I have gone friends only. Let me know if you want to be mine :)

 My friends and I laying in a circle staring at the sky. While we were talking two planes collided and debris started to scatter in the sky. A large piece of it started plummeting exactly where we were gathered. In the dream, I knew that if we just got up and moved we would be safe. I looked over at Dan and he was staring at me and I knew he was thinking the same thing: stay put. So rather than get up and run for our lives, we simply held hands and allowed the plane to keep falling towards us.

 ShorStuf285:  I want to go to the art museum and the air and space museum
ScullyBully:  they have a museum for air?
ShorStuf285:  hahahaha
ScullyBully:  what do they do point next to them?
ShorStuf285:  more on the history of airplanes
ScullyBully:  ohhhhhh

"Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we'll still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella
You can stand under my umbrella "

The last thing you expect blaring in an art gallery is the sound of Rihanna throbbing from the speakers. And yet, it was the first thing we were confronted with when we ducked in to escape the heat of the day.

(Ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella
(Ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)

"Hello" I yell at the older woman typing away on her top of the line Apple. She peers at me over her thick black glasses with mussed up platinum hair. "I like your computer!" I try again as Dan walks off, already unimpressed. She stares at me as though I am interrupting a private meeting between her and the pop princess herself before uttering a "yeah" back at me. I repress the urge to roll my eyes and begin to saunter around the gallery trying to find something that catches my eye.
Doll heads stare back at me with no bodies and disjointed furniture is scattered around. It looks as though the ugliest possible remains from the 1800's were dropped into this room. There are transparent throw pillows with shredded papers wadded up on the inside laying on top of a smelly green chair. The price tag says 400.00, and I do not know if it is for the chair or the pillows.
A new Rihanna song starts up. Its aptly called SOS.
"S-O-S please someone help me.
It's not healthy for me to feel this
Y-O-U-R making this hard
I can't take it see it don't feel right."

I wander in to meet Sarah who has a permanent smirk on her face. We stare at the paintings on the wall for a bit before the owner walks in. "Aren't these fabulous?" She asks me with earnest while gesturing in a hundred directions at once. Her arm falls on an empty bed frame with a door glued to it that seems to be teetering on for life. I do not want to comment on that particular "piece" so I try to deflect her to a piece called "storm". It is the only thing in the whole gallery my eyes can focus on without burning (aside form the banners of naked men hanging in the window, but that is another story).
"Yes" she smiles "EVERYONE likes that one"
I nod, unsure what to say. She stares at me expecting something so I ask her a question to break the silence, "If I had a friend that wanted to be featured, what would he have to do"
Pause, "Well what does he do?" she finally asks.
"Photography" I spit out.
"And what kind of photography" she asks me as slow as possible.
I repress the urge to say "The kind where you take pictures" and just shrug. I did not know there was different kinds of photography. Luckily she sneers, "I do not take EMERGING artists for one" she shakes her head in disgust "they have to have been shown somewhere else".
I nod, wanting to escape the hell of conversation with this person. Instead, she continues in a deeper, more pretentious voice. "Secondly, I HAVE to fall IN LOVE with it"
"Really?" I think I actually say out loud as I ponder the jello boxes stacked in the corner.
"Have him call me" we walk out towards her desk and she hands me a postcard with the featured artist. "We will see if he meets the criteria"
I once again, stifle the urge to speak. I do not want to speak for my friend Seth, but I am pretty sure SHE would not meet HIS criteria as the type of person he would want to work with. The fact that I could be wrong is the only thin that saves me from dripping sarcasm onto every word.
Dan gives me a look that plainly says, "Are you about done?" so I give one last glance at the gallery and we walk back out into the heat with the sounds of Rihanna fading behind us.

"Shake it til the moon
becomes the sun (Sun)
Everybody in the club give me a run (Run)
If you ready to move say it (Yeah Yeah)
One time for your mind say it (Yeah Yeah)" 

It’s an unassuming day in July, and yet I can mark it as the official day that I lost my mind. I am not even sure how it happened. One minute I was staring into space trying to come up with an appropriate answer for one of my psychology classes, the next I forgot who I was. Just like that, I did not exist in my own mind. I could not remember my name, what I was doing, or even where I was. The odd part is that I was actually thankful to be relieved to be stripped of the burden of being me.
It is 80 degrees out, and I still have chills from the experience. Granted, I do not like the heat so I should be happy something finally cooled me off. Still, the universe could have picked a better time to start messing with my mind (if there is a good moment for that). The only way I can think of to describe this emptiness that I felt is to relive another moment in my life when my brain was void of thought: when I had my wisdom teeth out.
I was not devoid of any thoughts due to medication or even pain, it was television cleared my head. I was too lazy to do anything but flop on the couch and watch what we had for basic cable. On the style network they were playing marathon episodes of WHAT NOT TO WEAR so I watched it…for 7 hours. If that is not clearing the mind of pure thought form, I don’t know what is. Not only did I not know who I was, I was prepared to burn every outfit in my carefully selected wardrobe in some sort of manic panic attack concerning fashion.
As of right now, I am recovering from my odd experience. I thought I would share it with the rest of you because heaven forbid I keep something this odd to myself. And that is how I know I am back to being me again.

