Today.

Today I...
Woke up at 4:40 for work.
Got loads done at work, realized I love all my coworkers mucho, and that this might be my favorite job so far.
Went to barnes and noble when I was off.
Bought more books than I should of. Wondered if I will ever feel like I have enough books. I won't.
Bought a cute gift.
Thought about how happy reading makes me.
Resolved to read more.
Took a short nap.
Didn't clean the apartment.
Ate Japanese food for dinner with Pieter.
Bought Chompers new, big-girl food.
Started clicker training with Chompers. (Hope it works!)
Watched two movies.
Decided to read before bed (The Red Queen, by Phillipa Gregory if you're interested)

What did you do today?

Home Alone

So…Pieter is camping this weekend with his family, and I’m home all alone.

For the long weekend. For only the second time since we got married. I’ve left Pieter on his own, for weekends pet-sitting, and the two weeks that I recently spent in Minnesota, which were also the longest time I’ve ever been away from home in my life. What can I say, I’m a homebody.

I’ve never really been on my own so I feel strangely anxious. (and like a HUGE baby to boot) When we got married I literally moved from my childhood bedroom that I lived in for 22 years into the apartment. I still only have half of my stuff because I have 22 years worth of stuff in that bedroom and only so much room in the apartment. It’s not that I don’t like to be at home alone because I do, but it’s really quiet at night at the apartment complex.

At least this time Pieter’s gone I have Chompers to keep me company. Sunday is going to be pretty strange; I’m going to have all day to myself.

I’m probably going to spend the day watching Big Bang Theory and finally alphabetizing by books.  And finally washing the carpets. And going to Costco to buy a fan. And giving Chompers a bath. But more likely doing nothing and not showering.

Hopefully tomorrow afternoon I remember to leave a light on when I leave so I don’t come hope to a unnervingly dark and empty apartment.

Serious Case Of The Ouchies

Today I got my nose pierced.

Not my septum, like both my baby sibling and co-worker suggested, but rather the right side. My right, not yours.

It’s something that I had wanted for a very long time, and I finally decided that I should just do it, and I can always take it out and allow the hole to close up if I don’t want it anymore.

This was the most painful experience of my life.

I’m done getting piercings. While the piercing guy was quick, fun to talk to, and an all out hottie, it did not take away from my desire to scream and smack him all around the face and neck while he put the needle through my nostril, dragged it all of the rest of the way thru, and then insert the stud, then continue to touch it for cleaning. I flinched something fierce once or twice (or five times) when he was cleaning it, and I opened my eyes and he had a Q-tip near my eye. The three burly cholos who were tattooing/being tattooed were unimpressed by me going ‘this hurts. This really really hurts. Oh. My. God. This hurts. This hurts so bad!’ And then sniffling because I was crying a little but mostly because I had just had an eighteen gauge needle rammed through my nose. So definitely not going to get another piercing anytime soon…and by soon I mean ever. It’s so much worse with the needle over the gun. Hopefully the piercing heals quickly, because right now it has a slight ring of blood around the stud, which is just a simple silver with a small rhinestone.

I have been home for three hours, husband has clearly seen it, but has refused to acknowledge it. Oh he saw it when I walked in, but is simply acting like it’s not happening. To be fair, he has had a tough week; I cut my hair really short, and then dyed it red both of those things he did not like, and then I come home with a hole in my nose.

Quarter Life Crisis

The last five to six-ish weeks of the semester are always the hardest. (In my opinion at least.)

And I don’t know if it’s because I really because I’m not really into my classes this semester, but I’m kind of (possibly thinking about, wondering how much work it would be, how I would go about doing it, who I would talk to about it, if I even can because the school is so impacted) considering changing my major. I don’t know what it is, but ever since I transferred to SJSU I haven’t really been into my English major. I don’t feel like it’s what I want to do anymore, and I don’t really feel like I’m good at it. The grades I’ve been getting aren’t really that impressive, and I feel out of place in my classes. Like everyone is operating on a different frequency than I am. I don’t know if I still want to be a book editor, or even if I want to write.

But at the same time…then what do I do? Do I major in Lib Arts? Humanities? Art History? Then what do I do with my life? If I major in Art History what the hell do I do with my life? Become a museum curator? Aren’t Humanities and Lib Arts in the same family as English? If then do I bother? Why do I have cranberry juice but no vodka? I have so many questions and no direction at all. I only went to one class this week. To be fair, I didn’t have class today. But I did the other three days, and I only made it to one class. Not one day, one class. Out of five. I might not be considering majoring in math as a major but 4/5 classes attended is not good.

Is this what a quarter life crisis looks like? Because it feels like one.

I really hope that this is just because of the time of the semester, and because I kind of hate my classes this semester.

I think I have a lot of thinking to do this summer before I pick classes for the fall semester.

People and Places

Certain places always remind me of certain people.

Today I was at Costco, and as always I thought of my grandma.

When we were little, she would take me and my brother with her to Costco for what we liked to call lunch. We would run from sample stand to sample stand getting away from the cart, and probably being royally in the way. My grandma would yell at us, constantly telling us to stay by the cart, and to hold on to the side. I still hold on to the side of a shopping cart if I’m not pushing it, Pieter can confirm this.

The only thing that would make me stop running from aisle to aisle was the area with the books. Ever since I can remember I’ve loved books; the way they feel, the way it smells when a hardback book gets a little old, the way a library sounds and smells. I will always associate these things with my grandma, and how she passed on her love of books to me. It bothers me that now her library is no longer expanding, but rather being snuck away in the suitcases and purses of me and my mother. Honestly? I’ve been taking those books for years. I always used to ask before we would leave to go home, ‘Grams, it’s ok if I take these books, right?’ the answer was always yes, but I felt like asking was appropriate.

I can’t remember ever getting too many books from Costco, I preferred the library where I could take 18 books out at a time and they were all free, but today I bought two.

I also bought an area rug when I was only going for toilet paper but that’s neither here nor there.

I know it’s kind of silly, but I always think that it makes her happy when I buy books at Costco, because it’s cheaper. I always thought that she never understood why I would stand in line until midnight or later for the last two Harry Potter books when I could get them cheaper the next morning at Costco.