Love Made Me Blind: A Friendship In Reprise

This post is about Ace. Who will invariably read it. Today we spent the day together. We got lunch and thrifted for ridiculous items like hooker skirts and pirate jewelry. Now, normally I don't need to explain my titles, but I'm sure this one's got most of you wondering. And it's because I realized how the rest of the world sees us. Ace is my best friend. I knew that, if you read this blog at all, you know that, and so does the rest of the world. And my love for her made me blind to the way the rest of the world sees us: as a completely batshit, occasionally crude, but mostly humorous matched pair. We assumed our level of awesome mind-reading insanity was normal. I realized it wasn't when she IMed me 30 minutes after she left saying she missed me. We really are a matched pair, even though we had virtually nothing in common when we met years ago, and still don't except a love for coffee, women, and being awesome. And by being awesome I mean women. I'm leaving for a trip in a few days, and I probably won't be back for the rest of July. Which is dumb. Because I'm going to miss her and she's going to miss me and it's going to be stupid. God knows when we're together we spend more time around each other than most couples do. So this post is for her, to tide her over while I'm gone, even though she hates this sappy shit. Because I love her more than I'll ever love any girlfriend. Bros before hoes and all that. Love you babe, I'll miss you when I'm gone.

Nondum Lux Erat: My Brain Speaks In Latin When Tired

So, I've been trying to kick my coffee addiction for a while now, and last night, because JJ and Riven and I are trying to get on something resembling a normal sleep schedule, we decided to stay up all night. BAD DECISION.
I got back from my best friend Ace's place at like 2 am. JJ and Riven were still up. For some random reason JJ and I were starving. So we went to Denny's, home of late night breakfast, hookers, gay men, and the best cheap shit coffee outside of a real 50s diner. I drank two cups before I realized they were even poured. We got home at probably around four, and JJ and Riven went promptly to bed. I did not.
Coffee, for me, is more than a great way to spend money or an unfortunate dependency or a great way to go on a date without it seeming like a date. Coffee makes me superman. If you've ever heard the phrase in literature "...made their blood sing..." that's exactly how I feel when I have coffee. I can't sit still. I don't feel pain. I'm inspired to start projects I'll never finish. I can't even keep up with my own thoughts. I am invincible.
I'm also the one person on the planet who doesn't crash. I go back to normal levels of energy, but I lack the comatose-zombie-irritable-bitch phase most people get when their java finally wears off. So it makes sense I'm picky about my coffee, since I drink so damn much of it normally. I only drink two kinds of coffee. Expensive shit worth more than it's weight in gold I import from Italy that's totally organic, or cheap shit coffee. Not like, Starbucks commercialized cheap shit coffee, like Denny's-Dunkin' Donuts-4 a.m. Circle K sludge coffee. I know, I don't make any sense to me either.
So now I've had two cups of cheap shit coffee, and I haven't slept all night because my body thinks that alligator wrestling sounds like a legitimate career choice as opposed to sleep right now. Unfortunately, my brain is so tired it reverted to Latin, which I know because it announced the sunrise with a cheery "Lux est!" this morning.
I'm so, so screwed for functionality today. Clearly. I'm blog posting at 9 a.m. Until later.

We Duct Tape Hamburger Meat to Fishtanks: How Our Household Deals With Grief

Despite a brief hiatus, I'm back. This past weekend, JJ, Riven and I sojurned to our hometown for Father's Day, and I went to see my grandmother in the hospital.
For me, the visit went about as expected. My grandmother's condition is serious; she has calcium deposits growing in her skull. According to the doctor, this condition, while rare, is one that you either get used to (read: your brain and skull recalibrate around the deposits, requiring a period of adjustment) or it kills you. My grandmother can barely open her eyes or walk, but she's lived over two weeks since the diagnosis, so the chances she'll power through it are good.
When we got home, the new fishtank looked off, and stank something fierce. Long story short, the fish got Ick, the fish version of flu. So we spent a few hours cleaning out the tank and filtering the water and putting antibiotics in.
One of our plecos didn't make it. The pleco is dead, long live the pleco! Unfortunately, we had a panic moment when the temperature of the new water we put in was too high for the remaining fish that would have to return to the tank. Time was running short, since they were in a temporary tank made out of a water bottle. We ran out of ice to put in the tank. What were we to do???? And then I had a flash of inspiration: I had duct tape. It fixes everything.
So we taped a bunch of frozen hamburger meat to the outside of the tank to cool it. Success! The temperature dropped 4 degrees, but it still wasn't enough. We needed it to drop two more. In a flash of 20/20 hindsight, Sweetheart realized we lived like, two feet away from the Safeway, and that we could just buy a huge fuckoff bag of ice for a couple bucks. Awesome. And then Riven was like "You should post the ridiculousness of today in your blog." And I was like "...Ok." And then this happened. Until later.