In having a discussion about my pet peeves with a few people, I realized I have some rather obscure peeves. Case in point, I got so angry at carrot cake at the grocery store a few months ago that I blogged about it. That, my dear friend is nothing compared to the ongoing list in my head. Therefore, I decided to share another gem with you: I hate mail.
Now I can hear people now, “But Scully! I love getting mail! You never know what you are going to get!”
I understand your point, I do. It is just that I know exactly what I am going to get: Will’s junk mail. You see, I do not get mail. On the rare day that I do get a piece of mail, it is usually from my college writing me a letter to inform me of something stupid. The other institution I hear from frequently is my bank who likes to write me a letter and inform me of what I am doing. They make points such as, “Did you know you changed your address recently?”
Yes, I know. I am the one up to my ears in moving supplies and packing peanuts and oh by the way, I am the one WHO TOLD YOU THAT. Or they write, “You have viewed your account 6 times this week and we thought you would like to be informed of this unusual activity.” I am sorry; I did not know that it was unusual to view my account.
This alone could warrant being on its own pet peeve list, but let’s just say that I like to log onto my account at least 20 times a day now. I want them to mail me about the “unusual” activity of over a hundred views to my account. They should also know what I find “unusual” is a company that complains about keeping costs down, yet sends out mailings every 15 seconds to their customers. In fact, they are probably preparing to send me a letter to tell me I am writing about them.
That aside, I do not get mail. However, William gets enough for both of us. In fact, he gets enough to keep a post office in business. For example, in one day I was able to dump his mail in a shoebox and fill half of it. When he gets back from diving, there are two shoeboxes full of his mail and that is with me filtering out some. I think he was put on a mass mailing list of every corporation in this country. If you do the math at two boxes of mail a week with William not being due back until November, it means I will have to buy shoes just so I can store his excess of mail!
Another reason I hate getting mail is that now I live in a building where I have to walk all the way to the lobby to get it. The hallways are hot, and I tend to fall down the stairs a lot. When I have a lot of mail, my ability to perform the task of walking is marred by the fact that I have to carry an armload of mail. Despite being able to perform awe inspiring tricks in gymnastics, I seem to have lost the ability to walk like a normal human which means mail is dangerous for my equilibrium.
It is a happy day when I walk down and turn the key and there is nothing in the box. My personal theory is that when the mailbox is cluttered, my mind will be cluttered as well. But if the mailbox is empty, that means my mind will follow suit. And no, I do not mean “empty” in the “oh my god, I totally like, flaked out!” empty. I mean it in the “I am so Zen, Buddha himself would bow to me” kind of empty.
Speaking of mail, and all its rage inducing existence, it is time to check it. And unless Antonio Banderas has managed to fold himself into an envelope and mail himself to me, I am not expecting any surprises.
Then again, you never know what you are going to get.

Insomnia is a strange disease in that it can stumble upon you when you least expect it and vanish just as fast, or it can haunt you for months. In my case, I have lost count of my sleepless nights a long time ago. In fact, they occur so frequently that it becomes pointless to even comment on them. Yet here I sit in the middle of the night, typing into a world that almost feels vacant. Is there anyone out there? I am not so sure anymore.

It is easy to feel alone at 2:30 in the morning but it is not the worst part of the night. The worst time to be awake is 4AM because the night never seems to end and dawn never appears. The past few months have been especially hard at 4 in the morning as the weeks of insomnia finally started to take a toll. I wander incessantly through the house, as I try to think of ways to ease my mind.

Mornings are even more difficult because if I do manage to catch a few hours of sleep I am a wreck. Anyone who has ever experienced a sleepless night knows that at some point, sleep itself becomes the enemy. Once you fall asleep, your body stubbornly clings to the idea, even as you try to reason with it. You can try to tell your body that it was only a brief respite before needing to get back up, but the body will keep you chained to that state throughout the day, refusing to let you go. It is a state that no amount of caffeine can combat, no matter how much is consumed.

It is often in this state that I run into friends and try to muster up the energy to seem like I am fine. If you have ever seen me blather on and on, seemingly intoxicated, then you have met my dear friend Insomnia. It is even possible that you are better friends with Insomnia than with me because Insomnia is probably more amusing. Insomnia is also easier to get to know, since she comes out more often than I do, and says (oddly) wittier things.

As it approaches 3AM I find myself bleary and unable to continue to write this. Sadly, I am also too weary to try and do anything else aside from stare at the wall. Have you ever stared at the wall so long it looks back? I will take this moment now to apologize for that last sentence, as I have no idea where it came from and in the morning I know I will laugh at it. I even already know what voice I will use while mocking my own journal entry. You will laugh with me because you will be laughing with your old friend Insomnia.

Someday, I hope to get to know you myself.

