though there are people everywhere that have been starving for years and for awhile anyway, they are still alive. I woke up this morning and the side of my foot hurt, because the side of my foot always hurts, and my nose was stuffy and thought, "Today I feel sick, I deserve to stay home and rest," but I don't really feel very sick, my nose feels mildly unpleasant and my foot hurts, but it always hurts. Maybe we should just do better and sit in unpleasantness, be hungry.

Gloomy Friday. Envelope under the door about moving or extending our lease. They would deliver it on Friday the 13th. I just want to stay here.

Bright side: Sushi with boyfriend tonight.

My muscles are so sore and tight that I can't move.

Sometimes I feel like everyone is more together than I am, but really I am doing okay. I'm going to grad school, I have full funding for grad school, I'm in a really good relationship, I am satisfied with my friendships, I have a very poor paying job, but it's a job, and I am almost done with my taxes.

Forgot my sports bra when I went to the gym. I was feeling pretty bummed about it, but then I read something sad and it made me realize that everything is okay and I can just go running slightly later than I was planning to.

Even my dad and my brother are boring and annoying today.

Easter is really boring when you are 24 and an atheist and have no family.

I meant to get up and paint, but instead I read some Denis Johnson and fell back asleep and had a nightmare that I don't remember anymore.

Also this is the first Saturday of 2012 that I am not spending with a particular person due to work schedules and it's sort of sad and I thought about making plans, but mostly I am just tired and am going to curl up in bed and watch True Blood.

"When you're trying to be an independent adult it's hard to admit that your happiness is dependent on another person."


Yeah.

This is how it would feel to date a vampire; always waiting for the sun to go down.

Writers like to write about people who fuck writers because we all want to be fucked.

If you feel shitty or sad or even wonderful, look at this picture and you'll feel better.

I was really crabby yesterday and then I took a really nice walk to Crosby park and the co-op and made a really tasty pizza and had a really good time.

Feel really guilty about not running because it's too cold and I slept poorly last night. Want to post things on facebook to try to make people reassure me that it's okay not to run. Might text dad and make him tell me it's okay not to run.

I need to clean and get my life together after spending all of yesterday hungover in bed.

Sometimes when you like a person a lot you mainly think about them during yoga and not yoga itself and fall over a lot.

Writing things no one will read always. In this way, I am very excited for grad school.

Remember my crotch numbness from biking? Someone did a study on it for me. Sadly, my bike already has high handlebars because I don't like bending over that far, so basically I just have to deal with crotch numbness. Also, if you are a hardcore biker, you likely bike much more than 10 miles. I'm a pretty pathetic biker and I usually bike at least 30 miles a week.

I would like it to be 2:30. Or 5:30. Or especially 6:30. I would like to go back to work so I can enjoy my lazy Fridays again.

I need to go back to work so I don't just sit at home reading articles about Trayvon Martin and all the birth control rights that are being taken away all the time.

Sometimes my mouth wants to start talking and say everything that I'm thinking and it takes all my willpower to hold it back, because it feels so natural, just to let those sorts of things come out.

How to Attract Girls According to Skins:
Go to giant party that's always happening
Do lots of drugs
See pretty girl dancing
Stare at her
Do drugs together
Dance with her
Repeat

Really good weekend, but they're all good lately.

I'm really glad everyone on the internet likes this photoshopped picture of Michelle Obama with natural hair as much as I do, though my very large penchant for afros is well known, seriously though, she looks gorgeous.

I spent a long time downloading songs to run to this morning and mostly I ended up downloading Rhianna. Oh well, we r who we r.

My crotch definitely went numb while riding my bike yesterday. I found a nice blogpost about it.

Biked 24 miles today. So pleased and happy to be in bed.

I've been thinking about writing a lot recently and don't do it. Same thing with laundry.

Reading about Trayvon Martin makes me really sad.

