You’re low down and dirty, and I love the way you do…If I stay i’ll never find my way back home…

In response to the strong urgings of a few people, I picked up the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris.  The books are as good as any novice writer’s series… they’re full of fresh wit and continuity errors.  But… for someone who is looking for a mindless fun read–they’re perfect.

As for the HBO series “True Blood,” its almost like you’re watching someone pervert your favorite Sesame Street characters.  They sound a lot like what you expect them to and they do the same things… but its all wrong.  I finished season one this week and honestly have no intention of watching season 2.

They introduced a “child” of Bill that doesn’t exist in the series.  If she was to be a plot vehicle to something that happens later, I can understand.  She has no point.  Unless you completely change the basis of the “great betrayal,” she has no point!  Comic relief?  She’s not funny!  Add in that she is the most annoying individual to grace the TV screen in several years… She came into Bill’s house on the last episode and I almost threw things at my beloved TV.  I don’t know how the writer did it, but he ruined the whole season with one red-headed annoying chick.

The preparations for the fall semester are underway at the (former) Tarleton Central Texas campus.  Our first SGA meeting was last week, which I missed because I was talking to someone about my Graduate Assistantship.  The G.A. qualifies me for in-state tuition, which is a blessing all by itself.

I’m learning lessons as things come along.  As I was removing the tags on pictures of me from people that I don’t care to acknowledge anymore, I realized I had the hardest time in two very important aspects of life.  (1) I don’t let things go and (2) I push too hard.

They’re both wrapped up in the one thing I need to try more and more to do (excuse the horrible phrasing):  Chill out.  I love to force things to work.  Then, when its not what I want or expected, I get pissed off.  I don’t forget anything when I’m mad.  I’ll remember what you did to make me mad for years.  It doesn’t mean that I will STILL be mad years down the road… it just means that I’ll remember I got pissed off at you for [breaking the bowl I ate out of as a child, telling me I look funny, calling me names, tripping my grandmother, shitting in my shower, throwing books at me, selling me a house that was basically falling apart] and either think its funny or well-founded.

Life seems like it would be so much simpler if I could just… let things happen as they may.  Maybe I get the G.A., maybe I don’t.  Either way, I know I’m going to school.  Maybe I’ll find a job actually DOING something, maybe I won’t.  The paychecks are still coming from the desk I’m sitting in.  Maybe there will be an amazing amount of chemistry when we meet, maybe there won’t be.  Maybe I’ll find a way to take all the trips I want to, maybe I won’t.  Either way, it has been absolutely amazing so far.

And some lady just walked by my window wearing a bright orange shirt with a black jack o’lantern face on it.  Is it October?  Did I just fall asleep at my desk for a few months?

I’m off to buy a bottle of wine and a pizza so I can spend my Friday night the way it should be spent:  staring at a cute boy and eating food that will make me fat.


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