I have to get this off my chest as it has been brewing there for some time. Here is my personal take on the campaign and some myths that the media is perpetuating. You can agree, you can disagree, but I think it needs to be said:
Myth: The Clinton V. Obama campaign is “tearing democrats apart”
It has been implied in the media that democrats who vote for either Clinton or Obama in the primary are not going to support the democrat that has been nominated because of “in fighting”.
I think Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-Vt) said it best when he reinforced the prevailing attitude among his fellow Democrats. "Everybody I've talked with knows that they're going to have to come together after the nomination," he said. "And I think it's good. I've told both Senator Obama and Senator Clinton that Vermont's different that way. We really care who these people are and we're not impressed by negative campaigns, we're not impressed by negative ads or stories. We look at the real person." (www.wcax.com)
I know democrats who support Obama and I know democrats who support Clinton. Both sides say that they will stand for either one when it comes down to it. The media just wants people to believe the party is divided because it sells stories. Are there people out there that will not support one over the other? Of course, but I do not think that it warrants the claim that it is “tearing us apart”. The only people who seem to be doing THAT is the media.

MYTH: The Race is taking too long! That means McCain will win!
Presidential races have gone on this long before and they will again someday. Both Obama and Clinton are out there every day talking to the American people and putting forth their ideas. Every news station in America is covering them! Voters are getting to know their issues and getting to know the Senators. How on earth is this a bad thing? The longer democrats can hold off McCain and Karl Rove, the better off they will be in November! If the race goes until the summer, so be it. If voters have not gotten to know the candidates by then it is simply because they were not paying attention.
MYTH: It is taking so long that Clinton should drop out. She can’t win anyway.
She can’t? Or is the media so desperate for a fresh face, they don’t want her to? She can win the nomination. I hear that the math is against her delegate wise, but what if she blows Obama out of the water in the next few primary by double digits? People do not THINK it will happen but they do not know for sure so why not let it play out? Anything can happen in politics, ANYTHING. If I were running a campaign like Hillary and my website made 6 million in donations in two days, I would not want to stand out there and tell my donors that I dropped out simply because Bill Richardson and Politico.com thought I should. If people did not want her to win, the race would not be this close. The only reason for her to drop out is if she stops getting donations and interest and a clear message that voters do not want her there. Sorry media, but that message is not there yet so I think she should stay in.
Myth: Obama is “anti-American”:
First of all, when did “anti-American” become the catchall phrase? Obama is not “anti-American” and I would challenge anyone to prove to me that he is without showing me the following:
1) His pastor
2) His wife’s statements that she feels “proud to be an American for the first time”
3) The fact that he does not wear a flag lapel pin
First of all, Obama is NOT Jeremiah Wright. Until the words that came out of Wrights mouth come out of Obama’s, they are not representative of him. Obama has said he does not agree and that is that. If you want to believe that he does agree, than you are simply looking for a reason to hate him. Second, his wife can say whatever she wants and suggesting that she cannot is ACTUALLY what is anti-American. I do not agree with everything my husband says, and I know that is true of most married people. Just because one spouse says something does not mean they both think it. Third, I would not wear an American flag lapel on my coat either. If someone wants to wear one that is there right, just like not wearing one is his or her right. If people are choosing a president based on a pin, than we have more problems that I realized.
Myth: Hillary cannot “control” Bill and/or she only stayed married to him for political gain.
The media has vilified Bill Clintons role campaigning for his wife and think that he should step back. First of all, when I run for office my husband should and will help me. Second, what they mean by Hillary “not controlling” Bill implies that any of us can control our spouses. That is wrong thinking and not something we should encourage. Hillary gets blamed a lot for things her husband has done, as if she herself believes in them. Sometimes my husband and I cannot even agree on what kind of latte to buy! Suggesting that husbands and wives must share every thought, every idea, and every belief is just not forward thinking.
Lastly, if she did stay married to him for “political gain” than good for her! He cheated on her and made her get up in front of the whole world while he admitted it. If her idea of revenge on him is to get out there and run for office and do a good job of it, than more power to her and if she has to use his name to do it, so be it. He might as well give her some form of dignity after what he put her through.
Myth: Polls reflect the average American
This is my biggest pet peeve of all: Polls. I have never once been asked what I think about any of this and neither has my friends and family. The news seems to think that their polls reflect what we are thinking and I can assure you they do not. So stop putting poll after poll up. THEY MEAN NOTHING. Some day’s polls show support for Obama and sometimes they show it for Clinton and sometimes it is for McCain. It depends on who is being asked and you do not know how these polls are conducted. What if on my way to school I trip and fall and rip my jeans and the last thing I saw before it was a picture of Obama. If someone were to poll me right then, I would say I was voting for Clinton because she didn’t make me mad at that exact moment. For gods sake, polls do not mean anything!
I actually have more of a rant but for now I will let it go and get to my homework. Thank you for reading!

Do you know what I hate? Carrot Cake. It is so gross! You know what I hate more? The fact that on every single piece of fucking carrot cake, they put a little picture of a carrot. Like that little frosting carrot will make it taste better.
UGH!