The Luck Strikes Again

One day, JJ and I were talking about luck. People have all sorts of luck, good luck, bad luck, fickle luck, and certain luck. I have what JJ affectionately refers to as "THE Luck".
"The Luck" is the sort of luck in legends and fairytales and fiction. It means my life doesn't do things by halves. When my luck is good, it's really really good. But when my luck runs out, it's like looking for water in the Sahara. Lately it's been good. The duplex, the fish, the printer...and the girl. Who may be one of the best thing's that's ever happened to me, even if we're only friends for now. I think. I can't get up the balls to clarify. Go me. Cowardice FTW.
But today, my luck ran out. My grandmother is in the hospital. And. She's old. Like in her 70s old. And for the first time in my life, I have real regrets. Because I don't want her to die while I'm still a disappointment to her. As much as my family and I may be on the rocks, I have always loved Grammy, and she has always loved me. It makes me wish I'd somehow tried harder to stay in university, somehow done better.
So all I can do now is hope, and try to make her proud. This post is dedicated to her, because it's something I've done on my own, and she'd be proud of this blog. Proud that I've made myself a presence, even if it is anonymously on the internet. I guess that's all I have to say right now.

...Dear Blog,

Today has been a shitty day. The Great White Dumbass kept me up all of last night yapping, and so I let her in. Only to find out this morning that I'm pretty sure she pissed on the couch, because it smells weird, though it wasn't damp by the time I got to it. Additionally, she proceeded to rip up one of Riven's favorite couch pillows when I jumped in the shower because she got separation anxiety. Clearly house sitting is not for me. Other than that, the printer is working and connected to the wireless. Currently I'm sitting on the other couch (which is insofar undamaged) contemplating a plate of milk and cookies and a bottle of port and I'm trying to choose. Someone please god, bring me a decent beer. And by decent I mean Guinness.

A Day of Reflection and Refraction

So I know I'd said I'd only post when something epic happened, and I'm not really sure if the events of today count. We finally went and picked up the fish, they're acclimating nicely. Other than that, I haven't done much today. I did a lot of thinking, which is where the reflection comes in, and a lot of talking, which is where the refraction comes in.
The definition of refraction is "the change in direction of a wave due to a change in its speed". That's what I feel like I'm doing today by speaking, by typing, by emitting verse like a wave, and letting it change other people's directions. Or trying anyway. Maybe more like hoping.
Sorry guys. This is sort of a maudlin post. But I think mostly I'm refracting against myself. Changing my own direction. Letting the waves of my verse slow me down, and make me do a sharp right, towards someone. A new, beautiful and brilliant star in my life, who I can only hope to be allowed to catch and to hold as it falls.

Fascinating Revelations at Fascinations?

So, today, we got a printer. And then we went to the sex...-ahem- "personal improvement" store where my best friend, Ace works. It was kind of hilarious. And I learned things about my housemates I never wanted to know. Actually that's a lie. I pretty much knew already. Anyway, much hilarity ensued. Especially when the manager told us the story about how a male bar bouncer she once knew told her he "broke his clitoris". Apparently the man didn't know the name for your clavicle.
Today, being the third solid day of awesome in a row has cemented my theory. Writing this blog is definitely causing more epic things to happen. By itself. It's like voodoo, except with less creepy chanting and cajun food. Maybe now I'll actually like, start making $20 an hour, get a girlfriend, and get published or something. More likely the something. And by something I mean accidentally brain myself with a frying pan, offend the cute chick I really like horribly, and be tracked down by the IRS for my nonexistent tax evasion. All in the same day. Who says epic has to be good?
Anyway. It's getting late folks, so I'll update again when something epic happens. Which right now is looking like at least once a day. Peace, love, and wasted hippies.

