Well Christ on a bike, it’s been since December, hasn’t it? Here’s the scoop:

I dropped out of the University of Kentucky, because I had had it up to my eyeballs with their bullshit. I was rather tired of feeling like my money was more important to them than my education (how many times had I been told by my professors that “the grades don’t matter?”), and it made me vomit a little whenever I realized that the education gimmick was really just an excuse to have SPORTS!!1 After being dicked around by multiple agencies for which I needed to volunteer in order to fulfill my the requirements of Social Work classes, and being screwed over the TA in my German Cinema class, I came home one day in tears, crawled in bed and cried for an hour or two, while repeating “I’m not going back. This place just isn’t worth it.” This was sometime back in March, if I do recall correctly.

Soon after, I scheduled an appointment to tour my mom’s alma mater… a nice, tiny, private college in the middle of bumfucked-Egypt. I invite her ride along, as I figured it’d be nice for her to have the chance to “go back home”, as it were. And dudes? It was fantastic. So I immediately applied, sent in my transcripts and scores, and waited to hear back with what kind of scholarship package I’d be getting. I mean, this place isn’t cheap… we’re talking, twice the cost of UK. Even though I knew I qualified for a legacy scholarship, having three generations in my family walk in and out of their doors, I didn’t know if they had exhausted their scholarship awards for the year. So I was sweating bullets until my letter arrived. And I didn’t get the Legacy scholarship (boo!)… I got a better one (YAY!).

The usual routine occurs, where you register for classes, some get canceled, things get fucked up, things get fixed, blah blah etc. Which brings us to today, my last day of freedom before class starts tomorrow.

Other updates? Well, let’s see. I got a little job, which earns me even smaller paychecks. Saw VNV in NKY back in March. Started reading the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind. Flew cross-country to visit some friends a few weeks ago. Some hellacious family drama occurred at roughly the same time as that travel adventure, and is still unfolding on a continuing basis. And… ehm. I think that’s about it, really. Exciting, right? Obviously, we haven’t missed much in my non-updating mood. But maybe I’ll update more now that I’m not so filled with hate and rage about the school situation.

Morning coffee and your daily routine, be it class or work, do not really mix. You chug a mug, and rush out the door to meet the day, and then WHAM. The coffee starts working your innards, and you’re trapped in Public Bathroomland. You either A) make use of the onsite facilities, knowing that everyone in proximity will hate you forever, or B) wiggle around in intestinal agony, spending your entire day dreaming of the moment when you finally reach the Holy Land of Poo.

It’s a right horrible ordeal to go through.

But I think it should be noted, right here, right now, that the almost zenlike feeling of finally making it to your personal potty party is really, very worth the wait.

I feel like I could solve some problems now. I feel like I could save some people now. I feel… like I could change the world. I really, honestly, truly could. One poo at a time.

Thank you and God Bless.

Yeah yeah, I really need to post more than just videos every now and then, but there are some things that just need sharing. And as soon as my bank account recovers from paying last month’s mobile bill, I’m snagging that track off Amazon and making it my new obsession.

I love The Guild. Love.

Anyway, news… news. Eh. School is coming up next week (gasp, oh noes). Later this week, I have “pre-employment testing” to go to, for whatever that means. I don’t even rate an interview. I just get tested. THE REAL WORLD IS JUST LIKE COLLEGE LOL. Oh, and I love a guy who hits you with flowers, chocolates and love notes, all on separate occasions, but well within a week’s time. Ok, so the chocolates were M&M’s, but I LIKE THEM OKAY. THEY WERE YUMMY. And also a surprise, so I count them! Officially. Hehe.

So here we are, doing this whole New Year’s deal again. I figured I might attempt to write some stuff out while I’m hungry and delirious and waiting for Kev to get his sweet smackable ass out of the shower. SMACK!

I got thinking about this as I was sitting out on the back porch, enjoying a choice, high-grade smoke (Marlboro) and talking about the glaring lack of plans we have for tomorrow. Not like I care. I don’t think I’ve ever had a New Year’s celebration to go off well for years. Last year was pretty much destroyed by breaking up with the ex. The year before was riddled with panic attacks in the wilds of Scotland (Aberdeen — dude… “wilds” is fitting on New Year I MEAN LIKE NO JOKE LULZ [huh?]). Before that was the fantastic experience of blacking out and coming to with some dude fucking me while I just silently prayed he’d get off, go away, and I could pretend it never happened. Year before that, my first and last experimentation with smokes beyond tobacco, which was a huge paranoid catastrophe. I think the New Year before that was fairly good, though. So it isn’t always fail.