As you all know, it has been a very long time since I have written. Actually, that is not true as I have done nothing but write since last August, just not for this. So much has happened that I am not sure where to start. Perhaps I should just write and see what comes out and pretend I never left at all. First of all, I moved. I was supposed to move to Boston with William but that did not work out as planned. Ah well. It makes my life easier because I did not have to transfer colleges. Moving was quite a pain to do in the middle of the school year, but alas, it has been done. Naturally, we moved to a place with neighbors that are practically begging me to write about them. There must be something about suburbia that mess with people’s heads. I sit up here in my office and look out the window and watch and every day something baffling or hilarious happens. Without further ado here is your glimpse into my neighborhood for the day: There is an older couple that lives next door that could very well become my new “lawn mower man.” (You might remember lawn mower man from such instances as mowing at five in the morning, or mowing in a thunderstorm). This will be an ongoing story since being winter and all, I am not sure if this behavior is a seasonal disease so to speak. Conceivably, it will not evolve into lawn mowing in the summer, but something tells me it will. Anyway, as you know, it will not stop snowing as of late. This makes life hard for Mr. Next Door, as he is obsessed with snow blowing. He is so obsessed with it, that he was running it before we got our first snowfall. We figured he was just making sure it worked for the winter, until he took it on a walk around his house and then pretended to snow blow his driveway. So you can imagine his excitement when the first snowfall actually came: he was man with a vision. In this vision, he snow blows every inch of snow that ever falls on his driveway to a point that he will do it several times a day. Today it started around 8Am and as of right now it is a little before 3PM. How many times has he managed to snow blow the driveway? Five. No joke. (Incidentally, it stopped snowing around 10 or 11AM) This man is also the same man who enjoys staring out his window into my office as I type, but that is another story to tell (after I set up my life-size Stephen Colbert standup in the window to surprise him). All that being said, I cannot believe this year is almost over. I wouldn’t have realized it except that everywhere I look is a countdown to the top event, song, quote, etc of the year. I was pretty surprised that Beyonce’s song Irreplaceable was the single of the year, mostly because she says “to the left, to the left” over and over. Not very insightful, but then again, what song is lately? I mean here are some choice lyrics from Gwen Stefani: “I must apologize for acting stank & treating you this way Cause I've been acting like sour milk all on the floor It's your fault you didn't shut the refrigerator Maybe that's the reason I've been acting so cold?” Heh. That is actually kind of funny. The word stank might be my new favorite ever. Another music phenomenon my friends and I have been discussing lately is the trend of putting TIMBALAND in every song possible. You throw his name on there, and people will buy it. The name of your song could be “crap” by “The Moldy Fig Newton’s” and if you present it as “THE HOT NEW SINGLE “CRAP” BY TIMBALAND FEATURING THE MOLDY FIG NEWTONS” that crap would sell (so to speak). Now I not saying that TIMBALAND is an obnoxious overrated rapper with a huge ego, I am just saying he is in a lot of songs. (And by a lot, I mean all. I am pretty sure Elvis is returning from the dead to record a single with him). In other news, I am out of school for the semester. So come and visit me everyone! I like attention! And candy! My internship starts in the summer and I have to pick something related to psychology, work on cover letters, and write a ‘plan of study’. I was thinking of interning with a psychic and trying to justify it as my internship. I bet they wouldn’t see that coming. See, a psychic would have been useful in that case, so therefore it could be useful in other ones. Plus it is related to psychology in that it would be easy for me, this ensuring a less stressful psyche for me! Hmm now just to present it to my cantankerous European advisor. This blog is slowly becoming stupid, and not in the fun featuring Timbaland way. HE STARTED THE SNOWBLOWER AGAIN! No joke! I am trying to take a picture. Damn batteries are dead. Why are my batteries dead every time I try to take a picture of someone snow blowing their driveway? Well, if he didn’t do it so often….

I have been having dreams of loud crashing muddy rivers. I think they cascade from my head and into my stomach in the morning because I wake up and feel like I swallowed them whole.

I am not counting books I have to read for school because otherwise I would not have touched them haha.
**************************
Gone With The Wind/

Ya Ya's In Bloom (Hey they can't all be serious)

/The Ice Queen/

/Summer Sisters/

/Sex Lives of Cannibals/

/Getting Stoned With Savages/

/Memoirs of a Geisha/

/Female Chauvanist Pigs/

/What's the Matter with Kansas?/

/Science As A Candle In The Dark/

/Snow Flower and the Secret Fan/

/Don't Know Much About History/

/What To Eat/

/The Bookseller of Kabul/

/The-Know-It-All/

/Abundance: A Novel of Marie Antoinette/

/The Assault on Reason/

I thought it was time for a random summer update. I have not written anything in awhile, and I figured today was the day. I am awaiting fair Dan to pick me up to go kayaking and have some time to kill.

One thought that ran through my head while I was in the shower today was that there are times I am actually glad I am not on TV. (Not just because I happened to be in the shower at the time)

The reason? I am pretty sure if I was on TV, people would think that I was a raging idiot (which I am not). It just sometimes LOOKS like I could give Jessica Simpson a run for her money if you don't know me well.

And what would cameras find if they followed me around for a week?

Well, for starters they would find a large gaping hole in my garage door. I wish there was some sort of explanation for this other than I was not paying attention and forgot to push the button to cue the door to open. I was thinking about something really important I swear! Anyway, after hearing what sounded like the entire building fall down over my car, these are the words you would have heard me utter had I been on your television: *tiny little voice* "Uh-oh"

Now I have been in car accidents before and the infamous "Bear" incident still plagues me to this day. Yet, I have a feeling this one is going to be the one that gets brought up every time I try to insist that I am capable of operating a motor vehicle.

Guess that will save me some gas money.

