Hiatus

OK, I know I've been gone for a while. A lot of things have gone down since early May, the hardest of which was losing my little nephew on Mother's day, after just a few hours here on earth. In the midst of the tough times in my family, along with work and some assorted grad school nightmares, it's been hard to get on here and write. Partly because I've made most of my posts so generic and general, so as not to give any intimate details that might later incriminate me should they get into the wrong hands, and partly because it's hard to find a witty way to relate a lot of what's been going on. I've turned inward these days--thinking about where I am, what I'm doing, what's next. What's really important. And while my connections with my friends and family are stronger than they have probably ever been, my blog has taken a bit of a backseat.

So I'm officially putting Peacegrrl's World on hiatus. For now my blog alterego is on vacation. I'm still around through myspace and instant messenger, so keep in touch! And check back...consider this the pause button. Sooner or later I'm sure that this introspective time will pass, and we'll return to regular programming.

Thanks for reading!
-pg

Hiatus

OK, I know I've been gone for a while. A lot of things have gone down since early May, the hardest of which was losing my little nephew on Mother's day, after just a few hours here on earth. In the midst of the tough times in my family, along with work and some assorted grad school nightmares, it's been hard to get on here and write. Partly because I've made most of my posts so generic and general, so as not to give any intimate details that might later incriminate me should they get into the wrong hands, and partly because it's hard to find a witty way to relate a lot of what's been going on. I've turned inward these days--thinking about where I am, what I'm doing, what's next. What's really important. And while my connections with my friends and family are stronger than they have probably ever been, my blog has taken a bit of a backseat.

So I'm officially putting Peacegrrl's World on hiatus. For now my blog alterego is on vacation. I'm still around through myspace and instant messenger, so keep in touch! And check back...consider this the pause button. Sooner or later I'm sure that this introspective time will pass, and we'll return to regular programming.

Thanks for reading!
-pg

A sigh of relief.

Ahhhh. My classes are over. The last paper has been turned in. My grueling annual self-evaluation for work is complete. All that remains is to check a few hundred residents out of the buildings, and summer will have officially begun! It's about time. Of course, even though the pace might be slower over the next few months, my world will still be pretty busy. Two courses left (plus program approval and that pesky capstone paper) before graduation. I'm working part-time this summer, and Mama Peacegrrl is planning a visit (a source of both joy and stress). But the weather will be warm, there won't be any students around, and there might actually be time to do the stuff I enjoy and never seem to get around to lately. Perhaps there will even be a new boy to occupy me. Ha! I AM being optimistic!

I'm jazzed today because I get to leave the office at five, I'm spending time with some good friends tonight, and I've got two new knitting books. AND I get to sleep in tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, it will be the 5-year anniversary of my college graduation. 5 years!!! Holy crap. It feels like only yesterday I was clutching my hard-earned English degree and wondering what the hell I was going to do with it. I've learned so much about who I am in the past half-decade, and I can only imagine what I'm going to learn over the next. I'm hoping it's mostly good stuff.
-pg

The latest stuff

Alrighty, a few things to ramble about. First off, work has actually been pretty good. My staff and I went to a baseball game last night, which was super fun (even though we lost. Badly.) It was Dollar Dog night...mmm, nothing like cheap hot dogs, cheap seats, and staff bonding. It was an excellent time. I also survived a weekend on duty without any major campus-wide meltdowns. I'm happy to say that in just over a week, this place is going to clear out. AND my classes are going to be over. I'm glad--learning is fun, I'm a nerd, but even nerds need breaks.

Other news... I finally had The Talk with ambiguous relationship guy. Things went about how I had a feeling they'd go, but without as much crushing disappointment as I expected. I'm ok about it. Really. Well, mostly, anyway. Of course, my temptation is to rush right out and find someone new to obsess over, but I know that this would be foolish. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: if there's no fantastic guy in my life, it's becaue there's not supposed to be one right now. Or maybe I've already met Mr. Right and don't even know it. Or I'll stumble across him when I stop thinking about it for longer than five minutes. At least I SERIOUSLY hope so. Platonic friendships with heterosexual males are all well and good, but eventually they just don't cut it. I'm lonely, and I'm looking. But I will try to relish the two or three great things about being single, without feeling sorry for myself. (Somebody might have to remind me that I just said that when, a few posts from now, I start whining about I need a man, I hate being alone, blah blah. I realize that this optimism is temporary.)