I finished The Girl in the Flammable Skirt by Aimee Bender yesterday. Aimee Bender is one of those people I've read a lot and always enjoy and remember the stories and forget who wrote them. She does this thing where she writes implausible things, things that sound like fairy tales, but doesn't write them like a fairy tale, but as if that's just how things are and I like that and sometimes I try to do the same thing, but it's not quite as successful as when she does it.

I locked my keys in my car before running (I was in a tight parking space and my backpack closed the door partway and it refused to open) so instead of a nice run by the river I had to run uphill to my dad's house to get my spare key. Sometimes I am sort of stupid. Also, I had leftover celery from my brisket, so I got raisins in order to make ants on a log.

Triathlon training has taken over my life and I am just lying back and letting it happen.

I really like being around people a lot. But I like to do most activities by myself. I've come to realize this repeatedly over the last several months.

My stomach doesn't like St. Patrick's day. There is evidence of this on multiple sidewalks in Minneapolis.

Riding my road bike was really terrifying. I fell over trying to clip in almost immediately and scraped myself up everywhere, but then things got better and I went for a beautiful bike ride with my dad by the river and downtown St. Paul.

I don't know why I'm making corned beef and cabbage as I don't particularly like beef at all, in fact I actively dislike it, yet I find myself making corn beef and cabbage at 6:30 in the morning.

Despite the break, life remains busy and wonderful. Went running outside again today, gonna go get shoes for my bike and maybe do a fitting, but first my favorite sandwich and yogurt.

I'm gonna eat lunch and then put on a cute dress and go read/write/study German outside.

Sometimes I think I have everything I want.

Yesterday I bought a road bike, I would tell you what kind, but all I remember is that it's some kind of Jamis with an aluminum frame and I need to buy shoes that clip in and it costs more than some cars. After riding my steel-frame cruiser for two years, I am excited to ride a lightweight bike meant to go really fast, but I am terrified of this at the same time, hence why I originally wrote "face" instead of fast because my dad fractured a lot of bones in his face riding his bike.

Also I'm going running outside today. I'm really nervous. The worst part about running outside is that I can't just quit, I have to keep going. The run is just over 6 miles long, which I know I can do as I did it before, months ago, when I was in much less good shape than I am now and weighed 20 pounds more, so in theory this should be really excellent, but we'll see.

Today I went to Walgreens and bought acne face wash (the same face wash I have been buying since I was sixteen and worried won't exist in Europe both times I went and both times it did), a stick of concealer, toothpaste, and chocolate. I've never been so self-conscious about my purchases combined with the zit that I've been picking at on my face.

I'm bummed that Kucinich lost the primaries in Ohio.

I want to make another pizza right now.

My apartment still smells like the pizza we made. I'm so impressed with how it turned out.

Sometimes I think I want to be a baby sloth and lie in bed all day.

It's beautiful outside, I ran over 7 miles, and I'm making pizza tonight. Life is really excellent.

It's probably good I don't have money for tattoos. At this moment I want to get them everywhere. Except my face.

Moped around all day and then realized I was being utterly over-dramatic and now I'm going to yoga and Wet Paint to get supplies to finish my picture.

Got egg yolk all over my shirt. I want it to be Saturday.

David Foster Wallace has this story in Brief Interviews with Hideous Men  about this girl who is very depressed and because she is very depressed spends all her time talking on the phone with people about how depressed she is, but then becomes paranoid that she's a burden on her friends and that they are avoiding talking to her and in order to reassure herself that she is not a burden she begins calling her friends all the time to the point that they actually are avoiding her and she has become a burden. I've been thinking about this story all day long, even though it isn't very relevant to me right now, I just feel rather anxious (by rather anxious I mean extremely so, the kind where it feels like little ants are crawling around my veins) and this anxiety will probably fade within a couple of days, but it's really hard to talk to people and tell them you are upset. It's like my being upset is repelling, even though I don't feel this way when people talk to me and they're upset. But picking up the phone was the right choice and I feel significantly better now than I did and am glad I didn't just try to sit and wallow in my anxiety. Anxiety is hard to wallow in as it is too active.