Moving on...

I borrowed Ghost Hunters from Jessica and watched just a LITTLE too much of it as of late. The other night when a particular episode caught a ghostly face on camera while they were in Ireland it literally scared the hell out of me. Everyone who knows me and who has been here knows that my house is pretty damn haunted so ghosts don't usually scare me. But this thing...well...lets just say it was ghastly in that horror movie way.

Anyway, I tried to forget about it when I went to bed but instead when I had to get up to use the ladies room I found myself groping along the walls and tripping over things just so I would not have to open my eyes. I knew for a fact that that face from Ireland would be there staring me down! In fact, as I sit home alone typing this, I know he is behind me. (I know its a he because if a girl ghost had that nose, it would have had work done)

The reason I think this Ireland ghost is here is because I have this theory that if you think about a certain ghost, it will know you are thinking about it, and it will come to where you are.They can read minds! Even over the Atlantic Ocean! Come to think of it, I should market that thought and invent the "ghost thinker" or something. You think about a person and they get the message instantly. Wait, is that already a concept? Well even if it is, its mine now. "The Ghost Thinker" will be the next great invention.


Seriously though I have to stop thinking about the ghost or he will come.

Before I creep myself out more, I will change the subject yet again.

Oh god.What the hell is that buzzing?

Not a ghost. Just my stepbrother texting me a million times over. I should have known it wasn't the ghost. I can't even work my cell phone so I doubt Mr.Irish can. I texted him back that he should have used the "ghost thinker".

That shut him up. Show him to text me when I am trying not to think about a ghost.

Wow I am pale. Its sunny out now, but I am of course lathered with sunscreen. You know for those UV rays that might get me while I am typing this up. They could sneak in! What if I got like, finger cancer because one ray of light hit me while I was working every day.

Maybe I will get a little color when I am kayaking but I doubt it. Short of sitting on the sun, I do not think I can get a tan.

Okay, a huge pick-up truck full of hay is driving down my street in reverse. Yesterday a truck from the fire department dumped water all the way up and down the street. What the hell is going on on this street. I am going to write a book about Brook Street and how messed up it is!

Chapter One: "HAY! YOU'RE DRIVING THE WRONG WAY"

Chapter Two: "um, whats up with water?"

All right that one needs a little work.

Well, Dan just arrived and is no doubt standing behind me giving me the look that he does.

So I am off to see if I can get through kayaking without any major disasters.

Camera's ready?

It's been a long time since I have updated and I almost decided not to update today either. What changed my mind? The fact that I have a huge paper due by Saturday that is so inherently difficult that I figured the best course of action would be to dismiss it. Then, at a late night hour a few days from now, I can panic and proclaim myself an idiot for having written this instead of my homework. It's a tradition that I hold deep in my heart and therefore will not break it.

So what have I been up to since I last updated? I think the best way to handle this would be to put it in one of my famous bulleted lists that I swear to the heavens above had better make me famous someday. They give out Pulitzers to books written it bullet point format right?

So without further ado: What Scully Has Been Doing!

Schoolwork: More specifically, this semester has taken such a toll on my psyche that it could quite possibly be the reason I snap years from now, and will have to be committed into some poorly decorated mental institution where I will be forced to eat rice pudding.

Dancing (not with the stars): Matthew and I have taken up swing dancing. It's a lot of fun, but they keep making us change partners. I practice with Matt who if you all have not noticed, is amazingly tall. So I get used to having to step wide. Which means when I have a partner who is a little taller than me, or as short as I am, I find myself nearly dragging them along with me. Then they say, "Hey! You're a Girl! You don't lead!" and then I eviscerate them. After all, I am queen of the fucking world. It's my planet and I'll lead if I want to.

Traveling: Will and I went to Montreal for a few days, where we gave him a tour of the city. Not long after we finished our sweeping tour, parts of Montreal burst into flames. No joke. Then we went to Florida. It was not for pleasure, but for business. William had to be set up at his diving academy and my mom and I had to do something to take care of my grandparents. I did get to see my old police partner Sullivan and that was nice. The rest of the trip was a cesspool of disasters. I feel like I should start singing Ray Charles. "Hard Times" or something at this part of the blog entry. Those of you that know me know what happened and I will leave it at that. As for Florida, well, lets just say that I am 0-3 for fun Florida visits. The highlight was when a drunken man offered Will and I a bud light for a threesome.

Birthday: I had a great birthday this year. There was an event at Matt's restaurant and we went to that and had a lot of fun, and then Brian had a surprise party at his house for me and I had even more fun! I tried to show him some of the swing dance moves I learned but it turns out, he already knows how! My lovely friends mean the world to me, so thank you so much!

Friends: I have spent a lot of time with friends. Some of them for good times, some of them for bad times, but the important thing is that we were together and have each other. Now everyone gather around the fire so I can sing Kumbayah! Is that how you spell that song? I don't even know. It looks right though!

Who's honoring me now: I was invited to be a part of the Chasamore Honor Society last week and I was on the Deans list. Finally being obsessed with my grades paid off! The only thing is, I have to PAY to be in the Honor Society. Shouldn't they, oh I don't know, PAY ME? I mean, my parents used to give me money for good grades, why can't they? I think for a 4.0 I should get a few thousand say in the way of FREE TUITION? Just a thought.