Holy crap...one more week, and another semester will be over. Where the heck will I be a year from now? Still single? Moving again? Getting ready for a PhD program? I honestly have no idea. I wonder if all 27-year-olds feel as directionless as I do.

The Zen of Stupidity

I wrote this in a journal sometime in August and unearthed it last night. I think I may have been onto something. My question is, who was that person? Where has all of that optimism and insight gone in the last eight months?

8/11/05
How many things in this life do we leave undone for fear that we'll look stupid? And in spite of all our grown up, mature inhibitions, how often do we end up feeling stupid anyway?

Coming off of the heels of a harrowing attempt at love, I'm feeling a little stupid these days. I certainly look stupid! I looked stupid in love, with my silly smile and failure to process any thoughts not related to The One. And now, out of love, I look even stupider, with my deflated hopes and puffy eyes.

But that, I realize, is the juice of life. It's the good stuff. The taking risks, taking plunges, believing in the unknowns. This is what life is about. It's running out and banking on the highly unlikely, fully aware that we're going to look and feel stupid when it's all said and done. If I go through each day deciding what NOT to do for fear that people will laugh or I'll feel silly or embarassment will stain my cheeks, then why get out of bed? What have I gained if I haven't risked a thing?

Wisdom is finding a place in life where you don't care how stupid you look. This is maturity. This is happiness. We should all strive for the zen of stupidity.

Spring Fever

I can't concentrate on anything today. The window is wide open and this amazing early-spring breeze is circulating through my office, making it seem obscene to pour my energy into things like end-of-year reports and budget balancing. Scantily clad students are lying in the sun all over campus today, and I can't say I blame them. Spring in Ohio is a WAY bigger deal than it is down south. We bundle up in October and stay that way for the duration, spending as little time as possible outside, because we'll be plagued with slush and salt and dirty snow (and besides, the sun's only putting in a rare appearance). Those first few days of spring, when everything is melted and the trees are starting to flower and you can smell the green in the air, feel like manna from heaven.

Naturally I'm feeling pretty good these days--large doses of sunlight will do that to you. And I'm feeling restless. I blame spring for that, too--nature's on a crazy frenzy to bloom and reproduce, so doesn't it make sense that people start to feel the same way? It doesn't help that people are pairing off left and right, and my sister is seriously pregnant, and my ambiguous relationship continues to get more and more confusing as I refuse to confront it. I hate it when I get like this, focusing too much on my state of singleness and ignoring everything else that's great about my life.

OK, so I haven't written about my Philip Seymour Hoffman obsession lately. This month in O magazine, they asked him what his favorite books were...and of course he and I have a shared favorite (A Thousand Acres, by Jane Smiley, in case anybody's wondering). Peacegrrl Seymour Hoffman...I like the sound of that. I can't wait to see him play a mean bastard in the new Mission Impossible movie, even if it means enduring a few hours of that crazy fucker Tom Cruise. And I'm extraordinarily pleased to see that PSH finally has a fan site , even if it's a little lame. It's a start.

Well, I've managed to successfuly kill about an hour and a half on this post, so I guess I'll get back to today's version of "work," which basically entails listening to Interpol and pushing paperwork around my desk. Happy springtime!
-pg

The moodiest person I know

That would be me. I'm honestly starting to think I'm some kind of freak. Last week and the week before, I was a bundle of nerves, stress, and depression. This week, I'm a bundle of nerves, stress, and strange euphoria. I look back at journal entries from January, when I was on an optimism kick, and I wonder, who the hell was that? Then I look at stuff from last week, when I was doom-and-gloom and thoroughly obnoxious to all of my wonderful friends who are good enough to put up with me, and I think, well, who the hell was that?

Grr. My life is filled with uncertainties, and I deal with uncertainty as unproductively as possible. I worry about it, talk about it, write about it, obsess over it, and don't do much about it. Cases in point: I need to finalize my degree plan so I can graduate in August...but instead of going through the somewhat tedious process, I simply COMPLAIN about it. I don't sleep well, so I take sleeping medicine, but then I proceed to worry about the implications of taking it--will I get addicted? Do I really need it? Am I going to start sleeping too much? I need to confront a relationship that has gotten complicated and started to spill over the borders of a platonic friendship, but instead of having the talk, I worry about having the talk: have I been misinterpreting everything? Will I get rejected? Will I get depressed if I get rejected? How depressed? BLAH.