I feel somewhat terrible today. There is anxiety everywhere. I haven't felt anxious in a long time and it's making me uncomfortable.

Today I made the discovery that when I don't overfill the dryer, my clothes actually come out dry.

The only things that can make me drive in the snow are yoga classes, work, and seeing certain people. Sadly, these are the only things on my schedule today.

While I was running this morning I got a craving for butter.

On Tuesdays I always try to get shit done after work and instead end up sitting on my computer for way too long. Bought some nail stickers, but was too cheap to buy conditioner even though I'm almost out and it doesn't actually matter if I buy it today or in two days as I really do need more, but it seems like it matters and I don't really mind an extra trip to the store and would like my nails to look nice tomorrow rather than the next day.

I am going to drown my athletic sorrows in Annie's Peace Pasta and Danny's puzzle which I have taken over.

Awful day in swimming. When I try to go fast, which is everyone else's moderate, I just end up flailing all my limbs in a ridiculous manner and then crying underwater because I can't keep up with anyone and feel like I am just trying to be athletic when really I just want to sit on the couch eating pizza and drinking lots of wine. This is why I never did sports as a kid.

Plan for the day:
Yoga, lunch, puzzle, snack, work, swimming, dinner, sleep.

I went to Alabama for two nights and three days, but somehow it felt like months. Coming back was nice in ways I cannot describe. I wonder if things will always be like this.

I stopped biting my nails again and yesterday I accidentally scratched my cheek, but this morning I struggled to take the plastic off my new box of tea. Whenever I open a new box of tea, I think "there are 50 tea bags in here, this means that it's been 50 days since the last box of tea, though slightly less since sometimes I drink tea with other people" and it seems a larger marking of time than anything else except for my bottle of 100 iron pills almost being empty. I've been craving meat lately, specifically red meat and I don't even like red meat. I can only assume that my body is lacking some sort of nutrient.

I ran 6.2 miles and now I don't want to move or function or do anything at all.

Sometimes I think I couldn't be any happier or like people any more, but then I am happier and do like people more and it's amazing the depth of something that is entirely intangible.

I am now going to listen to only songs that talk about birthdays.

New Skins episodes and turkey pesto sandwich on foccacia bread. Excellent.

My birthday has been so great thus far. I like everybody I know so much. Taking shots every time someone says "Happy Birthday" at a birthday party is a great drinking game. People are great. I sound drunk, but I am real sober and so excited to go out to dinner tonight.

I'm so excited for my birthday party I woke up at 7am and couldn't get back to sleep, which means I'll largely be sleeping at my birthday party.

I really shouldn't read the news in the morning. I get much more upset about all these terrible injustices that normally my tired self just ignores.

I feel really bad for everyone who has to tolerate me at work tomorrow for 7 and 1/2 hours when all I will want to do is for work to end so I can eat my pizza and have my birthday party.

If any sort of alcoholic shot reminds you of me, what would it be?

Things I ate this week:
Large quantities of lasagna
Slices of baguette to accompany said lasagna
Chocolate covered strawberries
Pizza stolen from roommate
My favorite all natural cheese puffs
Lots of crackers
Bacon
Eggs fried in butter

Days I skipped my worked out:
2

So it stands to reason I would gain approximately 500 pounds, right?

No, instead I lost a pound. I would attribute it to muscle atrophy, but I would like to think a pound of muscle atrophy does not happen in two days. Clearly eating is the way to lose weight.

My roommate is not home so I should probably eat a giant piece of lasagna while there is no one here to see.

Did you know it's still not Saturday? This fact has been bothering me all day.

I am late to work every day. When I am running late I like to do things like my hair and talk about how late I am running.