Working on my fitness: my new obsession is working out. I should say my new "old" obsession. I am back up to my 5-miles around Berlin Pond, and for awhile I was swimming until it occurred to me that the pool water looked a little icky. Now I will stick with the elliptical machine and the rowing machine if I can get on the thing without killing myself or making the whole room turn around and laugh at me while I try to get on it and have the rowing machine turn on me so I end up snapping right onto my ass. (Hypothetical situation of course)

I think that covered just about everything there. If I omitted something its because I either did it on purpose or I forgot. Both seem likely. I have missed coming on here and blogging and hearing what you all have to say! I will try and stay in touch now, since school is winding down finally.

Shuddering at the thought of rice pudding,

Scully

Last week I was certain I came face to face with the ghost in my house. I rolled over and there it was. Staring at me. So I stared back. Nothing happened.

When I woke up the next morning I was proud at myself for having not freaked out at the sight of my ghost.

Then I realized that it was just my space heater.

Things haven't changed since that moment. It pretty much set the tone for the week.

Why am I writing the blog in sentences rather than paragraphs? Might as well go with it.
So, science and I are at odds for two reasons this week.

1) Bio psychology

2) An invention that they failed to make years ago.

First of all, bio psychology. What the hell. I know its important to SOME people, but as Dan put it last night, how is it relevant to my field of psychology? Unless I am going to be talking to peas about their feelings, I do not want to know how they reproduce. And furthermore why did I pay 110.00 for this book? What I am going to do is open up to a random page and quote you the first thing that I see! Then you will get what I am dealing with!
Ready?

"It is a mistake to think that completion is merely a response to blind spots. Indeed, completion is a fundamental visual system function..." (Pinel, 2006, p.133)

*yawns* Right a mistake. Wouldn't want to fuck up something like assuming completion means anything other than FINISHING something.

Speaking of completion, I think bio psychology is the blind spot they were referring to. I don't actually know what they were talking about so I am going to complete this thought with an overwhelming *sigh* that you cannot hear, and move on to my second problem with science:

The new invention.

You see, they have invented a doughnut that has caffeine IN it, thus making your morning cup of coffee obsolete. Well, isn't that just TOO LATE. I mean if you could have invented that years ago when I drank both coffee and ate doughnuts, I would be knocking down these peoples doors to get this product. (Especially if it got me off of my red bull binge.)

But noooo they have to come out with it when I am a certified health nut. Well, I guess I am not certified as no one has walked up to me and handed me a certificate saying "Hey, Scully! Your officially a health nut now!"

Come to think of it, I should read the article online. That might not be a rant directed at the right people. I mean scientists are not the one to invent caffinated food products right?

Well, blaming someone aside, my inner Homer Simpson is screaming at me in rage. I will have to calm him down by other mindless activities.

There. I just stared at the wall for five minutes. No joke.

Come to think of it, I wish I HAD made that up just now.

Wow, I should really be doing something right now. Productive that is. Writing in my journal, despite amusing me for a little while, is not what I should be doing. In fact, I am so unproductive today that I have still not gotten dressed. How sad is that? I am going to be like my landlord, walking around the house in her ratty bathrobe that she has not washed since the invention of water. Maybe I should start pounding the sides of the walls as loud as I can like she does, just to get into the spirit of things. Maybe I should call Jessica's husband and yell nonsensical things about snow at him while I am at it whilst I fling my blood from an open wound all over. Better yet, maybe I should stand IN my bathtub wearing said ratty robe with a bleeding cut, while banging on the wall with one hand and talking on the phone with the other.
Then I would be her.

Hmmm. Where did that come from?

Maybe now I am not regretting the fact that I did not have caffinated doughnuts today. That would have made that rant worse in the sense that I would be screaming at the top of my lungs outside of her door. Probably in song form. In other words, I would act like Dan.

They say you would walk a mile in someone's shoes for a day. Well there, I have made that happen for all of you. You have just walked a mile in someone's malformed pale blue slippers.

How do you feel?

I am convinced that I lost brain cells while traveling this last trip.

Don't believe me? Ask me anything! Its guaranteed that I do not know the answer.

I think its something in the air down there. Or maybe the water.

Anyway, on to a more important topic: My New Years resolution.

Now I know a lot of you do not do them because you say you never keep them. I actually have fairly good luck with resolutions. Last years resolution to maintain all A's has still held true, and my all vegan diet is going just fine. Giving up coffee? Back on track after a bit of a lull in New Mexico which I will promptly blame on the brain damage (see above)

Quitting Drinking? Ummm........lets just say its better. Well....improving. In the sense that I should improve it. Well I have not drank very much at all since I have been home. Lets not talk about when I was out in New Mexico though. Lets especially not bring up my dumping baileys irish cream directly INTO said Starbucks that I vowed to give up.

Brain Damage! (see above)

Nevertheless, my resolution this year is to not be so judgemental. You see, I read this story somewhere where a monk put a black marble in a pile for every negative thought he ever had and a white one in a pile for every positive thought. At the end of every day he would take note at just how many negative thoughts he had and in the end made it so there were only white marbles in his pile.