And I can’t imagine this one being fail in any capacity. I mean, honestly? For real? I’d be perfectly content getting all jacked-up on sugar and caffeine, and crashing on the couch all snuggled-up and comfy. But that’s all I ever want to do any night. Sugar. Caffeine. Cuddle.

But this isn’t about what I want to do next year. This is about what I’ve done last year. And… well, yes, one thing dominates the whole handful of months: meeting Kev. Read more

And this little kid runs up and says “YOU HAVE GREEN HAIR”

I smile and say “yup”, which was a big mistake, because her two sisters proceeded to come over and talk my hind leg off for the next half hour.  Well, the one talked the most, in fucking spanglish, so I just kind of nodded and smiled when she rattled on about how my hair is a boy’s haircut, my pants are for boys, my shoes are for boys, and don’t I like being a girl? and do I have a Mom and do I have a Dad and do I have a boyfriend and what’s his name and does he have hair on his face and do you have a pool and and and and…

Kept trying the “it’s late, I need to go home” line (and all that accomplished was her telling me which ways NOT to go on my way home, because there’s “alligators and (spanish for spiders) and vampires”).  Which then drifted off into a one-sided conversation about dogs and cats.  And then, to top it all off, little miss spanglish belches some god-awful rankness riiiiiight in my face.

And the littlest one nicks my rubber duckie.  Now I have no duckie in my car

And strangely… when I DID finally escape… I just felt sort of lonely.  Got bummed about it for about two minutes before I realized that I should celebrate the lack of screaming hellians instead… and enjoyed a nice long drive home.  Just the smell of night, the haze and the lightning flashing ahead.  Uber Groovy.

…is how much I’ve walked today, according to my w580i.  That’s 4.2mi, translating to a total of 407 calories burned by moving one foot in front of the other all repetative-like.  And I thought my mad-dashes across airport terminals were impressive.  Didn’t want to believe it til I sat down with a campus map and realized how ass-tastic my routes were today.  From #5 to Memorial Hall to POT to B&E to the Student Center to Funk and back to #5.  Next semester’s routes aren’t looking much better.

Sorry, I know “how much I walked” isn’t really blogworthy news.  I’ll get the hang of this again, I swear.

Anywho.  Got all registered for next semester.  My advisor gave me the lovely news that I do indeed qualify for SW322, which saves me 3hrs in the long run… so I opted to take my (bonus) lazy-semester this go-’round.  So basically, I’m taking one course that really matters, two courses I should’ve taken in clown college, and (finally) German.  Yes!  I can finally do more than get a train ticket! Or inform people that my hat is black and white!  Or tell people to hurry the fuck up!
[I'd like a ticket please -- and hurry the fuck up!]

I’m also pleased to report that my student ID photo doesn’t look like ass.

Came home to find my books finally came in from half.com.  I finally bought a copy of A Field Guide to Otherkin by Lupa, and Witch School: Lessons for the Second Degree by some cheesy looking fucker with a gnarly beard.  I really shouldn’t talk about the leader of the trad like that, but my elementary school teachers always told me that I shouldn’t tell lies, so there you go.  But don’t let the cheese fool you… you wouldn’t think that anything called “Witch School” would be serious or valuable, but I really love their approach, and their First Degree program was pretty much awesome.  Nothing I didn’t know already, but you have to go through the motions.
So I flipped through both.  Beelined right for the Angels section in Otherkin… just to see… and yes, I’m in there!  Looked at the TOC in Second Degree and saw there is a section on sex magick.  As always, they have a very solid and mature approach… but I couldn’t read it without flailing (I have a habit of flailing whenever I have one of those overwhelming in-love moments).  Sex is sacred, a union of the God and Goddess, a union of… flail… God… flail… union… FLAIL.

On the subject of sacred sexual symbolism, my lilies opened today   I don’t know if they opened this morning and I just didn’t notice (I was in a sort of rush), or if they popped when I was off burning calories, but it was a very nice treat to see that on returning home.  Ahhh, flowers.  Aaaaahhhh, guys that actually buy you flowers.  I always laughed at the idea of getting flowers, until I actually found someone who believes in ‘em… and they really are special.  All I have to do is look at them, and my face busts.
All I have to do is look at him, and my face busts.
All I have to do is think about him, and my face busts…