Everything. Hurts.

Aching. That's the only true way to describe this pain. It is not that anyone has done anything wrong, or that I have physically hurt myself, it is that I ache. My heart, specifically, aches. See, he left yesterday. And for the first time since we've known each other (360 days, or thereabouts) I don't know when I am going to see him again. True, he is moving to my parents home town. And true, there is a good chance I might go to school there too. And truer still, I am in the process of seeing if I too can move back home this summer. But none of that cures the ache. This emptiness I feel inside. Knowing that he is not going to be there when I wake up, or to walk to school with me in the rain, or to cook dinner with me, or to sit with me while I study for chemistry for four fucking hours in the library, or grab a beer after class. He is not here anymore, and I ache. I wish he never had to go. But part of me wish he never came. I didn't feel this way until he came and left. I miss him.

1 day. 3 hours. 12 minutes.

...until he gets here. And it couldn't be going by any slower. I guess it's time to make a list of things I need to do, because it seems that whenever I make a list of things to do, I don't EVER have enough time to do them all. Perhaps it will help make time fly...

• 9:10-11:45
• Finish this blog
• Chemistry lab write-up
• Volcanology lab
• Hand in Earth History lab
• If time: chemistry practice problems/review for test
• 11:45-12:50
• Chemistry lecture
• 12:50-1:35
• Get lunch
• Eat lunch
• Work on Volcanology lab
• 1:35-7:00
• Finish/hand in Volcanology lab
• Chemistry practice problems??
• Clean house
• Laundry
• Dishes
• Bathroom
• My room
• Nap??
• Dinner
• 7:00-12:30
• WORKKKK
• 12:30-9:00
• Sleep
• 9:00-11:50
• Clean more house
• Wash couch covers
• Wash floor
• Any dishes left over?
• Pick up living room
• Wash sheets
• Pick up bed room
• 11:50
• LEAVE TO GO PICK HIM UP!

Just in time for the holiest of holiest days: St. Paddy's

This song just came up on Pandora. They're not Irish, but they sure are good!



So happy Saint Patrick's day, everyone. And once, even though I'm living in Boston, I'm missing it. Three years running. I suck at being Irish.

Rain rain...

...go away...

ps, got into grad school and they want to pay me 10 grand.

Aw, the memories

I wrote a newspaper article yesterday. Not a real one, just one for a class. And boy was it fun! No seriously, it was. I forgot how much I liked doing that! Not that I miss it, I rarely think about it because I'm so infatuated with my current area of study, but as I was writing it, the words just flowed. They literally went from vague thoughts in my mind, down through my arms out my fingers and somehow managed to make the keyboard go "click" in the right spots. And it was beautiful. I barely had to go over it again. Not even for spelling. Gosh, and could you believe it, it was on the same subject as my research paper. Writing that was about as near to pulling teeth as I've come. Ew.

And for your enjoyment, click here to access Lewis & Clark's student newspaper, to which I once belonged as a regular writer and editor (before I fled the fair city of Portland without a second glance). I was there for the school year of 2006-2007, and start writing in the October 20th issue.