Friday, I started my wacky misadventures by sitting here and taking too long to write an entry, so I had exactly 15 minutes to get from my house to Ruggles, to catch the train. The walk takes me 5 minutes, generally, though I may have trimmed ti down before. Had I just missed the T, I'd have missed the Commuter Rail (as the T run about once every 15 or so minutes when it's not rush hour). I was lucky, however, and after much freaking out about it managed to breathlessly make the train with about 60 seconds to spare.

That evening, I took Colleen out for a very very belated birthday dinner at The Capital Grille in Providence. I felt sort of grown up and all, as it was quite a nice dinner. And I ordered a bottle of wine that cost more than most of my meals normally do. And I sniffed it and stuff.

I always feel like such a poser when I do things like that. Here's me, dressed in a nice sort of way, sniffing a wine and tasting a sip before telling someone that it's okay. I don't even know what's not okay, other than vinegar. I'm just a kid, trying really hard to stay that way, and falling downhill into adulthood way too fast for my liking.

I did, however, manage to lose my debit card sometime in the last week and, therefore, had to pay with my mom's credit card (paid back, of course). So at least there's that to help me feel immature again.

After dinner we walked around Providence a little, went back to her place, and hung out. Watched the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica. So glad it's back.

I went home and watch Kill Bill Vol. 1, because I'm apparently in one of my insomnia stages this week.

Saturday, I slept in a bit longer than I'd have liked. I went down to my dad's, where I mostly hung out and read (This book about an African-American. female police officer that hunts mutants. Those Who Walk in Darkness. I'm reserving judgment 'til I finish, which won't be until after HP), and got annoyed at my dad for all his behaviors that apparently trickled down to me, like a small anger control problem. He was cranky and sweaty and took it out on the universe. I tend to do things like that, and am not proud of it. So yeah.

We didn't get to go fishing, as I'd have liked. My dad did, however, grille an absolutely fantastic brisket. I mean, who knew brisket could be grilled? Some of the best meat I've ever had, and I've had a lot of meat. Har har.

After I left my dad's, which was around 10, I headed up to etoilepb's party where I stayed for a couple of hours. It was cool to see some people again, that I really haven't seen since the last party, last year. We played a funny game called Apples to Apples. seriously, card games are re-entering my life. Next thing you know, I'll be back into Magic. Though, honestly, I do love Magic. Great game. Lots of fun, even when I lost. Which was a lot.

I got home around 1 am to find that my mom had purhcased Half Blood Prince. "Wahoo," thought I, "for I shall read many chapters tonight." And so I did and stayed up until around 3 and am about 200 pages through. I can't - and don't really want to - rush to finish it, as I have classes and such. If it's left, I'll read it on the plane to Alaska, though I'd rather carry paper backs.

Sunday (which I thought was today, but no longer is), I overslept again - this time until noon - which wasn't as much about the reading until three am as the terrible nightmares I had all last night. I woke up at one point and was so disoriented that I couldn't remember what I was doing at home, or what sort of school I was going to. That scared me almost as much as the dreams (which were mostly about me, regardless of what setting I was in, staying one step ahead of maniacal killers). The people that were chasing me were the ones from that terrible Rob Zombie movie, House of 1000 Corpses, which didn't scare me when I watched it at all. I've kept the creeped out feeling with me all day, though, and I'm hoping I sleep okay tonight.

Anyway, when to dinner with my mom and Kate, then Kate had us over for dessert. Afterwards, she and I came back and watched episode three of Into the West, then I watched Family Guy (hillarious references, not so great plot) and some of that HBO show on the whore house... Cathouse: The Sries, and now it's off to bed for me.

Hope everyone had a nice weekend.

Because today's a beautiful day, and because I didn't feel like going to the gym (Kate says it doesn't count and that I still technically didn't exercise today) I walked downtown during my ridiculously long break. I ended up buying shoes (like these, but grey and blue and orange and only $20 at TJ Maxx) and some books (Siddhartha and something else I can't remember that was $4, one of which I already may have lost) and eating lunch in Chinatown.

I accidentally went into a religious bookstore for a minute. I was like "woo, non-corporate bookstore" and went in and then realized that, oops, probably not the books for me.

