Once upon a time (perhaps last week), I was crazily bent out of shape over some garbage. Then again, when am I not bent out of shape? I was a wreck in May, June, July, August…it’s par for the course around here. So what I crossed out some text in my posts and it was hard to read or something? I could sum up all of that for you pretty easily: “blah blah I need to stop liking bad boys blah blah and while I’m at it, I need to stop being crazy blah blah it sucks to me blah blah I want a relationship…oh, wait I don’t blah blah I like feeling sorry for myself blah blah I need to shut the fuck up because this whiny crap is really annoying blah blah.” I blame it on those pesky hormones. This week, however, I think if I was any more chilled out, you’d swear I’m high on the regular. I’m not, natch. Strangely, getting tortured by a 4-year old and holing myself in a basement on DSL did wonders for my disposition.

Sunday, I made the Wes visit I’ve been putting off for about a month. We went there all guerilla style and I went to the office and gathered up my stuff. It was totally bittersweet — downloading pics (though crackhead I am, I forgot most of what I wanted. Ugh…brains. So underrated Nevermind. I did get it.), straightening up, erasing my chalkboard, throwing things out, talking to P. Diddy (or for the cuteness factor) on the phone like I had done so much of the spring and summer. And then I gathered up this crap I had borrowed from a professor back in April that I had left sitting around in the office all summer (oops!) and trekked to PAC. I ran into a few people I knew, dropped in the mail box and I was done. I can’t describe how it felt. I never have to go back. Never if I don’t want to. I feel fucking amazing. Sunday felt better than graduation for my soul — plus I didn’t get choked up like a baby this time. Freedom is a beautiful thing. And the yearbook is getting shipped out in a little under 2 weeks. I should plan a viewing party since most of my friends are wack and didn’t buy one. *ahem* The best part is that I’ve moved on so much mentally that I don’t give a fuck if it’s wack. Not that it will. And of course, I say that now but I’ll be nitpicking on that bitch for the next 20 years. Watch.
It’s nice to be settled for a change. Now my only pursuits are dancing to southern booty music for the cats (“Get low, get low, get low, get low“), mentally counting my money and thinking of the crazy adventures that are going to make the fall bananas. And being happy that I have friends in high places as well as mid-range fun ones. I’ve also reversed my position on what I did last week. Is it just me or is the crop shaping up nicely lately? I’ve changed my gallery age range, so that might have something to do with it. Something about the 23s and the 26s spicing up the playing field.