Spoonful of Sugar

Sometimes I'm feeling bad
and then again I'm sad
but she makes me happy
Sometimes I'm feeling wrong
and that I can't go on
but she makes me understand and see

She's a spoonful of sugar to me
So sweet so sweet so sweet to me
She makes me feel so right
makes everything so bright
That's why I love her you see
Best girl I ever had
she never made me mad
She's the right girl wouldn't you agree?
She's a spoonful of sugar to me
So sweet so sweet so sweet to me
One thing I understand
I'll soon to be a man
and I'll want her for the rest of my life
One thing we'll have to plan
I'll soon want to have her hand
and I'll want her to be my wife

-of montreal


I just finished almost all my work for the semester/college. I just have one more huge paper to finish and turn in and then I'm done. I have until the 11th, but the sooner I can get it done the better, though I really want an A. The paper I'm writing is on Suicide and Murder for my Mythology and Women class. Specifically the paper is on why women are punished for killing their children and not men. But suicide works into that somehow too.. so i'll have to look it over.

Christina has already started moving out, though she stopped halfway. She isn't living here anymore, but I am grateful to her for leaving some of her stuff, because I don't want to feel so alone. At least with the pink sheets on her bed, I don't have to think about that just yet.

As much as I may think that I've changed, I don't really think I have. Maybe I've opened my eyes to the possibilities and other ideas that I was too set against before, not that those ideas are the ones for me, just that now I'm more open to them. I'm living differently, I'm trying to get my work done, and trying to find a job. I put in my 2 weeks notice at the pharmacy. That felt really good. I celebrated by watching zoolander with maggie. Friday night christina wants us all to go to a club, I'm going to invite maggie and aaron already said he'd go. I'm glad he likes to dance.

Saturday is my grandparents birthday celebration. My grandma is turning 75 and my grandad is turning 80. So i'll be up in rutherford saturday, and then I have work sunday. I don't know what I'm wearing to graduation.. nor have I bought my cap n gown... which should also probably happen tomorrow.

Sheesh. It's almost time for work, only 2 more hours. And yes, I still need to pack up my room, buy a mother's day gift, a birthday present for josh, something for my grandma/grandad, and there is probably something else that I'm forgetting as well.

oh and in my crazyness I accidently took off work on thursday may 10th because of mothers day. the kid i was working with wanted to know what was wrong with me, and i pointed to the calendar where it said MOTHER'S DAY on may 10th, he then moved my finger over to the little (M) next to it. Yes, I took off for mother's day in mexico. SO yeah, burritos for dinner i guess.


where is my mind?

leave me alone.

"It's so odd not to be in love.
I can kiss him and wake up to his face but when I feel the desire well up inside me to turn to him, nestle into his arms and tell him how I love him so, there are no words, there is no love, only the desire to love, and the echo of my disappointment."

"I looked at pictures we had taken years back when he was the only man I thought I'd ever love and I was jealous of everyone who had ever held his hand. There was a quiet peace in my eyes in those photos, and while looking at them I could still picture the children we might have had if everything had turned out differently. But everything turned out just the way it did, and instead of children there is silence."

"My body has rebelled against me. Everything I eat sickens me, too greasy or too processed and as a result causes my insides to churn and bubble and bloat with disgust. I want to throw this world up, to heave it as far away from me as possible until I am finally empty and myself again."

=0(

"Baldini stood at the window, an old man, and gazed malevolently at the sun angled above the river. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west, toward the Pont-Neuf and the quay below the galleries of the Louvre. No one poled barges against the current here, for that they used the channel on the other side of the island. Here everything flowed away from you - the empty and they heavily laden ships, the rowboats, the flat-bottomed punts of the fishermen, the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything, flowed away, slowly, broadly, and inevitably. And if Baldini looked directly below him, straight down the wall, it seemed to him as if the flowing water were sucking the foundations of the bridge with it, and he grew dizzy. He had made a mistake buying a house on the bridge, and a second when he selected one on the western side. Because constantly before his eyes now was a river flowing from him; and it was as if he himself and his house and the wealth he had accumulated over many decades were flowing away like the river, while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank, in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice, he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel, but would take the longer way across the Pont-Neuf, for it was a bridge without buildings. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river, just for once to see everything flowing toward him; and for a few moments he basked in the notion that his life had been thriving, that women threw themselves at him, that his own life, instead of dwindling away, was growing and growing. But then, if he lifted his gaze the least bit, he could see his own house, tall and spindly and fragile, several hundred yards away on the Pont-au-Change, and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window, saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away, just as now. And then the beautiful dream would vanish, and Baldini would turn away from where he stood on the Pont-Neuf, more despondent than before- as despondent as he was now, turning away from the window and taking his seat at his desk."--

(from) Perfume, by patrick suskind



slip sliding away....