As I told Seth over lunch the other day, I hope COSTCO sells black marbles in bulk. I have failed miserably. In fact, I suck. Case in point? I was just judgemental to ME.

I mean its hard not to judge. Someone cuts in front of you in the car? Asshole. Someone says something so off the wall you think they must be from Clovis? Stupid.

You get the drift.

I suppose I will stare out of my window for a few calming moments and restore my faith in the universe and all its happy glory.

Some dumbass just ran a stop sign.

Best not to look out the window. In fact, its probably better if I stay in and watch TV. No wait, that's a bad idea I am sure to judge something there.

Okay think me.....how can I best not judge people.

Oooh I can sit in the dark and brood like a hermit.
Hmmm that sounded judgemental on hermits.

You know what? Screw new years resolutions. I am not doing one. They are stupid anyway. I will think of one much easier to obtain. I think my new years resolution will be sloth.
Yeah sloth!!
Which one is sloth again? Is that where you eat a lot or sit around a lot? Is there one that combines sitting around and watching the Simpsons while eating salt and vinegar chips? If not I will invent it now and call it.....slothchipsom.

That sounds like a place in England.

Says in British accent: "Why hello young chap! Welcome to Slothchipsom!!"

Sorry, brain damage....

(see above)

~Scully~

I have decided to finally write about my trip. I know I said that I would do it yesterday, but then, well, I didn't. Then I told myself that I would do it earlier today, but then, well, I didn't. So its now or never. And never is not an option, as I need more written proof as to why I should never return to the place where I just was.

As if the proof is not already seared into my brain.

But after a long vigorous walk today (in the pouring rain) I decided to finally get this all out. Also, I was covered in mud. Did I mention that falling in the mud is not as funny when it happens to you, as it is when it happens to say, Joe Pesci?
Trust me, its not.

But I digress on that subject, at least until I feel like ranting about it. Which may or may not be in a few moments.

Anyway.....New Mexico. I know my last post was pretty depressing. Rereading it I almost had to laugh at how dramatic I was. Almost. I am still not in a place where I can laugh at that trip yet.

If only we had made it to Santa Fe, the trip could have redeemed itself. But we didn't. We tried! Don't think that for one second that as soon as William was allowed off from work we took off for Santa Fe. Well actually, not RIGHT after he got out of work. I am still convinced that had I listened to myself and insisted we left right away, we would have been lounging around in a posh hotel room sipping red wine instead of sitting in traffic in light flurries for a few hours.

That's right. On our way to Santa Fe, it started to snow. No big deal right? I mean it was light flurries at best. Santa Fe was just in our reach, as we had already completed much of the trip. Then the traffic stops. We sit there. We wait. We do not move.

Finally the traffic moved and we were able to find out what was going on. The interstate was closed.
No problem, a cop directed us as to which detour to take.
3 South 60 West

As long as I live, I will not forget those directions. Well, as long as I live being probably until the end of this week. Which is tomorrow. So we will see if that is true or not.

Anyway we take the detour onto 3 South which ends up being this itty bitty little back road that winds through the middle of the desert.

So as we travel a bit on the road, I can't help but marvel that semi trucks are able to fit on it. Then we slow down. Traffic gets dense. We stop. Dead Stop. We sit there.

This time there was no one to direct us as to where to go. Cars stretched on for miles and miles. A guy in the car ahead of us gets out of the car and walks forward to see what is going on. When he turns around I call out to him to find out. He tells me that people are stuck in the snow.

Stuck in the snow?????

Did I mention this guy had the whitest teeth I had ever seen? The GLEAMED they were so white. They were like the father, son, and the holy ghost wrapped into teeth. (Hmm what was with the random religious reference there?) Anyway, its like they radiated light. So after averting my eyes to his teeth, I informed Will that we should turn the hell around while we still could.

So we turned around and drove by even more stranded cars.

Getting back to the interstate, we noted that it was still closed. So we had to start driving back the way we came.

BACK TOWARDS CLOVIS!!!

Anyway, I am pretty sure we were not even supposed to be on the side of the interstate AT ALL at this point but I didn't care.

We ended up at a truck stop in Santa Rosa. Yes. Me. I was at a TRUCK STOP. Will likes to start this part of the story with the joke, "A vegan walks into a truck stop"......

Anyway so we are sitting there and we find out that all the roads going west are closed because of the snow.

CLOSED BECAUSE OF THE SNOW???

"yeah there is at least three inches out there" says a random trucky person.

I try not to laugh out loud. Three inches of snow? That is why we have to drive all the way back to Clovis? OVER THREE FREAKING INCHES OF SNOW!!!???

Okay, sorry, a little rage came out there.

Breathe.

Relax.

Release.

All right, I think I will be able to finish now. Did I mention today that we were six miles away from the car and on top of a mountain when it started pouring??? DID I???

Whoops, sorry. Wrong rant.

Back to my regular scheduled moaning which takes place at a truck stop, and not on the mountain.

Here are some random conversations that were overheard at the truck stop.

Waiter to Trucker: "Would you like the 6 oz stake or the 12 oz?"
Trucker: *sputters a bit* "ummm 16 oz? Which one is bigger? Errr I will take the 6 oz...whatever that means"

or my favorite was this woman:
"You know why the leaning tower of pisa is leaning? Because they were drunk when they built it!!!"