Combination Fishtank and Liquor Cabinet!

Yeah. Really. Also, I didn't mention this before, but I should give my wonderful readers a bit of background on my living situation. I currently live in a duplex in Collegetown, USA® with two couples. JJ and Riven are the greatest lesbian couple I've ever met. They're awesome. I've known JJ since grade school, and met Riven about a year before she started dating JJ. They're engaged. It's so adorable that it would make a 12 year old girl obsessed with Joe Jonas and sequins puke.
The other couple is Sweetheart and Jackass. I haven't known them long, but they're pretty awesome too. Sweetheart is, well, a sweetheart. She's the one who makes sure we all get along and play nice, though I've heard she hits pretty hard when playing punch buggy. Jackass, her fiance, DOES hit pretty hard when playing punch buggy. I have bruises. But he's ok too. He's totally like a brother to me. And the dog, who I'm going to call The Great White Dumbass. She's a giant furball of awesomely stupid.
Anyway, I digress. I said in an earlier post that we were getting fish. What I didn't mention is that since the fishtank stand has shelves, we're going to start using it as a liquor cabinet. This is because JJ, in addition to being the resident poet, brews. Yeah, really. And this is definitely not your granddaddy's moonshine type brewing. In the past month, I've been exposed to Rose Mead, Maple Mead, Coffee Beer (???), and I'm soon to be the tester for the Cherry Mead she's got sitting on the kitchen counter. I'm sure that if this keeps up, I'll start not being able to walk in a straight line on a regular basis. At any rate, the Cherry Mead is taking up ALL the kitchen counter space, so naturally, where are we going to put the finished bottles but the fishtank!
No one should ever accuse this household of being normal, but no one ever said that's a bad thing either. At least not until I try to drink the TetraFin, or we find the catfish dead drunk. Until later.

Awesomeness breeds awesomeness?

So, I'm pretty sure that by starting this blog, I have caused epic things to happen in my life more often. I wasn't planning on posting today unless something really cool happened. And then it did. Surprise surprise?
Basically, it was over all an awesome day. I didn't wake up until after noon, when I woke up to a text from one of my housemates, we'll call her Riven. She made me coffee and texted me when it was ready. Total win. Then we went for lunch and went to pick up dog food, and came out of the pet store with a fifty gallon fish tank, it's stand, a bunch of decorations, and all the food and filter items necessary to keep a giant Plecostomus and a bunch of other fish we're picking up in the next few days, to be purchased by my other lovely housemate, JJ. That's right ladies and gents, we're buying a fuckton of pet fish. Because we're awesome.
Anyway, I have to go wash the gravel and condition the water in the new tank. I'll post again soon guys.

An Introduction of Sorts

So I started this blog because a new friend told me I had an interesting life, and I should write a blog. Thus Nonsense and Shenanigans was born. Also I have nothing to do while waiting for my laundry to finish, dishes to accumulate, and although I really should be working on my resume, I'm lazy.
First an explanation. Less than a month ago, I was kicked out of University. Which was really only the last in a shitty string of events that's dominated the last year of my life, including one spectacularly psycho ex, and a few midnight hospital runs, plus bouts of intermittent alcoholism. The point of this blog is that I'm never addressing those events again. I'm done with that part of my life. I'm free now. I'm going to work, and go to massage school, and do what I want with myself from now on.
So this blog is going to document my awesomely awesome awesomeness. Say that three times fast. Anyway. The first awesome event of my new life was making fresh handmade guacamole today, which was epic, and then talking to someone I really like for a couple hours, and not having any other notable accomplishments today. More tomorrow. Or something. Whenever the fuck I feel like it.