Nathan’s friend Clint. Is. Snoring. It. Is. So. Loud. I. Cannot. Get. To. Sleep.

I wish I didn’t have to sleep in a living room. I would really benefit from having a bedroom. With a bed. And a door. Oh, privacy. How I miss you.

How about if you have a room and you have space in said room for your guests to sleep in there, you don’t leave them out in the living room with me so they can snore and remind me of how piss poor my situation is? Fuck this shit. He sounds like a fucking grizzly bear.

instead i will simply say FUCK BIRTHDAYS IN THE ASS.

zzzzz.

She apologized pretty abruptly and we went out to do some shoppin’. I got a box of old photographs for 10 dollars. This is not something that I think I have dilvulged to anyone, but I have a great love for old photographs. They make me happier than most things on this planet, so this find made my day.

I took some fantastic photos during my trip. I plan on posting a good bit of them. I am really proud of a few of them.

I fly back tomorrow (technically today, I s’pose) at 6:20pm and arrive at 11:45 pm. I am so ready to be home. I have never missed the southeast as much as I do right now.

The only thing I’ve left to accomplish now is going to the Liberace Museum, which I am super excited about!

Time to watch some Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job before bed!

Heather, my sister’s house is insane. 30 foot ceilings. She has always had a knack for decorating, so it looks amazing. Like something out of a magazine.

Tomorrow (or today if you want to get technical) we are planning to go to the Liberace Museum, to the Neon Graveyard (where they store all the old neon signs from the Vegas of long ago) and to look at some actual ghost towns (which are apparently abundant around here). I am excited to take pictures of things. I never get to take pictures of weird shit! Oh, and also slot machines. I am convinced that I will win 1,000 dollars tomorrow night on the Cherries Jubilee Machine!

Wednesday, my parents are heading back home to Tampa, so it will be just me and my sister. Her husband, Wade, will be working. I think we are going to head to Los Angeles on Wednesday afternoon and stay overnight. Very excited about that. More pictures to be taken!

So far, so good with this trip. Everyone has been very well-behaved.

It’s very cold here right now. In the 40s, which I was not expecting. I’m glad I brought my coat with me.

Okee dokee, that’s it for now. I’ll try to post regularly while I’m out here, but I probably will either forget or just be lazy and not do it.

1. dirty feet
2. dirty ass
3. beer

and later in the day when he finally GOT THE HELL OUT OF THE APARTMENT, this smell was added:

4. Axe Body Spray (not sure of the exact kind, sorry to let you down.)

This nasty, gag-inducing individual slept DIRECTLY in front of our space heater. The heat amplified his smell 1,000 times.

To make things even better, i had to clean what I believe to be salsa off this keyboard before I could type this post. There is also salsa on the floor. And a mostly full giant can of beer was balanced precariously on the edge of the coffee table. I’m going to end up physically hurting someone. I’m going to be past the point of being able to talk about this rationally with Nathan. He’s become absurdly inconsiderate, MORE messy than he was before (which I never would have believed to be possible), and the people he keeps bringing home are just flat out annoying. I carefully choose the people that I spend my time with. Nathan will be friends with someone because they chugged a pitcher of beer and burped the alphabet (sadly, that is an actual example. I didn’t make that up).

I am now having to sit with the door open to try to get some of the stench out of here. It’s 45 degrees and I am freezing my ass off, but I have no choice.

I’m so angry. So, so angry. And I would bet money that Nathan will not come home tonight, so I won’t be able to confront him about any of this mess while I’m still riled up about it.

Anyone know how to get salsa stains out of carpet?

Last night, Nathan had some of his lovely, well-mannered alcoholic buddies over to watch a movie. I had left a bag sitting by the couch that contained a few items that I had earlier retrieved from a friend’s house. What better use for said bag than a trash can for mostly-empty Natty Light cans? Better yet, why not just throw the cans into the general area of the bag and get beer all over the carpet and the couch? Who needs to be careful not to spill beer on the floor? Not Nathan! Not his friends! Beer everywhere, that’s my motto!

