Get that snowman away from me. I will not be his new nose. Even if I am a carrot.

That math final today was lame. Who woulda thunk? The first half [non-calculator] was fine, but the second half [with calculator] felt awful. There were five questions. And I didn't know how to do three of them. I turned in that homework packet and in order of days assigned: B,C,F,D. Read those, if you will, to the tune of Beethoven's 5th. No. But really it's okay. With those grades entered I still have a 90 in the class, and once she adds the grades from today's final and the final project due friday that I sill haven't started, I'll probably have a B. If I end up with a C? Boo. If I end up with an A? Great. But there's been a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders now that the final is over with. I left the room with an imprint of an octopus in my palm from my compass. Is it silly that I wear it on specific days because I hope it will "point me in the right direction?" Yes. But I drink 20 or more ounces of coffee each morning for the same reason.


Speaking of which, my all day headache yesterday probably had something to do with caffeine deprivation, but I should have known better what with the headache, nosebleed, random extreme stomach cramps, two hour naps, sudden and intense unexpected annoyance with Jessie, and general negativity-based introversion that it was about time I remember what gender I am. The morning of the final, too. Because that's just what I needed. Somewhere in the middle of the day I began to think of how terrible my headache was last night. And then realized something. I have a feeling I may have lost consciousness at some point on the phone, because I remembered saying goodbye, but prior to that, the last thing I remember listening to/talking about was pillow toppers and I know the conversation went on far longer. I probably swam around in a pool of story that made no sense, and said something embarrassing. But I suppose that's a good thing to not remember. At least my head doesn't hurt now. 

I'm constantly combination amused and appalled by the vibrator commercials I see on TV. Mostly LoGo. The amount of enthusiasm those women have is hilarious[ly bad]. The best worst ones are the commercials with eavesdropping/excited old ladies. And the worst best ones have husbands in robes hiding their boners behind the kitchen counter. By the way. I'm hiding mine right now, because my second favourite drag queen is on Rupaul's Drag U. Hot damn! 
Since writing that last "Hot Damn!" I've read thirty-three more pages in 1984. We're going to have a text-based discussion tomorrow on Love and Sex in the book, which should prove to be interesting, not just as a whole, but for me specifically. Seeing as my views on both have changed significantly in the last four years, but that's not something I feel is appropriate for discussion in my blog quite yet. And probably not for a while. 


Kailee and I talked about her 28 year old boyfriend today at lunch. Intellectually I feel on the same level as her, but we've got a significant number of differences. Which is necessary and preferable. She, though, is dating this greek man that she met via the restaurant she works at. She started seeing him a while ago, and they've had plenty of trouble, but are back together again [this month]. She's got no shame sharing about spending the night at his house often, getting drunk after hours and dancing in the back room at Athens. Kailee has been pulling shenanigans like this since the beginning of last year. She would tell me about it in yearbook. And she's still alive, and has a good-ish relationship with her mom, and seems pretty happy when he's not being a dick. Which gives me a well deserved confidence boost.  
Not that I'm not more confident than I need to be.


This Pixar short about the stork is wonderful. I can't believe I've never seen it. But as always it's fuckin' sad, man. In a great kind of way.