Anyway, so after that enlightening experience, I washed my hands in scalding water for five minutes and we were back on the road.

All the way back to Clovis. Right where we started.

Seven hours on the road and we were RIGHT BACK IN CLOVIS.

Tell me that isn't an episode of the twilight zone.

Actually, I know that its not. Because an episode of the twilight zone only lasts a half hour.

My torture was much longer than that.

And for now, that is all I have the energy to type.

Besides, I have some mud to clean up and some revenge to plot.


*Shakes fist towards Clovis* Someday Clovis I will get you back......

Someday.....

“Don't want to let it lay me down this time.
Drown my will to fly.
Here in the darkness I know myself.
Can't break free until I let it go.
Let me go.”
I sat down to write today and found myself at a loss for words. This is rare for me, as words and I have a relatively good relationship (with the exception that I rely on them a little too much.) It is this reliance on words that may be my downfall when I am faced with the silence of the day.
That’s right, I am back here in Clovis visiting William. After my last visit, I had vowed never to return to this place. Sure, New Mexico has its charms. Yet it seems those charms are as far away from here as possible. Whoever named the state license plates “The Land Of Enchantment” clearly skipped this dusty dank part of the state.
Will is at work now. I do not feel guilty for writing this, as he knows my feelings on the subject. He knows that part of my wanting to support him also comes with the deep desire to pick up and fly home. This place would drive me to that act of desperation if I didn’t know I would be leaving in a little under a week.
I have made no friends in this town. I have not even tried. Usually very social, I feel crippled into introversion. My hair is listless, my skin and eyes are dull. Food and I have become enemies again (my throat does seem to want to swallow and I can taste the smell of this town on the food.) However, alcohol and I are catching up after an absence. Any attempt to read seems fruitless, due to the fact that my focus is floating somewhere far away from me. I find that I can stare at a wall for hours at a time without a single thought. The dirt that floats in the air because of the nearby stockyards has to be scrubbed away with rubbing alcohol at the end of every night.
Is this what rock bottom feels like?
This town is a town of false neon lighting and of abandoned empires. Even the Blockbuster Movie Store and Burger King have booked it out of here. Wal*Mart is not only the towns grocery store; it seems to be the only place to get anything around here. The mall is full of gaping holes and the stores that are there are full of merchandise so old, one wonders if they were stocked when the town was founded. The restaurants smell like stale smoke, as smoking is still allowed in public places here. The world restaurant is giving too much credit to this place. There are no “restaurants.” Just corporate fast food eateries such as SONIC and WENDYS. Applebee’s is the only saving grace, but despite just being built, it looks as worn as everything else here.
That is not all that is worn here. On Will’s base, there were 5 suicide attempts in a week. Domestic Violence thrives here and one can frequently hear people screaming at one another in public. DUI’s are another common problem that his base cannot keep up on. The energy is so bad that when you drive away its like a reawakening. Will said that when he visited me in Vermont, he could feel life returning to him finally.
This all sounds so dramatic doesn’t it? I wish I were not exaggerating. When Sarah came here, I am sure she was expecting it to be half as bad as I was describing. That was not the case. It was AS bad if not worse than what I can possibly put into words.
And so, I sit here alone in the silence contemplating how long I can withhold in this situation without drinking more. At this time it seems that words are failing me yet again so I will leave you all on a darker note that usual. But not all is lost:
In my mind, I am anywhere but here.

'Truthiness' wins Word of the Year
POSTED: 7:09 a.m. EST, December 9, 2006
Story Highlights• Truthiness is "truth that comes from the gut, not books"


• Comedian Stephen Colbert coined the term
• Truthiness sums up 2006, according to online survey
• Merriam-Webster carried out survey
Adjust font size:
SPRINGFIELD, Massachusetts (AP) -- After 12 months of naked partisanship on Capitol Hill, on cable TV and in the blogosphere, the word of the year for 2006 is ... "truthiness."

The word -- if one can call it that -- best summed up 2006, according to an online survey by dictionary publisher Merriam-Webster.

"Truthiness" was credited to Comedy Central satirist Stephen Colbert, who defined it as "truth that comes from the gut, not books."

"We're at a point where what constitutes truth is a question on a lot of people's minds, and truth has become up for grabs," said Merriam-Webster president John Morse. "'Truthiness' is a playful way for us to think about a very important issue."

Other Top 10 finishers included "war," "insurgent," "sectarian" and "corruption." But "truthiness" won 5-to-1, Morse said.

Colbert -- who once derided the folks at Springfield-based Merriam-Webster as the "word police" and a bunch of "wordinistas" -- was pleased.

"Though I'm no fan of reference books and their fact-based agendas, I am a fan of anyone who chooses to honor me," he said in an e-mail to The Associated Press.

"And what an honor," he said. "Truthiness now joins the lexicographical pantheon with words like 'squash,' 'merry,' 'crumpet,' 'the,' 'xylophone,' 'circuitous,' 'others' and others."

Colbert first uttered "truthiness" during an October 2005 broadcast of "The Colbert Report," his parody of combative, conservative talk shows.

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.