So in Barnes and Nobles, I was browsing through the Science Fiction section (which was sort of disappointing) and ran across Star Trek: Voyager; String Theory Book One: Cohesion, which appears to be a 10th anniversary "adventure" for the crew. Anyway, without giving away anything that wasn't inside the front flap, Seven "assimilates" B'Elanna (to save her) and they become connected. I was intrigued enough by the idea to consider buying it before I realized that I could either read or write (should it not exist) fanfiction that ended the way I want (Seven and B'Elanna, you know... become connected winkwink) for free, or I could shell out $8 for the officially liscensed book and get annoyed at B'Elanna's inevitable return to Tom Paris. And just because Trek is a cruel mistress, Seven would probably end up making out with Chakotay or something. Though it takes place after Hope and Fear, so that crap, at least, is a few years later.

So, anyway, I didn't buy the book.

Also, no less than four people (one of whom was a young girl that couldn't have been older than twelve) attempted to hand me pamphlets telling me why I'm going to Hell. Well, maybe not. I could give them the benefit of the doubt and think that maybe they were telling me how to get to Heaven. Through Jesus. Which is fine, and all, but a terrible waste of paper and I was just going to trash it, so I decided against taking the happy, cross-covered pamphlets.

I love Downtown Crossing on a summer day.

This morning I made it all the way to the bathroom next to my classroom and promptly got quite sick. Right after I spent a few minutes expelling the stomach acid and bile from my system (all that was in it, since I generally eat breakfast during my first class), I spat a little blood up.

Then I freaked out.

Well, nothing major. I am intolerant of my initial medication, have been switched to another one, told to start taking prilosec (and the occasional swig of malox, as needed) and sent on my merry way.

I still feel like complete and utter poo, and have basically been all sorts of combinations of naseous and hungry all day. Psychologically and emotiionally it's kind of traumatic. I don't like feeling like my body is breaking down.

The rest of the day was "eh." Classes without my computer suck, but it's fun to doodle again. Worked on a group project for a couple of hours tonight, which wouldn't have been so bad if we hadn't started at 7:30.

So I just recently got home. My stomach hurts. I feel like I've had heartburn for two weeks. My knee hurts. I'm going the heck to sleep.

Here's to tomorrow.

Well, it's been an eventful day. Let's see... school, as usual. Went to the gym and sweat like a pig, because I was wearing track pants instead of shorts (it's, um, tiem for some laundry). Of course, I left my running shoes and bra at school, and am scheduled to run with Alexis in the morning.

Tried to increase my collection of video games on my computer and managed to get a virus. Joy. It took a couple of hours, but I got it off.

I got an interview with the San Francisco County Public Defender's Office, which will take place tomorrow evening over the phone. Personally, I'd rather do the Federal one (not sure why, don't ask), but I wouldn't say no if they offered me the job. Well, I might. I'll ask about the trial experience.

One firm I'd be really interested to work in got back to a bunch of people not me. It's not that I really wanted to work there this fall, as it's in Boston and I'm set to go out to San Francisco, but rejection always sucks, no matter what form it takes. Deep breath, self reflection, all is right with the world.

I'm tired and don't want to run tomorrow morning, but I'm going to anyway.

I'm tired.

In unrelated news, I've decided to start going over my days more, because I keep forgetting what I'm doing. Sully asked me what I did this weekend and I honestly had trouble remembering. I wonder what I'm forgetting from my life prior to my blogging experience and, at the same time, wonder if I become too reliant - much like I'm now reliant on calculators for higher end arithmatic, and spell checkers (when I feel like using them) to write words correctly for me.

Except most days are just class, and dinner, and TV. And that's it. Actually, I guess that's really not it. There are always moments in the day when I sit and go "hmm, I should remember this for later," which means there's something worth writing about. Usually just random thoughts or whatever. Not events.

But today there were events. Today we had a mini-surprise party for a friend. It was Deb's idea, and there wre about 7 or 8 of us waiting at a field-thing by the Pond for Connie to arrive. And then there was hanging out.

Today, also, Annie called me. I haven't talked to her in awhile, and I forgot her birthday (last May) because I'm a bad friend.

