you do know...

"you do know how insanely cruel it would be to send me pics like that and then 'just want to be friends,' right?"

and so another question is added to the many that i wonder if i will one day have to ask... eh. comes with the territory of internet flirting. two and a half weeks before i move to austin, i am contacted by a hot frenchman who lives in austin, and seems to have... NOTIONS, to put in a way scarlet o'hara would understand. so begins the exchange of letters, and photos (quite the exhibitionist he is...), and general STUFF. but luckily my friend bui has helped me snap out of it and listen to my paranoia engines. because who cares if everything seems in its rightful place, its much more fun to start BITING MY NAILS AND 'QUESTIONING'!

anywho, i'll deal. but its been a fun ride so far. now if i can just LET IT RIDE, maybe it can be a pleasant experience. aargh... i am working to destroy myself, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways...

why does everyone love battlestar galactica? just a question...

so i'm blogstalking e now... e, i think i must miss you. perhaps that's where this "will for communication" comes from... i'm slow... wanna do dinner sometime? i can take you out for sushi like i was going to eight years ago. we should do this, and you are invited to my official austin "moving-in slash moving-on-up party" when that goes down. which will be i don't know when, but full of people you don't know very well, including my new housemates, and at my new digs... i'm not sure how to make this work, but damn it, i'll FIGURE IT OUT!!!

you never notice how much crap you're amassing until its time to move... then you look around your room and go "Oh, SHIT!" it is time to go to goodwill, seriously... that's where i got most of the stuff, that's where it can go back to. its the catch and release program of used clothing. the circle of life... the tide comes in, the tide goes out. polyester sports jackets are bought, and then donated in time. it is the way. *strikes mean full lotus and pataka hand gestures*

so my brother has a stick up his ass. all the time. hardcore. he has such a stick up his ass, i'd be tempted to say he's gayer than me. he is constantly irritable. mostly with me. i can say the most seemingly innocent and playful thing, and then there's the yelling and the screaming... and then i make verbal note of how fun and easy he is to fuck with, which illicits MASSIVE, ANEURISM-CAUSING FURY on his part. and he yells about how he gets so angry every time i say that, why would i ever say it again, its so DISRESPECTFUL... granted, my idea of humor is to call people, including myself, on their shit. i like the "full-disclosure," "oh no you DI'INT," "i can't beLIEVE you just went there" sorta thing.

when i do it to him, he just feels attacked. so i probably SHOULD stop... but i probably WON'T so long as he's still a festering bubble of insecurity and namby-pamby "i'm so SENSITIVE!!!" bullshit. i'm sorry. its too fun, a, and b, he would be much better off if he learned to get over himself. and granted, its not MY responsibility to help him with that... but i refer you back to a... see, justification makes being an ass-hole a much less guilt-ridden activity... anywhoo, the two of us are a mess, and i'm not sure if it will ever be fully cleaned up. but if i spent my time feeling sorry about every thing i did that pissed him off, i probably would have killed myself years ago. in his eyes, i'm a fuck-up, and a terrible brother. and when you're working against that, the urge to just throw in the friggin' towel is REALLY strong.

in other news, my room is starting to get packed up. i think my next project will be breakables and little doodads and space-keepers, of which i have ENOUGH TO FILL A FRIGGIN HOUSE OF MY OWN already. i'm not a decorator; i'm a museum-keeper. and that is fine with me. except when i have to move...

and that is it for now.

i reeeally wish i could sleep...