Decided to read Ellen Kennedy instead of Sarah Manguso this morning. Ellen Kennedy reaches me on a colloquial level that Sarah Manguso does not. I think I also like her because Chad said I sound sort of like her and I like the idea of sounding like someone else.

Any way, you should read this and it will be like we read some of the same things this morning.

I don't understand why there are still so many days until my birthday party.

I went back to sleep at 10:30 and just woke up now at 3:00. My body is tired.

So many things.

Valentine's Day was really good.

Either I'm going to have a cute candlelit dinner or the fourteen candles on my table are going to burn my apartment down.

I don't really care about the corporate nature of Valentine's Day or that when I'm alone it makes me feel so terrible, I'm just excited to celebrate it.

I am so frustrated with yoga right now. Not my personal practice, but with the changes made to the yoga classes by this man. After class today I expressed my frustrations to one of the yoga teachers, one of them being the lack of emphasis on form and alignment and the teacher said, "Oh, we're trying to avoid talking about alignment because people felt bad when their bodies don't move that way." I could rant for a very long time about all the flaws in this statement, but I need to do laundry and wash the dishes and shower and eat lunch. Probably I should just do yoga by myself where I will get equally as much help with actually doing the poses correctly.

Not that I'm very stressed, just my cheek.

Stress hive is really upset today.

My morning was so excellent all I want to do is tell everyone how excellent it was, but I will refrain.

I feel very self-conscious about posting something I wrote right now. But I'm going to do it any way. I didn't get accepted into the U of M and all I want to do is write and this only reinforces my illogical believe in fate, which is not related to anything else I believe.

Yeah, so I wrote this when I woke up and I believe there is value in showing people raw things:

She had a dream that her stomach ached. When she woke she found that it was in fact aching and all the night before had meant was her dream-self telling other people in her dream, who were equally as much herself to wake up and take medication. People make jokes about how often teenagers sleep, as if exhaustion were funny. She no longer sleeps this much, but continues to tell everyone when she didn’t sleep well.

 She bought milk on her way back from work. As she put it in the refrigerator, she thought to herself, “I finally bought milk.” But it was gone by Sunday when she had to go out and buy milk again. She has a hard time remembering to clean out her car and do the laundry. She never thinks about socks until the morning.

Her father tells her that he’s found the cure for cancer, weight loss, and muscle tightness. She thinks it might be something revolutionary, but it’s only magnesium oil. When asked why people don’t use this more often, her father says, “Because people don’t like the word magnesium.” On occasion, she watches a show about people who are addicted to strange things, like eating couches and bras.

 The first time she travelled by herself she was ten and on a flight to California. The man next to her was traveling to Thailand. It was going to take twenty-four hours and all he had was a bag of chips, which he offered to her at the end of the flight. She wanted to take the chips, but remembered she wasn’t supposed to take food from strangers. Her tape came unwound. Most people were already using cds. Once it started unwinding, it continued to go until there was ribbon everywhere.

When she’s living by herself in foreign country her landlady gives her fruit in a bowl as a housewarming gift. She hoards the Äpfel and the Birne until the edges become soft and wrinkled and she cannot eat them anymore and is forced to through them in the food waste bin where they become covered with spaghetti sauce and noodles because it’s the only thing she knows how to make. 

I didn't get into Minnesota. I have to leave again. When I cry while I'm swimming I swim much faster, but water gets in my goggles. It's not even that I like Minnesota so much, the school or the state. It's that leaving is scary. I'm scared of so many things, all the time. My lists of anxieties are inexhaustible and yet I continuously force myself into situations that make me nervous. At least people will speak English. They will in fact, be remarkably good at speaking English as it will be an MFA program. My poor dad pick me up approximately two minutes after I found out and had to deal with me crying in the car about how I just wanted to stay here where everything is going well for me. I had consolatory pizza for dinner with my dad after swimming, although to him it was just pizza. We bought plane tickets so I can visit Alabama. It will be okay.