It struck me while I was in International Law today (hah! something I remember to write about!) that I really like the materials and subjects of my classes... but the lectures are practically torture. I don't know if it's some form of ADD, laziness, or what. It's just painful. Maybe I should see someone about that.

Yesterday was Pride. That's actually a misnomer, as the entire week has been Pride, and today is the last day of Pride and, heck, shouldn't us queers feel Pride all the time? Of course, then my friend who was at the Parade tells me that it was super family oriented, with about 40 religious institutions and no go-go dancers, and I wonder what the Pride is all about. Finally fitting into the mold, I guess. Except for the fact that a lot of us still don't. The Leather Alliance had a poor turnout, my friend said. There weren't that many drag queens or kings. Lots of kids, lots of families, lots of God.

I had remarked, earlier this week, while chatting with Sully, about how I don't feel any pressure to get married because I wasn't raised that way. I wasn't raised to think I could get married and now, when people our age are getting married left and right, I'm pretty much glad that it doesn't freak out that little part of me called "the biological clock." I don't feel like the old maid at weddings because - besides the fact that I haven't been invited to one yet - it's not expected of me, even in Massachussetts, bastion of gay equality and conformity.

We should also be Proud, of course, about the split parties: men on one side of town, women on the other. Or maybe there should be Pride about the way we make a huge part of our population feel. I had a great converation last night with someone who identifies as straight, has had and is willing to have relationships with the same sex, and feels like she'd be laughed out of our Queer Caucus (and other SuperGay) meetings if she showed up and identified the way she wants to.

I don't know. I just sort of don't feel Pride for that. She was so suprised by my utter lack of concern over what gender my partner has slept or will sleep with that I had to wonder what experiences she's had with gay people that make her feel like we're so anti-self identification or anti-bisexual. And the scary part is that so many of us are.

Anyway, my point is merely that I'm not that bummed out that I missed Pride, if that was Pride this year, becasue my values are shifting and I don't know that I'd have enjoyed it as much as in the past.

I missed Pride because I spent the hours of 9 to 3:30 at Harvard, working at a 25th Renunion barbeque. It was not the worst work I've ever done, probably, and it paid better than most. Oddly enough, I had a better experience with Harvard people than UMass people, and I was paid more. There was the occasional rude person - like the woman that asked Deb to pick the ham out of the pasta salad for her, before proceeding to have me order the cook to burn her a burger and get her another hot dog and burger, because she doesn't want to wait in line anymore - but most of the people were, at the least, polite. There was one woman that actually showed genuine concern for us, considering the heat and the fact that we were dishing out food to 5000 alumni and their children.

It was hot there, and I was sweaty, and some of the people I was working with weren't the coolest folk. Like the woman who stole stuff left behind. Or the one that said we ran out of veggie burgers becase, of course, all the Jews aren't eating meat on Saturday. These are people I'm going to school with. These are future lawyers.

But in the end I left with $100 more in my pocket than when I'd started, and not having done that much hard labor for it.

Afterwards I went home, in a non-air conditioned car, the back way or, rather, the most direct but slowest way. When I got home all I wanted to do was shower and go brain dead. So the plans to meet downtown for Pride were cancelled. I stayed at home, I relaxed, I played games, I ate dinner.

At 10 I went out to meet some friends on Centre St. before we went over to the Midway for Dyke Night. It was still 80 degrees and sticky. It's still June.

I drank more than I have in awhile. The count, I believe, was one beer, two and a half vodka drinks, and two shots of tequila. I danced with my friend. I ran into someone I knew from UMass who is nothing like she was three years ago. Neither am I. I went back in and danced in a packed little room that must've been 95 degrees with no air circulation. At the end of the night, I was told that I should lower my standards if I want to hook up with someone. I don't know how to, really; I only want to hook up with people I find attractive, and I only find people attractive if I get to know them. That tends not to happen at bars. Maybe that's the standard I should lower? The statement, in the end, became ironic for the same reason that those statements always do. It's usually too late for me by the time I hear them.

I could feel the hangover coming on before I went to bed last night, and it was there this morning when I woke up. I stayed in bed until Alexis called me at just before noon, and now I'm going to slog through the heat and humidity to school, to get some work done.

I liked yesterday a lot, though I couldn't tell you exactly why.

It was a good day.