4:40 in the A.M.?!

What is wrong with me? It's 4:40 in the morning. Micki & Ben were over here earlier tonight, then Ted & Jesse came over and stayed until 3-ish. I'm not dead. I'm not tired. I'm not drunk. I'm alone with a cat staring at me and telling me to sleep.... but I'm not sleeping.

This is my theory... when i go to sleep and wake up tomorrow, I'm going to be on the eve of the fucking Contracts final. I can't stomach this right now. Not that I'm completely unprepared (because that doesn't bother me), but I'm going to sit in a giant room for four hours reading Royce's brain jibberish and trying to use my fucking casebook and UCC for reference with NO TABS and NO OUTLINES ALLOWED!!! I can't do it, so I procrastinate tonight becoming tomorrow by not sleeping.

Also Ryan is gone. He went "home" so that he can sling toys to poor kids tomorrow morning. They call it "charity" work, but I think it's a court-ordered thing he has to complete before his ankle moniter is finally taken off.

Also this house is creepy without Ryan in it. It's like "Hell" with no "Satan." [ps- that was a horrible analogy, but my brain is over overdrive/shutdown mode at the moment]

What comes tomorrow? ARTISAN!! I'm going to go sit in a coffeehouse/smelly-clothes-making-building for hours upon hours while I stare at my Kontrax bullshit and try to pretend like I'm re-learning it all. I only wish that someone would come rescue me out of that basement coffee bar pseudo-restaurant and take me to someplace fun... like Disneyworld or the Holocaust Museum.

Listen to me whine. Is this what blogs were intended for?... because this is a tragically boring waste of time and effort.

Okay.

enough bitching.

Sleep entices me.

Blog blog bores me.

-Confessions of a Dangerous Julia-

ps- Will the kittens be establishing a Friendster profile over winter break? If only they can complete their typing courses in time...

It's Official...

I'm hot. Today is declared "Julia: Legend of Total Hotness Day." Don't you forget that. Put it in your re-written public school textbooks.. right next to the abstinence-only sex education and your "Creationism" "Equal Time" bullshit "jesus science."

I lifted lots of weights.
I drank lots of wine.
I sobered up and here I sit.
All hotty hot and fine.

I think that Joe the Personal Trainer is proud of Ryan and I. We're awesome. We look good. i can run up a flight of stairs without passing out. Ryan, however, is passed out right now. He seems to be "asleep." No sex for me when me needs the sex.

A Civ Pro final awaits me in a number of hours. Damn this life. The hotty hot needs her sleep.

-Slagatha Christie-


like, solvin' mysteries and shit

"Snuck up on a guy..."

"Snuck up on a guy; shot him in the head with a shotgun." Ryan just turned to me from his game of Half-Life 2 and proudly announced his accomplishment. It feels like a fish-smelling cat just brought me the dead body of a baby bird.. covered in maggots of love.

I should be studying. I should be flash-carding. I should be reading over this outline I just co-opted from some guy named "Mudd," but I'm doing nothing. I have my CrunchTime, my Nutshell, my case book, my FRCP, my laptop.. all laid out around me. I'm paralyzed. All I want is to make a vodka/fruity lady drink and go to sleep. I want to read another Lorrie Moore short story and dream of having the balls and gusto to be a fiction writer. I want it to be December 15th, so I don't have to worry about this bullshit for another month.

Ryan's parents came in to town tonight and took us out for dinner at Addison's. I had a slice of Milky Way Pie for dessert. It was like heaven. It made me cream a little bit (in my jeans). Get this... the mousse actually tasted like NOUGAT!!! IT REALLY DID!! Also, the best TV shows were on tonight and I was magically able to watch them all (Mostly because there was very little studying going on). Simpsons was brilliant. Arrested Development made me laugh so hard that I stopped breathing. Tom Goes to the Mayor impressed me. Sealab was good as well.. but Sharko makes me uneasy. Why is there a Sharko without Marco? How can Erik Estrada turn his back on Sealab, only to leave the show with a half-shark/half-man offspring to take his place? Why does God spite me like this?

If I was a VJ on Total Request Live, my VJ name would be "Slagatha Cincinnati Hotplate."

Holla Slagatha!! Much love to my boys in B2K. Y'all inspire me to reach for the stars. Okay, time for the newest bomb dropped by the cast of Laguna Beach... Steven gave my girl LC a case of the CLIZ-AP!! Holla Gonorrhea!

Friendster is hopping with Law School people leaving obscene phone messages on everyone's answering machine. The delicate structure of our 1L class has finally collapsed in a orgy of awesome testimonials and body shots.

Holla Battlecat,
Holla Dr. Baby,
Holla Slagatha Cincinnati Hotplate,
Holla Mother Mink.