I am in a funk today. I slept without a sleeping pill last night, which means I had an actual dream (instead of the normal Ambien blackness). It was one that goes on forever, continues after you wake up, hit snooze, and doze back off; one that sticks with you all day. Super wierd, all about Casey (formerly The Guy, remember?), who I haven't spoken to in forever, so I have absolutely no idea where the hell it came from. Don't you hate it when you have a dream like that, that clings and leaves you with an anxious, confused feeling? At least I'm in a good mood. The semester is very quickly coming to a close, summer stretches out with at least the strong possibility that I will graduate, and the sun is out. Life could most certainly be worse.

Ah...Texas.

All pictures courtesy of islegavia, who actually survived an entire week with me and my family (and we both came out alive!)

The Alamo...

...and the Alamo Crackers.

Me and my tacky Texas mug

Huntsville Prison...also known as The Walls

Big pecan (actually, it's really just a big hunk of painted cement)

Only in Texas.

More about the trip--and my sloppy life--coming soon...

-pg

On the road again

So I got back from Indianapolis about 48 hours ago, and in a little more than 12 I'll be on the way to Texas. Thank goodness I have a washer and dryer in my apartment, or clean underwear would definitely be a problem after my 2-week travel marathon. Islegavia has decided to brave the wilds of H-town with me, so I'm hoping it's a success. My family--mom with a broken arm, sister three months pregnant (and quite grumpy about it), aunt Hazel crazy as always, and Tequila the Wonderdog--who actually ATE her way out of her harness--should provide endless hours of entertainment. It will make for some good stories, at the very least.

So I turn 27 in a few days, and I'm reflecting on the fact that birthdays start to suck after around age 17. When you're little, it's as if a special holiday has been set aside just for you, complete with ice-cream cake from 31 Flavors and matching Strawberry Shortcake dinnerware. When you're older, it's just about getting older. Sure, you might get a free margarita out of the deal, and some well-meaning friend will try and get you humiliated by the waitstaff at Ruby Tuesday's, but overall the shine has definitely worn off. I'm about to round the bend to 30, the biological clock is ticking as always, and I don't feel like I've accomplished much of anything. Welcome to the self-pity-fest known as the quarterlife crisis.

Well, with a stack of things to do before I can blow out of here I guess I'd better quit reflecting and get to work. By the way, Peacegrrl's World reached a milestone last week: 7,000 hits (since I put in a counter, anyway, and I can't remember when that was). Cool. I know this blog can be terribly whiny and self-indulgent, but I hope it's at least a little entertaining, too. Thanks for reading!
-pg

Damn you, chocolatey goodness!

So I just ate a king-size Three Musketeers bar. It's divided into two little bars, so that ideally you will eat one and save the other for later. As if. Three Musketeers is not a choice candy bar, it's the one I get because it's supposedly "big on chocolate, not on fat." But that fluffy crap in the middle is SO not chocolate. All you're really getting is the outside shell, and of course the miniscule amount of real chocolate in that little half-bar isn't enough. The point is that now, having consumed the whole thing, I have both a sugar high and a mild stomach ache. Blah.

What else can I complain about? Well, I'm missing South by Southwest, a big film/music festival down in Austin this week. Who's going to be there? Oh, nobody big. Just a whole crapload of famous people and under-appreciated indie bands...and NEIL YOUNG. Piss. But it's ok--Death Cab for Cutie and Franz Ferdinand will be in Austin on March 29th. Definite possibilty for when I'm down in TX for spring break...provided islegavia is up for it. Speaking of whom, islegavia's
window is famous! Immortalized forever on urbanohio.com! Who knew.

This week I am uncharacteristically happy because I'm off to Indy for a conference this weekend. Having never explored the great midwestern cities, this is kind of exciting. Actually, I'm more excited about escaping from the sea of drunken undergrads just in time for St. Patrick's Day. Several of my favorite people are job searching this weekend. I wish them luck, but it's a major downer because I don't want them to leave. There are many "worst things" about working in higher ed, but I think one of them is the fact that there are no constants. Your student population obviously changes, but so do your coworkers. Most folks don't stick around for longer than 3-5 years. For me, so dependant on my surrogate family of colleagues, this is a major drag. And yet another factor in my ongoing inner debate about whether or not to stay out in the world or go back to TX and be with my family.

Alrighty, an hour and a half left in the office and I need to have something to show for it, so I'm out. Safe St. Patrick's Day to all...
-pg

A Phillip Seymour Hoffman love story.