Ah fuck, well something bad had to happen sometime. At least I'm going swimming so that if I start crying I'll be crying in the water.

As Friday mornings are generally the only mornings in which I am allowed to do nothing at all, I like to spend them as comatose as possible until my muscles ache from atrophy and I am filled with longing to get out of the house. The sign that I am twenty-three and not sixteen is that this longing occurs around noon rather than late in the evening.

I like the feeling of being sleepy and knowing I can go to sleep. I like Alabama, and kale, and bacon, and waking up early so that I can make breakfast. I like a lot of things right now.

I made a gym friend. This has never happened before.

1. Woke up and drank English Breakfast Tea and whole wheat English muffins with strawberry jam.
2. Went to barbell strength class. Added extra weight.
3. Drank a smoothie and read White Noise. Appreciated that the main character of White Noise also struggles with speaking German though he's the head of a Hitler Studies department.
4. Went to yoga. Worked on my headstand.
5. Got accepted into a third graduate school, which is not high at all on my list, but flattering none the less.

Today has been a good day so far.

The thought of leaving Minnesota is so heartbreaking. But I'll do it, no question.

Got into a second grad school program. It's surreal. As Michael Martone said, because Michael Martone just called me "This is the only time you'll ever be treated like a football player."

I read the same books of poetry repeatedly, the same way I listen to the same songs everyday. Eventually I will buy new music and new books, but will still read the old ones. I've been reading Sarah Manguso a lot lately, because I always read Sarah Manguso a lot. Poetry becomes different in a happy place, I can't even imagine feeling feelings that would require such lines.

Perfect sort of weekend.

I think I'm excited for the Superbowl because it seems so quintessentially American. I spent most of my life resenting America, being American, and now I just want to sit around drinking beer and eating meat slathered in sauce watching commercials for their entertainment value and though I know all of this goes against many things I believe in, it seems utterly part of my identity.

(Also there is nothing nicer than waking up on a Sunday feeling wonderful and knowing that later will be wonderful too and not just the ordinary tired, hungover Sunday)

Whenever guys are punching a punching bag in movies or tv shows, some really cute girl comes up to them and asks them about their troubles. I think this might be male fantasy more than anything else.

Why is it so satisfying to leave early and go home to bed?

I have this huge fear that we will run out of things to eat and drink at my Superbowl party.

My heart does this thing where it jumps in my chest. If anything, the arteries should be anchors, but they're not. I get a new email and realize it's only notification of the book I've just bought. I'm reading White Noise by Delillo partially because I feel like I should and partially because I like Delillo. I've read The Body Artist, Falling Man, and Underworld. I especially liked Underworld, with all that trash piling up everywhere. Yesterday at work my boss and a coworker were discussing a novel and my boss said, "Tasha would know the author," and I was worried I wouldn't, but I did. I need to read more.

My primarily goal in life is to be like Leslie and Ben on Parks and Recreation. You know, besides going to grad school and writing and stuff.

If only I could simultaneously curl up in the fetal position, draw, drink tea, and eat organic cheese puffs.

Spent most of the day exhausted and crabby with horrible cramps and somehow reached the conclusion that my cramps were not premenstrual cramps at all, but pregnancy cramps (I don't think these are a real thing) that happened to occur right when I was supposed to get my period. After a traumatic dinner with my mother though my body has decided to actually let my period start so despite my terrible mood at least I am not pregnant.

I have been the crabbiest person all day long. When I'm crabby there are people I like enough that I am still happy around them and then the rest of the time I just whine in my head.

It's hard hearing adjectives about yourself. This is probably an incredibly vain statement, but recently I've had the opportunity to hear many nice things about myself and of course I'm happy to hear them, but not as happy as I was expecting. It's not a thrill I need. For a long time the first way I would have described myself is "difficult," but increasingly when I mention that people disagree in a perplexed tone and I'm not sure how I am anymore. One time in high school Kaleigh said that it bothers her that she never really knows what her face looks like and in my own self-absorbed way I think about this a lot, though larger, how I never really know anything about myself.

