Sans subject
Late nights at Qdoba are making me more exhausted than ever. They're not that bad, but it's like my tolerance for them just dissapeared one night. I think I lost it on the night of Holloween. It being my tolerance. Not my virginity. Last night mid-rush I had this huge wave of nausea that was really unpleasant. So unpleasant, that I vomited--twice. I'm chalking it up to eating too much, I think. After I ate it felt like I had a pile of food in the boneless area between my ribs. So, maybe it just didn't digest? Also, I noted a lot of the lemonade that I drank didn't seem to agree with me. (Sorry if this was too explicit for the elderly, young, or those with weak-stomachs and vivid imaginations.) It might have just been the lemonade. Who knows. Thankfully, I'm feeling fine today.
I slept forever last night which allowed me to a.) Get up early today and b.) Lose any chance to hang out with my friends who were in town. Oh well. Christmas break is around the corner. I really needed the sleep though--I watched Ryan (my little brother) during the days and assisted where I could in my mother's moving process. Yes, the blue house on Erin Lane isn't really my house any longer. I haven't had the opportunity to say my goodbyes, but hopefully I'll be able to soon. I don't feel too sad about it--my Mom needed to move for many reasons, and I know it's important for her checkbook and sanity to not be in that house anymore. But it is weird for me--it kind of feels like leaving the memory of your childhood more permanently in the past, I guess. That sounds really dramatic and I don't mean for it to. But you know. There are things that make you distance yourself from your childhood like moving out, all-in-all just losing whatever it is that keeps you naive, and not having your childhood home to return to anymore is one of them, I think. Even when someone else lives there I'll come sit in the backyard every so often. (Brittany and Therese--that reminds me of the Holloween after you guys moved out of Mabel Ct. and we were peeking in the windows and agreeing that the new people who lived there were no good.)
Another thing: I recently had a dream about one of my parents' old friends from high school, Pat Hilton. (I identify him as the first male I was ever attracted to.) Anyway, in my dream I see him, he's happy to see me, runs over. We hug, we kiss, but it's an intimate kiss. His girlfriend (he's dated her for eons) and her kids (from someone else, not him) are pissed. Anyway, later that night, I find out that he just got the boot from this girlfriend for reasons I won't detail here (it didn't involve another woman, me or otherwise. Ha.). So, it was bizarre because I don't dream about him often or anything. I really want to see him again to put an end to this girlhood infatuation. Because I know he'll treat me like a kid, Linda and Chris' Emily. And all will be well.
Well, that's everything that's new. Oh--I feel that when I listen to old jazz (early-60's), it puts me in the mood for Christmas.
It also makes me want to be in New York--in the 20's. But I'll settle for the present.