Ok. I realize, as I have stated time and time again, that I am the only female alive willing to admit that I find Phillip Seymour Hoffman remotely attractive. This isn't an actor with a fan site full of screensavers and wallpaper and gushing comments. But I can't help it. I love him. And now he has an OSCAR, so back off!!!

Oh, Phillip (can I call you Phil?), when did my affections begin? Maybe it was when you played that junkie on the 1991 episode of Law and Order. Or maybe you won my heart when you tried to bring father and son together in Magnolia. In any case, State and Main and Empire Falls pretty much sealed it. Sure, they say you're chubby and unattractive, but I say you're portly and endearing. If you ever get lonely, just call the peacegrrl.

Alrighty, enough of that. Last night was the annual pg oscar party, and hilarity certainly ensued. I annoyed everyone during the montages with my endless proclamations of "I've seen that! It's good!", and was even more obnoxious when all of my oscar predictions came true. But my friends endured all of it, and seriously cheered me up after a depressing weekend. I'm so relieved that the semester is half over, and that ACPA and Spring Break are just around the corner. And that I'm only on duty on more time this month--my weekend was total hell. I am not exaggerating--I was up both nights until 4am dealing with alcohol abuse in some form (including some girl-on-girl fighting in one of the halls!), and my pager went off so many times that the battery literally died. Blah! At least it's over and I survived. It's a new week, and I vow to keep my pissiness to a minimum. Maybe I'll give up pessimism for Lent?
-pg

Thursday musings

I don't really have anything new or interesting to say, but I'm sick of that super-depressing post from last Friday being the first thing on the page. So here I am. Thursday afternoons are my favorite--I'm done with class for the week, only in the office until five, and the weekend is finally within striking distance. Yesterday was such a horrible day that I went ahead and took care of all of the week's unpleasant work (phone calls to nasty parents, pissed-off residents, etc) in between crises, so that today I have little to do but take care of some paperwork and play around on Myspace. What I really want to do is go home and read. I started Darcy and Elizabeth, a super-nerdy Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice sequel. I love it, but I'm thinking as I read, is this the female equivelant to playing Dungeons and Dragons? All this going on and on about a book that was written like 200 years ago? Did you know that there are dozens of sequels to P&P out there? Not to mention all of the remakes and movies. Why do we get so darned excited when Darcy, who has been a real dip shit through most of the book, finally wins Elizabeth over? And how geeky is it that these are the things I spend my time wondering about?

I'm emotionally drained. I'm not sure if it's my ever-stressful job, all the excitement of my sister's pregnancy (which I'll admit makes me a little wistful, since I can't even get a date, and there she is having babies), this disaster of a crush situation, or what. Yesterday my boss paid me a big complement. Apparently I got off on one of my many tangents at a meeting earlier this week, and he said that the passion that I exhibit about what I do shows that I have a lot of potential. I feel good that he sees potential in me, but my big question to him was, what do I do if I feel like I'm all passion and no action? Just a bundle of emotions and reactions, and maybe excessive complaints, without a whole lot to show for it. I don't know where to put all of my energy, and half the time I feel like I don't have any. I think all of this just means I need a SERIOUS vacation. Does anybody want to go to Cancun? Or on a cruise? Or anywhere that's warm and has good drinks?

Isn't it 5 yet?
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"Why can't it be me? Why can't I be the one?"

That's a line from Muriel's Wedding. When she says it, she's a tearful, snot-covered mess, lamenting her aloneness and feeling pretty much like nothing. Not unlike how I feel at the moment.

Tonight's whatever-it-was with Crush was most assuredly NOT a date. I grew suspicious of this when I paid for my own movie ticket. Ambiguity was introduced when he bought the coffee, but the fears were confirmed when I was summarily dropped off at about five after ten. And when I say "dropped off," I mean it--not walked to the door. I don't even think he stuck around to make sure I made it in.

Now, I acknowledge that maybe it was me--maybe I was too edgy, so obviously nervous about the situation that my body language indicated that I was not interested. I've been accused of this more than once. And I was supposed to come out and say something tonight, and I didn't. I swear, the words were literally stuck in the back of my throat. I did, however, throw out a compliment at the end--"I really enjoy hanging out with you." To which he replied, "Good times." Not the response I suppose I was hoping for.

And here I am, feeling like Muriel, all stupid and disappointed, and hopeless, knowing this feeling as well as I do. Figuring that this is my life. I guess this means I'll be back on the fucking online dating scene. So I can get my hopes up again, have a lousy date (although at least I'll know it's a date), and end up feeling about like I do right now when I get home or he doesn't call or whatever. I know it sounds like a vicious cycle, the very definition of idiotic behavior, but what else am I supposed to do? I don't want to be alone. People aren't supposed to be alone. Society (not to mention the smug marrieds and serial daters with whom I generally interact) certainly does its best to remind us of this every day.

