Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far, far away from here

But hey, who remembers random movie quotes anyway.

This weekend's been rough. I've spent far too much time thinking. And drinking. Though, fortunately, never thinking while drinking. And I woke up too early 'cause I changed my clocks according to the time displayed in the lower right hand corner below Katie Couric. And now I'm up early enough to blog before work. That's nuts.

Incidentally, "that's nuts" is apparently my new favorite saying.

So, I realized some stuff about myself this weekend. Let's call them, ah, trends. Or realities. Or strange-Carrie-qualities. Such pragmatic (or are they?) realizations come about as a part of what seems to be my new mantra--"what will this accomplish?" It applies in so many places.

SCQ #1
Things aren't nearly as real to me until I tell someone about them. Painful realities seem like maybe I'm imagining them. Now, this may seem odd, but it's really quite useful. Until I tell someone, some things don't bother me as deeply as they should. But the deal is that when I do tell people I feel relieved and a rush of emotion at the same damn time. It's so weird. My strange little reality, I guess.

SCQ #2
I've learned that after each boy that I no longer see I must go through some kind of catharsis. Sometimes before we even actually end our relationship. And the duration of time before I'm finished with my catharses (is that the plural? anywho) tells me how deeply that person marred me. It becomes much more apparent starting with Fred. He was so unbelievably opposed to me joining KayDee, so it was yet another reason for me to join. Sort of made a life-long decision with his stupidity as an influence. Wow. (Man, I miss my sisters.) Then there was Derrick. I'm still dealing with residual frustration from him because he insulted (questioned?) my intelligence. Told me ChE was too hard for me, and that I couldn't have a pet anole or get my belly button pierced. I proved him wrong with ChE (and I must admit I still snicker a little that he got his sole B in a class that I got an A in), I immediately got my three successive anoles (Green Bean, Asparagus and Cauliflower) six months after dating him, and I pierced my belly button three and a half weeks after we broke up. Now my newest debaucle. I have no idea how long this will be in the deconstruction phase, nor how long in life I'll see myself being affected by him. But my first issue begins this week with the advent of my graduate degree this week. I'm also repainting a $39.58 Salvation Army dresser 1) by myself, 2) which is not new furniture and 3) in a bright green color with turquoise antique-glass-like drawer pulls (which he would have fought tooth and nail--where does that saying come from?). I'm going to spend more on drawer pulls than the whole dresser cost. Also (and I should have seen this) I got my tattoo. I really did get it for me, and it really does matter to me and mean something to me and I surely do want it for the rest of my life. But maybe it was a way of showing him that I am my own person and that he couldn't control me. Hmm.

SCQ #3
I buy things as a coping mechanism. This sounds worse than it is. It's mostly pens or art supplies. Remember me in high school? Carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders in the form of writing utensils. Wow.

SCQ #4
I am too honest. I should say less sometimes. Lies are bad, but truth often stings more and pierces deeper.

SCQ #5
I am a sap. But I like it :)

Enough SCQ for now.

Also, Tulsa is a damn small town. And incase you've heard this totally incorrect rumor, I'd like to dispel it now. Justin did not cheat on me. What an odd discombobulation of information.

That's nuts.

work becons.