The Metro can eat my ass.

So I was on the metro this morning going to work... well, who am I kidding, it was like 10am... and although it was pretty hot outside, I'm pretty sure the metro car's temperature was slightly 10 degrees cooler than "hell" on the Farenheit scale. It reminded me of those old, small churches in the South on hot summer days that you see in movies, like Forrest Gump. The only thing missing was an usher in white gloves passing out fans with Mahalia Jackson on one side and an ad for a funeral home on the other. Now, I think of myself as a person that doesn't discriminate against anyone. But this was a morning that I felt a little something against large people. I mean, I didn't want a big body pressed up against me when I was already hot on my own. It's like Russian Roulette when you're pulling into the train stops... like, damn, don't let that person sit next to me... whew... come on, skinny person! It worked out though- I sat by myself for most of the journey, and when I did sit by someone, it was a moderately thin girl who didn't smell bad. Had someone larger sat next to me, I wouldn't be writing this right now, and you'd be hearing- hey, did you hear about Jen? She died of heat stroke. Yeah, I hear they had to peel her off of some woman named Gladys' arm at Farragut North. It was like velcro!

On another note, here is something that I never thought I'd say. I am a... sports fan. I know! What the hell. Before, if people asked me if I was a sports fan, I'd say no, but I like Gatorade okay, that's about it. But last night I watched the NBA East Game 4... at home... by choice! I especially never thought I'd like basketball. I guess it took me actually going to a game before I started to like it, and that was only towards the beginning of this year. So, I have officially seen pro basketball games, hockey games, soccer games, and baseball games. I still think baseball sucks though.

I feel a little guilty today. There is about 1-2 days per month where I am, well, let's just say that I'm not the nicest person in the world. So what, I figure, it happens to most girls. Well last night was the night that my hormones decided to rear its ugly head... of course it was the night that the boy came over, after picking up dinner and flowers for me. I'm such a bitch and feel horribly guilty about it now. So I'm sending these thoughts northward, towards DC from Old Town... I'm sorry. :-(

I swear I'm not on happy pills.

What is this that I'm feeling? Cramps? Anxiety? A headache coming on? Confusion? Is the valium I took before my dentist appointment last night still in my system? Hunger? Who's hungry? Wait, I think I get it now.... I'm.... happy. It's been creeping up on me for awhile now, at least a few months... and I think I've actually figured it out. I'm happy. I love just about every aspect and every significant player that factors into my life. Not only am I happy, but I'm comfortable. I was pretty much the exact opposite last year- enough so that I fucked off to Belfast on a very last-minute whim and tried to find a job there because my life here sucked bigtime. People have told me that there are reasons for things happening in peoples' lives, and I haven't believed them. I still don't believe in things happening for a reason, but I can see how they would think that now. It's just so weird how my life has changed- for the better- in all sorts of strange ways. And it's only May. I can only imagine what will happen if it keeps heading in this direction. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. On a side note, if you're reading this and are one of the people that have made my life what it is right now, from the bottom of my heart- thank you.

I HATE the summer. Warm weather, to be exact.

I had to break down and buy a personal fan for the metro. It looks like I have a thyroid problem or something. But it's just so damn hot... and it's not even really the summer yet! It's not really summer because 1, it's about 80 degrees, and 2, my hair is actually behaving itself. My hair never looks like this when it's warm outside... thank you, SunSilk Anti-Poof. Seriously.

You know what I hate? People who don't respond when you ask how they're doing. For instance, a coworker just walked by and said hello, I said "Hi, how're ya doing?" and they just kept walking. Ew.

So, my parents were up this weekend. It was also a weekend where I got invited to do lots of fun things, like go to Adams Morgan with some coworkers and to a Nats game with an old coworker and her apparent new best friend, some girl who has a horse. I have to admit, that's damn cool. My parents drove me absolutely f-ing NUTS though. I don't know what it is, but because they try to help (a little TOO much) and "get all up in my bid-ness", as the boy said, that I would just lash out all of the time. Mostly at my mom. I wasn't allowed into one of the Smithsonians this weekend because I had a swiss army knife (very small) on my keychain, and so I was frustrated. I asked them what they wanted to do and we were literally standing on a street corner, trying to figure it out for like 10 minutes! So frustrating. Of course the boy called at that very moment, so I yelled at him and just about hung up on him. I felt awful. But it's this complicated relationship I have with my parents. Maybe if I had a sibling it wouldn't be as bad- they wouldn't be so focused on what I'm doing, who I'm seeing, etc. One of the first things they did when they got to my new apartment (which they aren't fond of) was to switch around my furniture. No joke. Deep breaths.