Man, I had big hopes for this one. I believed it. I was ready for the next step. I thought maybe this blog would change from "peacegrrl's rants about the bullshit of being single" to "peacegrrl's blissful reflection on finally having someone in her life." Alas, here we are again. For those who have been reading for a while, I'm sorry that I keep repeating the same pattern. I'm just not sure what the hell I'm doing wrong.

My Space

I've been sucked into the revolution, and I have a myspace page now. I don't think it's nearly as cool as the blog, but it does have a musical soundtrack, which is kind of nice. Check it out if you get a chance.

Also--the crush and I have a pseudo-date this weekend. I call it "date" because it involves dinner and a movie and only the two of us. AND I swear, there has been some major flirting happening. I call it "pseudo" because I'm not sure who's paying for what. And it's still an undefined relationship. Legions of friends (okay, two people) are telling me this is the time to bust a move. However, I am hesitant for a number of reasons, the main one being stubbornness. I don't feel I should have to be the one to say anything. Which is probably why I'm in this predicament. Maybe I'll just pay him a really good compliment, telling him without really telling him. Some not-so-subtle line about how I've never been half as comfortable around any guy (well, straight guy) as I always seem to be around him. Which is actually true. Or maybe (and more likely) I will chicken out, nothing will happen, and I will end up just as confused as before. I think both of us are "special needs" when it comes to relationships. Maybe I'm banking on the idea that two wrongs make a right? Shit. Am I ready for the world of the emotionally mature relationship? It's a question I've asked many times, and I don't seem any closer to finding an answer.

Argh. Enough. I'm having a good week--I talked to K-dog last night, which is awesome, considering I've been such a shitty friend. And tonight there's a marathon of the BBC version of
The Office on PBS! Time to go.
-pg

Auntie Peacegrrl?

So the big news for the year is...I'm going to be an aunt! It's all very unexpected, but sister peacegrrl is due on September 28th. I'm extremely jazzed. I think being the spoiling eccentric aunt will be awesome. And when the baby starts to smell or get annoying, I can just give her back! :-) Of course this is me putting a positive spin on the fact that I'm a little jealous that my sister, who is three years younger, is quite a bit ahead of me in terms of the whole "settled down life" thing. I'm still chasing after the crush (although developments may be pending, stay tuned!), and STILL pondering whether or not to do the online dating meat market. My life follows a very predictable pattern, I tell you.

So outside of that big news, not much has been happening in frigid Ohio. Working, taking classes (anthropology is kicking my ass, but extremely interesting!) and knitting away. Only now I have a real knitting mission: baby clothes. Awesome. I'm teaching a six-week workshop this semester, too, which is fun. Every time I teach, I get nervous about it, and then once I get in there, I love every minute of it. Maybe that's my calling. I have no idea. Last night someone put a brutal truth in front of me about the realities of what I really want to do with my life, and it's making me think. Perhaps by working sixty hours a week and taking classes, I have built such a wall around myself that there's no WAY for a guy to find me, let alone time to pursue a meaningful relationship. Maybe I'm spending so much time trying to get ahead, get educated, get experience, that I'm missing my life.

Too deep. I need to relax. It's a Project Runway night, and they're down to the last four. BIG excitement. I love Wednesday nights.
-pg

Better late than never.

I'll skip the apologies about never posting and get right to the good stuff.

First, I'm pissed at that fucker James Frey. I take back anything nice I said about his damn book in earlier posts. And that's all I have to say about that.

Next up. I am ADDICTED to Project Runway. That may surprise most people. It certainly surprised me--I mean, one look in my closet is all it takes to determine that cutting-edge fashion is not so much my scene. But I LOVE the all the pissiness and drama! And the mean stuff that bitchy Heidi Klum says to everybody after the runway shows. It's great. And I have to admit that the talent really does impress me. I'm pulling for Daniel and Chloe, but Nick and Andre are pretty good, too. Bleh, I'm addicted to a reality show. I guess that means I have to stop making fun of American Idol fans.

So moving on, the oscar noms are out. No big surprises there. Although I have to say that I'm a bit pissy that Walk The Line isn't up for best picture. But I'm pulling for Brokeback and Good Night and Good Luck, so I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, party at my place on March 5. I can't wait to see if Isaac Mizrahi tries to grab at somebody's crotch or something on the red carpet.

