Suspicious

We are all guilty of acting, perhaps, not as well as we should in the face of of what we consider suspicious activity.

I think I used to be much better at it. I would resist the urge to lash out; to retaliate. But now, I think my tolerance of it has worn over time. I let myself act in the same way; tell myself turnabout is fair play. I engage in questionable activity in the face of questionable activity.

I still think I am blameless. I still believe I have endured far more than any one person should have to endure. It is embarassing at times, how much I have tried to forgive and how much I have been repeatedly hurt. If coping with further unseemly behavior now requires me to also act less than honorably, then I accept that. I find no fault with that.

Image found doing a G Image search for Suspicious.

I Do Not Love You

By Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Study Or Die

The next few days are going to be madness. I have to get a third of my copyright outline done, because that is the part I must do for my study group. Must be done by Friday; however, I had work all day today and I have work all day tomorrow. Which means I will probably be up most of Thursday night getting it done. Ah well. Being in the study group does mean I get some hook-ups when it comes to outlines for other classes, so I suppose it was a good idea. Just have to outline like a madwoman tonight and tomorrow.

I also need to drive into town this weekend. I wanted to watch Wolverine; but being that I have no money I will have to wait and see if the guy is willing to foot the bill. Having no money sucks. A lot.

Moving on. This weekend I also have to help my mom send out many of my graduation party invitations (which will take forever), I have to get all of my outlining out of the way for my other classes, and I have to get the last of my hours done for the clinic. Ha. I don't think much of that is going to happen. I just don't have time for it all.

I would love to take another day off of work tomorrow, but I need the money. Car insurance, electricity bill, phone bill...these things do not take a pause in respect for finals.

But, such is life. I will endure. I will make it.

It will all be over before I know it.

(Image above found when G Image searching for Study)

Finished

I finished my last law school class today. I feel excited, though it was mainly anticlimactic. Presented a case during my last class, of course. Now I have to worry about finals, finishing hours for my clinic, and taking care of loan things to see if I can afford to take the bar.

Most likely I will have to wait until February for the bar. I don't think it's such a big deal, but people around me seem very worried about it. "What do you mean, you're waiting?"

Yes, calm down. Waiting a few more months doesn't seem like such a big deal when I've gone through three years of torture. I've seen pictures of my friends having fun without me, heard my mom talk about my kid brother growing up, missed my grandmother's 85th birthday party, and lost so much time with my friends and family. I've done my time. I want to have my time be mine again.

If I have to wait, then I have to wait.

Besides, I could use a break after what the past three years have put me through.

(Image above found during G Image search for Finish)

Some Job

I was offered a job today. A full-time, grown-up, benefits package and vacation time job. I am happy about it, yeah, but it requires me staying here. And I would so much rather have gone home.

But, what can you do? I would be happier if the pay was more reasonable. I was making more than they offered when I worked during undergrad. I have decided to take it. And I have decided to continue my search. I am calling it my "in the meantime" job. I do really like it, I've been working there part-time for a couple of months. I like the people. I like the atmosphere.

It's sad, how it all comes down to the dollars, isn't it?

Dinner by the River

Took this with my phone while eating dinner by the river with the guy. Not bad for a Blackberry picture.

Dinner was good and old Sac was pretty charming. It is a very small pocket though, certainly not nearly as extensive as Fisherman's Wharf in SF. But still, it was a lovely time. Great view, yummy dinner, good guy. Where could I go wrong?

I am lucky.

Scary Wind

It is scary windy outside. Windows rattling. Always makes me nervous; sounds like someone is trying to break in. *Shudder*

This picture is from searching Scary Wind on G Images.

Haha- love this song and vid. Beginning is the best. Ending is kinda meh.

Don't trust a hoe!

(Yes, I did that on purpose.)

Found this image when I searched for Bitter Girl.

Just got back from class. 23 more days until graduation. Then I get to look desperately for a full time job with reasonable pay. I have been sending out 5-10 applications a day for about two weeks. No responses.

I picked a great time to graduate. Sigh. Bitter.

Sober

I loved this song when I first heard it; the video just makes me love it more.

There is a bite in the breeze today. It's just a bit too cold to be comfortable. It also has the bothersome side effect of blowing the pollen around, which wreaks havoc on my allergies. Le sigh.