Happiness is distracting.

One more time: I got into graduate school.

One of the best parts of getting into graduate school: celebrating getting into graduate school.

Last night I had to remind myself that I'm an atheist, I don't have to believe in karma or fate, I can be as happy I want for as long as I like.

I got into my first graduate school. I would be happy to go there. If I get in nowhere else, everything will be okay. All the work I've put in all these years feels validated now.

There is something really satisfying about waking up feeling really sick and then still have a great day.

Life is pretty good. I'm also pretty hungover. I woke up this morning and discovered a blood vessel popped in my eye sometime last night. Last time a blood vessel popped in my eye it was finals week sophomore year of college and I was really stressed. I think I had so much fun a blood vessel popped. Like how I get happiness hives.

Going to work on a Saturday morning is especially unappealing when there are things I would much rather be doing after work.

Sometimes I want to do things I can't or should not do at the present moment. This list usually includes things like
Eat chocolate
Eat an entire pizza
Eat bacon
Engage in sexual intercourse
Etc.
That's why there are other things, like going out to lunch and swimming.

Probably going to Target and buying toilet paper would've been a better use of my time. But getting a lot done on my puzzle was good too.

Upped my mileage running today and as a result felt great and wonderful and successful and then promptly get a phone call from my second job saying that I currently have zero hours because business is really slow. It's an equilibrium. Being too happy is dangerous and I am close to too happy as everything in my life seems to be going right, so I need something to go wrong.

The worst part about the cold is not the cold itself, which admittedly is quite terrible, but everyone talking about the forecast, just how cold it's going to get, so the cold is surrounding us constantly and always in our consciousness.

I can only imagine how many books would've been in my bed in college if I'd had a double bed.

Me: I'm studying German again.
Dad: Why?
Me: For fun. You know, it's a hobby.
Dad: Why don't you write for fun?
Me: That's not a hobby, that's what I want to do with my life. Do you figure out bank data storage space for fun?
Dad: (laughs) I guess you're right.

There is something incredibly unsexy about waking up and going to barbell strength class. A better thing to do would be to follow my urges and keep drinking tea and reading poetry, but that helps very few of my muscles.

Bittersweet mornings.

It has been so long since I had to get up for work in the morning that I forgot what mornings were like, all sore and groggy.

I had a dream that I forgot to show up to work on time after the 5 week hiatus. It was quite terrifying. During the summer I get insomnia worrying about oversleeping.

The kind of hungry where you are so hungry that everything in the whole wide world sounds good.

For awhile I was frustrated with the people I know in the Twin Cities, but recently, like the past couple of months, I have just been so pleased and happy all the time. Maybe it's the vitamin d or the beer, but it's nice feeling happy and liking everyone.

Brain voices:
1: You should go to both yoga classes in a row.
2: It's morning. I'm tired. I think I look pretty good.
1: If you eat breakfast and get dressed in the next five minutes you can go to both.
2: I wonder if there's a new episode of Misfits on hulu.
1: Definitely stay home and watch Misfits.
2: This is happening.

Sometimes I think I am the most awkward person ever, but then I realize that no one actually knows how to talk to anyone else.

I've had this song stuck in my head for like two days and keep wondering how Jay-Z got to marry Beyonce.

Oh my gosh insomnia, waking me up at 7am when I went to sleep at 3:30 is not acceptable.

Really good night. Goodnight.

My mom ended up canceling for reasons that are too bizarre to write on here, so I had a very enjoyable evening eating Chinese with my dad and brother and my fortune was "you will have a pleasant time." I kind of want to write why she canceled. It's really strange though. It's strange for my mother and she's really fucking strange.

I am having a really good day. It's so good I'm not even bothered that Kevin and I are going to my Mom's for dinner. There's even a blue sky in the middle of January.