Here is an explanation of my current living situation. It’s weird. My roommates are Nathan (friend) and Ryan (ex boyfriend, now friend). They split the rent between them. I pay 1/3 of the electric bill and the entire water bill. I sleep on the couch in the living room. It is kind of expected that I do the bulk of the cleaning around here since I don’t pay rent. I am NORMALLY fine with this. What I am not fine with is having to clean up after a bunch of drunk idiots that don’t give a shit about anyone or anything unless it is directly related to beer. Nathan, when he is with his drunkies, does not care about anything. He is a good guy, but he’s getting a foot up his ass when he comes home from work tonight, that is a certainty.

Ryan is the picture of the perfect roommate. Cleans up after himself, spends most of his time in his room, listens if you voice a complaint. He is a non-issue in my living situation. Nathan, time and time again, has proven to be a problem. He uses more dishes than you would believe to be possible. He never washes them. If, by some miracle, he DOES wash dishes, most of them have to be rewashed because he is not thorough when he does them. He refuses to throw things away…. he will hold onto food for WEEKS before allowing it to be thrown away, so most of the refrigerator is filled with old Nathan food. If you throw something away and don’t put it OUTSIDE in the DUMPSTER, it will end up back in the refrigerator again. Sick, right? It keeps getting more and more difficult to keep it clean around here. I think I could handle Nathan’s messes if they weren’t coupled with the messes his friends make as well. They break glasses and don’t clean them up. They spill everything everywhere, beer, water, Coke, food items. At any given time, there is buffalo wing sauce on at least five surfaces in this apartment. I’m worn out.

Calgon, take me away!

One of the memories, the one I will mention here, is of losing a baby tooth. There was one that I lost, probably one of the last ones to hold on, that was such a triumph for me. I sat, all day, watching Nickelodeon, wiggling the stubborn tooth around lazily with my tongue. My mom was in the room with me and knew that I was messing with my tooth. “Leave it alone, it will fall out on its own,” she kept telling me. Her words were meaningless to me. I was on a mission. I was going to get that damned tooth out of my head and it was going to happen that day.

I was filled with glee as I tasted the metallic flavor of my own blood. I knew this meant I was making progress. I pushed against the tooth with my tongue’s might. I felt a slight POP as the pink strands of the flesh of my gums started to give. I could feel the tooth tearing away and I knew that money and ice cream were on my horizon. Pop, pop, pop. Rrrrrrrip. And, with a final, delicate plucking, the tooth was released from its fleshy pink prison, held triumphantly between my index finger and thumb.

I remember the taste of my blood. I remember the feeling of pressing my tongue into the spot where the tooth used to be. It’s so weird to think about. That memory is more than 20 years old, but it seems to have not aged a day. I hope my brain is airtight enough to keep that and all the rest of my childhood memories safely contained.

1. I can’t be around someone every second of every day. If I don’t have time to myself, it makes me feel like my soul is collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

2. If someone isn’t supportive of my art, they need to get the fuck right on out of my face. I am well aware of the fact that I cannot, at this point in my life, only rely on my art as my main source of income. But I still have goals and dreams and I can’t even think about being around someone if they’re not going to support them.

3. Good taste in music is crucial. If someone likes bad music, I can’t keep from questioning his sanity.

The list is not huge, but I only recently realized that I have never had a relationship with anyone who met ANY of these requirements.

On another note, I need to learn to play the guitar. I have one. It just sits there and and looks at me all day, mocking me. I know how much patience it’s going to require, this learning business, so the task is somewhat daunting right now. I would just really love to be able to write and record some damn songs… instead of relying on someone else to play for me. It sucks to have ideas for songs and not have any way to flesh them out. Once I cash my paycheck, I will probably go and buy some new strings for the guitar and give it a go.

I just had some chocolate milk and it made me feel sloshy and gross.

Here, look. And then tell me what the fuck.