Always the Wrong Season

I feel like ripping my hair out. Or, I would, except I like my hair. This year was good. Great. Wonderful. Well, except for me constantly hating Germany, and hating the fact that it kept me from Traverse City and...ok hating almost everything. Besides the people I met. Except even this was only wonderful because I kept expecting things to happen that didn't, or...or loving people who wouldn't love me back. So now I'm more than positive that next year is going to suck. Because not only are all those people leaving, but I don't even have any misconceptions, or hopes I suppose, to cling to. This might have been a good thing, except for me this just all makes me depressed. At least I've got my cat, whose up on the computer desk right now where he's not supposed to be, with his head on my hand (which admittedly makes it hard to type) and purring, so I don't have the heart to get him off.

I realized something. I was beginning to think, around January, (forgive me you guys) that even if I could move back I didn't know if I'd want to. I'd want to move, but not ditch everyone here. Well guess what. After this year, if someone handed me a plane ticket I'd be on that plane without any thoughts of coming back, and my only tears would be for leaving Adam, and not being able to see Jacob at Christmas. I want to go home. Now. Like zap, here I am! But I can't do that unfortunately, and my butt's to big for me to squeeze through the phone. So whose got that plane ticket??

I need book therapy. I need a large sum of money and a jaunt to Borders, where I spend extravagant amounts of that money at one time, and my iced latte tastes especially good because the cafe workers know that I just spent extravagant amounts of money. At one time. It tends to work that way, don't ask me why. I need to repeat this process every other day for a month and I'll be all set. And I'll have a significantly larger, and fuller bookshelf. The reason I have so many books is because of trips such as described above, though my extravagant amounts of money tended to be so because I couldn't bring myself to buy anything else. I worked for my mom and whaa la! Books! Now she has no job, which means I don't, and no job + no money= no books. My rate of books bought (lol sorry) has slowed to a trickle, and I'm stuck here waiting for my next shipment, absurdly grateful that I can get any over here at all without learning a new language.

And now I've bored you all to tears. Math on Spring Break and me rambling on and on about something you guys don't care about. Except for Nikki, and even you aren't as obsessed as I am and you know it. Now your sitting there thinking, "Thank God" because I just realized this whole blog sounds really conceited. But I'm not going to erase it. Sigh...

I watched "The Holiday" yesterday, and I really liked it, but I couldn't help but wonder why I never watch these things when they come out. Around Christmas. When you're supposed to. It's kinda like how I always sing Christmas carols in July, and it drives Anna nuts to the point where she orders me to eat another popsicle just so I'll shut up. Of course, you can hum even through a popsicle if you really try. Heh heh.