All day I've just felt happy for no reason. It's pretty nice.

I bet Willow Smith will never have self-esteem problems.

I've been getting my one hive a lot lately. I'm considering whether or not I'm allergic to something, but if I were allergic, wouldn't I get more than one hive? Who gets one hive randomly?

Hungover spin class. I am impressed with my body's ability to keep moving when all my mind wants to do is eat terrible food and sleep.

`

Uh huh, because you are on drugs it's okay for you to make comments to me on how my house was foreclosed, but I am  a spoiled brat because my dad pays my rents and for most of my groceries, because it makes me a spoiled brat to be really close to my dad and for him to care that I am eating and have a place to live. Clearly I don't know what loss is like and am just a spoiled awful person. Clearly after losing my house, my cat, my dog, my cousin, all of my grandparents, any sanity my mom had left, I know nothing about loss.

I had trouble sleeping last night because some things in my life still bother me. Despite this I am getting up and going to yoga, hopefully two classes in a row depending on how I feel.

Pulled out the sock because the pattern was sucking. Going to find a new pattern, make new socks. I watched a really great video about raw foods that I would share, but I watched it on Danny's computer. Night night.

Fatigue came over me this morning. After yoga I intended to eat lunch and go to another yoga class, but I napped instead. It's like my body knew it was Friday afternoon. Then I swam with my dad for an hour and went out to dinner and it was really nice. I like my Fridays like this. Calm. Now I am going to work on knitting socks and probably watch some stupid movie.

Last night all I could think about was kissing. Then, I fell asleep and dreamt things I don't remember.

I do think about more than food and working out. I think about people I shouldn't be thinking about quite frequently, mostly about how I shouldn't be thinking about them ever or talk to them ever and how if I feel like I need to be drunk so I have an excuse to say anything at all then it's a bad friendship. I also think about how I need to be doing the laundry and taking out the recycling. I spend a lot of time thinking about how my grad school applications still exist somewhere, but yet it feels like they don't, like nothing is going to happen or come of this or like I somehow failed to fill them out and send them.

I just thought: I want to burn all the fat off my body. This sounds so violent, like I want to set fire to myself. In high school I wrote a lot of memoir about staring at myself naked in the mirror at night. I still do this. I didn't for a while, I was satisfied or so unsatisfied I couldn't even bring myself to look in the mirror without clothes. When I think of having sex, I think only of wanting to be naked with someone else, looking for validation of my body. I don't know what this validation means, validation that I'm fat or thin or that I look different than before, whatever it is, it's a poor reason to ever want to be with anyone.

Drama all over the place. Mostly though I just think about working out.

I can run again! I went back a run on bridge to 10k, but it felt really good and my tailbone barely hurts and later I'm going to yoga and it feels great. I feel like I get a lot of shit for wanting to lose weight. That sounds sort of ridiculous, but people make fun of my efforts, my aversion to going to pizza places and eating cookies, and working out multiple times a day. But it feels good. For the past two weeks I've been eating terribly and working out less and I hated it (and loved all the bread I ate). I like feeling strong and capable.

I am going to run today. It's going to happen despite my tailbone, despite being sore from yoga yesterday. Unless of course my tailbone really hurts.

I am craving a pb&j. Doesn't that sound good? I crave them sometimes, I think because I ate them everyday as a kid and now my tastes have matured and I eat a turkey sandwich with tomato, onion, alfalfa sprouts, spinach, and canola mayonnaise with honey whole wheat bread and sometimes still miss my original sandwich.

I was happy so I washed the dishes.

Timberwolves game was super fun and bar after Timberwolves game was also fun. When I am in places where everyone is happy and excited, I am also happy and excited.

So New Years Eve was kind of messy and sloppy because I'm generally rather messy. I'm excited for things to be less crazy so I can get back to my normal compulsions, you know, eating, exercising, cleaning. Yoga this morning, reading/writing this afternoon/, Timberwolves game tonight.