i have allergies, and it's hard to concentrate and/or keep my balance, so here are just a couple things

this whole anna nicole smith thing is just a cover for the fact that the government has been DOCTORING INTELLIGENCE. yes, that was announced two days ago. terrifying. that said, i am also terrified by the fact that a.n.s. left her baby in the bahamas when she left for hollywood. less terrified, much less, but still terrified.

having a fever is not sexy. even if you have a fever because you are near someone you have a crush on and you are just an awkward person, it is pretty much the farthest thing from sexy. it's sweaty, and kind of headachy, and even if a shower provides temporary relief, you still have a fever when you get out and then you have a fever and are squeaky clean with your pores sealed shut and you feel like the finger of a really big latex glove.

i have a strange relationship with valentine's day. ever since i stopped going to an all-girls' school, i wanted a valentine, but the timing was always off, so valentine's day has always been a pretty big disappointment romantically. one year, a couple weeks before valentine's day, i was hanging out with a friend in his dorm room. i went to the bathroom on his hall and found his hallmate and a girl he was dating shaving each other. they said it was a date they had thought of. this led to a nightmare where i got an envelope in the mail and it was full of their greasy hair. then, on valentine's day, i opened my mailbox and saw a big envelope. i was so excited! my first real valentine, not from my mom or grandparents, ever! i opened it and it was full of max's hair. i cried. the first year jake and i were together, we got together right after valentine's day. the next year, it happened during the week or so we were broken up (jake sent me a card anyway. it was big and heavy, with a dark red heart with lace around it. i have no idea where he got it - i can't for the world imagine him actually buying it - but i do still have it). then, last year, i was home and jake was here in portland (although he sent my flowers and candy anyway - a dozen roses, and a big box of chocolates. i ate all the chocolates immediately). this will be the first year i will have a real valentine's day. i guess i'm excited. that said, my mom has always done a little something for valentine's day. sometimes i would wake up and there would be a new mug and some ghiradelli's hot chocolate on the kitchen table, sometimes special valentine's day socks. that always meant a lot to me, and it might sound retarded but my mom is the best valentine i could ever have. i think my mom is totally rad.

confessions II

i forgot, this is lizzy's blog, in case you want to be as obsessed with her as i am. one other thing i forgot, i also started watching deadwood because she likes it so much. lizzy, this is a confession for you: i like it, but i like carnivale way more. i see how you could be crazy for calamity jane and all the swearing, although my personal favorite is the widow garrett (the more conniving she is, the better i like her), but i am just hooked on that crazy supernatural shit and i love clea duvalle (leftover from how every time i see "but i'm a cheerleader" i think maybe i could be a lesbian [i can't, i've never even really tried and i still know that]).

anyway, admitting that i am really into pretending to be lizzy when she's not around felt pretty good. admitting things to the internet is not that hard, and even though i'm pretty sure there's not a whole lot of things that are secretly true about me that aren't secretly true about millions of other people, i've decided to get a few more off my chest.

sometimes i have fantastical, mildly violent fantasies about people i severely dislike. my roommate for junior and senior years sort of decided that she'd outgrown me, and started knowing absolutely everything and getting whiplash from how hard she looked down at me. of course, i reacted defensively, which made the situation much fiercer than it would have been had i sat her down and talked about how ANGRY she made me. i think i sort of understood this, because my recurring fantasy in this situation was shooting her through the neck with a crossbow - not to puncture an artery or anything, just to nail her to the wall through her vocal cords so i could give her a serious talking-to without any crappy backtalk. when jake and i broke up for about a week and i suspected one of his fellow philosophy majors of trying to get with him, i imagined pushing her down, putting on some enormous boots, and stepping on her womb, which would crack just like an eggshell. when jake made out with another girl while i was away, i imagined scalping her - not in a bloody way, but in a way where her hair would peel off like the back of a sticker and i would have a trophy and she would have humiliation. wow, maybe i am crazy! i think a lot of other crazy things too, but maybe that should be all for today.

i have this friend

her name is lizzy acker. here is a picture of her i found on the internet:

i wish i was just like her. she is crazy in a hilarious way that charms people and makes them laugh and leaves them with the impression that she is intelligent (true), while i am crazy in an awkward, sweaty hiding-in-my-sweatshirt way that leaves people with the impression that i am just weird (true). she goes to graduate school. now i want to go. she got a tattoo of oregon. now i want one. she got a blog, so i did. i want to be just like her, and i know she reads this blog, so really this is a confession.

my mom has this special way of making me feel really, really guilty when she needs technical support and i am 300 miles away.

law and order is doing hillary clinton being politically faulted for bill's indiscretions tonight. they could be doing a better job.

jake and i are going to go to the zoo for valentine's day

i can't wait. i wish this was us, except i do not wish that jake had a ponytail.

keeping mum

jake is very superstitious and never tells anyone about job interviews or articles he's reasearching, and if he does tell them, he doesn't tell them what they're for or about. i am just very afraid of failure and judgement, so if i don't tell someone about something i'm trying to do, it's because i'm afraid it won't happen and then they'll keep asking about it and then i'll have to admit my failure, ashamed. what makes it worse is, i talk a lot, and sometimes it's hard to keep things inside, and they just fall out of my mouth and before you know it family members with a possibly inflated sense of my potential are calling to ask if i've been accepted to berkeley yet (never. going. to. happen.). so lately i've been trying to keep more things on the d.l., like where exactly i am applying, what my aspirations are, and what i did while jake was at work this morning (a lot of places, i'm not really sure and that in itself is embarassing, read comic books and ate toast in bed which is not allowed). it's kind of fun to try and keep bizarre stuff secret by being vague. "hey, i like your pants. where did you get them?" "oh, thanks. just somewhere," (old navy). "hey, are you going out? where are you going?' "oh, nowhere," (the gym). see, the answers are boring, but when you don't admit them, they don't sound boring at all.