Just got back from a quick grocery run. I have about 2o dollars left for gas until mid-May. If I spend more than that I won't be able to make rent, so this food has to last me a while.

Hopefully my guest won't eat all of this food when he comes to visit on the weekend.

We were debating making a trip out the Old Sacramento on Saturday. I hear it's a cute touristy spot, and after three years of living here I suppose I should try to see what the city has to offer before I move on again.

If it goes exceptionally well, I will try to take some pictures.

Late Night

Relationships are terrible for my sleeping schedule. When single, I think I get at least three or four more hours of sleep a night. In relationships, I get maybe five a night. I don't feel too poorly throughout the day, but I fear it will age me prematurely. They do say drinking water and getting lots of sleep helps with having an overall youthful appearance.

Or maybe I am too superficial? I worry about wrinkles.

There's that word again. Worry. I'll try to stop. =)

Every other Wednesday is Wes' turn to bring lunch at work. This is a day I enjoy for several reasons:

1. He doesn't cook, like me, so I feel better about my lunches when compared to his

2. He always order Chinese food, which I love

3. Chinese food fills me up and keeps me full the rest of the day

4. There are always leftovers, which are always given to me because people at work know I don't cook and take pity on me and my sad fridge, so yay!

And that is why I enjoy every other Wednesday.

Okay, bed time for me. Have to try to get a good amount of REM tonight.

Here's hoping my dreams will be good.

I am a huge worrier and since the age of 17 have been prone to panic attacks. I can feel them coming, and I still remember the first day I had one.

I was at school, as most horror stories begin, and was worried about a math class I was taking. The teacher very clearly hated me, and for a girl who took honors classes and bonded with teachers during class, his hatred was upsetting and confusing. He had been giving me a very undeserved C and had told me that I just failed a recent test, thus lowering my grade to a D. Conveniently, when later confronted by my mother and the principal, my test was nowhere to be found. But, I digress.

I was sitting in another one of my classes and began to sweat. Worry worry worry. I had never gotten a C in my life, much less a D. My college hopes would be ruined. I would have no future. I would end up working at the mall for the rest of my life. Worry worry worry.

I started to feel short of breath and light-headed. I raised my hand and asked to see the school nurse. After sitting in the nurse's office for a few minutes I started breathing too quickly. I was scared and started crying. She was telling me to calm down but I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs. I wanted to sob, but there was no air available in the room. She laid me down and called the school cop.

Then my limbs started seizing up. My arms went stiff around me and I couldn't spread my fingers out. They had involuntarily curled into a fist and wouldn't move. My legs were curled under me and I couldn't move them.

The paramedics were called.

I was given an oxygen mask and some sort of injection. My mother was called, and she channeled her terror into anger over my situation with the math teacher, which she knew full well about.

She demanded to see the principal; she threatened legal action if she was ignored. Within a day I was pulled from the math class. That year the math teacher left, due to complaints from the parents of two other students.

I was taken to my doctor immediately after I regained use of my legs. She told me it was a panic attack. No medication, because it wasn't constant or debilitating. I just had to stop worrying.

I hate math to this day.

And now, I have to work constantly to stop worrying. I worry about worrying too much. It disturbs my sleep, gives me stomach cramps and the occasional sobbing fit.

Who knew an internal conversation could create such an issue.

I love this picture. Something about the red shoes and the rustic background. Reminds me of a simpler, younger time. Before school, relationships, jobs, relocating, student loans, discovering alcohol and a slowing metabolism.

It seems like it's taken at the bittersweet age when youth begins the process of drifting away.

You shed a small piece of it every day you are alive.

Did a search for crushing heat on Google Image. The squirrel is one of the results.

Got woken up the other day by men stomping on my roof. At first I thought it was ghosts, because that of course is the normal person's first reaction to stomping on the roof, is it not?

But it turned out to be much less dramatic. My landlord came knocking a few moments later to further disturb my sleep and tell me that the roof was being re-done and that moving my car was required because the ladder just HAD to be moved to the exact spot my car was on.

Sure. But being stared at creepily by men who I doubt showered that morning is not a good start to the day. Not at all.