(no subject)

[fredericks]

This week felt particularly long so I decided to bail out before it was officially over. Using an aching back as my excuse (it truly felt like shit), I asked my friend to e-mail me any pharm announcements and bounced at 3:45 instead of sitting through 3 hours of boringness. Of course, she had to guilt me by telling me I looked particularly well today. She's such a sincere liar, and that may be why we get along so well.

The back pain eased up a little as soon as I was in the subway on my way home (funny that) but when I got home I didn't take any chances, downing two Advil and heading straight to my bed. The neatest thing? when I checked the mailbox I found a lovely gift from wc_dragon sitting there waiting for me (I had to call you out publicly because it couldn't have picked a better time to arrive). Ah, the luuuuuuuurve.

I'm in the middle of reading As Meat Loves Salt. It's a very tense ride, and although I feel McCann hasn't done the best job at fleshing out the characters so their motivations are known the book earns MAJOR points for the whammy it delivered in the first 90 pages or so. I'm currently a little more than halfway through and I'm loathe to finish because even though the protagonist is..."questionable", I don't want to see his world collapse around him. I'm tired of books making me cry, dammit! Authors of the world, this message is for you: happy endings - great outside of illicit massage parlors.

I've had this journal for three years and two days (yay Leather Anniversary! cue up the Tori Amos). That's as long as a long-term relationship gets with me. I went back to re-read my first entry. Hee!

This is chizz, as a certain literary character would say. It's my first entry on this journal-thinggey and I'm fairly stoked. Having been exposed to this blog media via a friend I feel like this can be a good outlet for me during a time when I need all the outlets I can get. Things have been mind-crushingly tough lately (mainly my own fault) and its times like these when you realize how correct those psych texts are when they refer to the important of a "peer-support network" (the worst thing about being a psych major is the utter inability to totally deny ones own problems). Since I have none I'll pretend I'm Kafka and use this as a feeble way of reaffirming my humanity (and my own isolation). Heh. I would go the Kafkaian route and walk about in the middle of some convenient square looking for the glances of others, but that would involve some sort of interaction. Being a hermit is hard.
Mood:Chizz

Looking at that one could assume I've changed little since then. And one would be right. Sort of.

Okay, back to Jacob and Co.

Comments

[theoban.livejournal.com]

hehe

'Chizz'

Ah Salome Fredericks, you and your wacky language.

[fredericks.livejournal.com]

"Chizz" is remarkably close to "jizz", a similarity I didn't pick up on until ten hours ago. Shyeah.

For some reason I didn't remember you'd read the series.