Okay, on to men. I think I'm putting all of my eggs in one basket, and it's time to branch out. This, however, means re-entering the dreaded realm of online dating, a subject about which I have ranted before. But unless I want to pick up some loser at a bar, it's my only option. So wish me luck as I toughen up and head out there yet again. And as a backup, does anybody have a cute brother/cousin/coworker/friend-of-a-friend they want to set me up with? All I really require is a college degree and a sense of humor...

That's really all for now. The last few weeks have been a struggle, I'm incredibly homesick, and my classes are wiping me out. On the plus side, though, it was one of the warmest Ohio Januarys ever, with hardly any snow. I'm hoping February follows the trend.
-pg

Depression Hurts

So everything's going well. Work is OK, it's a fresh new year, and I'm even trying the optimism thing. And then today I wake up, have a productive day, and at about 5pm, out of nowhere--sometime during the walk from the main office to my apartment--comes the crash. For reasons I can't explain, I just got this overwhelming feeling of sadness and dread. And then on top of that I was pissed, because I couldn't figure out why. I just felt horrible, like I was falling apart. Like I used to feel when I was 8 years old, when I was scared of thunderstorms and I'd start freaking as soon as the sky darkened. Ick. So I got home and bawled.

By now the waterworks are well over, but I'm still feeling pretty gross. I wish I could figure it out. I pulled this crap a few weeks ago, too, while I was in Texas. NOT a hit with the family, I can tell you. Does this mean I'm on the verge of a breakdown? Do I have some kind of deep oppressed psychological issue I'm supposed to be working through? Or am I just pissy because it's a rainy day and I have a cold? And what really irritates me is that I have absolutely no idea when it'll happen again. I guess all I can do is assume that it's just one of those things, life backing up on me or whatever.

Sorry--I really hate to use the blog as a stand-in for the shrink's couch. I guess I'm just hoping I'm not the only one who occasionally implodes with no good reason.

Back

OK, I know it's been a while. My readership is starting to drop off quite significantly. There are a few reasons for my delay in posting, so bear with me. First, I've been busy with work and training, and second, I'm sick, or getting sick, or something, with a sinus thing topped off by a headache that has made it really hard to spend any time in front of a computer screen. And thirdly and most importantly, I think Peacegrrl's World may have to find a new home. One of the things I love to do on this blog is rant--about work, men, etc. Unfortunately, I'm starting to worry about sharing too much, due to early carelessness in making the URL available to those who might use it for evil instead of good. It might be time for an address change. Moving might be a pain in the ass, so I've been putting it off and in the meantime neglecting the half-dozen folks who actually keep up with this thing. Many, many apologies. I promise that if I do move, I'll e-mail you where, and in the meantime I'll keep posting, even if it means being a little vague.

I hope all that made sense. I'm a little spaced on Sudafed so who knows. Speaking of drugs, I just read this upsetting article on Slate. I read A Million Little Pieces a few months ago and was pretty taken by it, so therefore it's kind of depressing to find out that a lot of it was probably bullshit. But you know what? I'm going to stand by my enjoyment of the book. True or not, it was still gritty and freaky and hard to put down, and the combination of growing up around an addict and reading James Frey's "story" sure makes the point that addiction is a nightmare. I myself have a somewhat addictive personality, alcoholism in the genes, and a slight bend toward occasional over-emotionalism, so I've always been afraid of getting sucked into substance abuse of some kind. Maybe it's good to scare ourselves every once in a while, just to make sure we watch our asses and the drunken episode at the friend's birthday party doesn't turn into a regular thing.

So moving on to something happier, I'm feeling pretty positive these days. Maybe it's all the sinus medicine, or the unusually warm Ohio weather (it broke 50 today!), or the novelty of a new year. But I'm just feeling good. My propensity for worrying about everything just seems like a waste of time, and for a change I'm choosing to keep the doom-and-gloom to a minimum. Work? Eh, it'll be fine, nothing I haven't dealt with before. Scary end-of-grad-degree 50 page essay project? It'll get done. Men? There's bound to be SOMEBODY out there for me, and even if I don't find him right away, at least a few people in the world think I'm pretty hot. See? This is SO unlike me! But really, it's easier to smile than to bitch. Even for me! And I'm feeling like if I can just stay on this upward swing, things will really come together this year. It will be interesting to see how long this lasts. Send some positive vibes my way.