c'est mardi

J'adore ma vie.. c'est ritualistique comme l'église. (Point Un: Je déteste la ritualisme des églises).
Je n'adore pas pas vie.. c'est ritualistiqe comme l'église. (Point Deux: Je déteste la ritualisme des églises).
J'adore la bibliothéque.. c'est tanquille. (Point trois: La silence c'est, des fois, assoudissante).
J'adore que mes dissertations sont finis. Soyons finis. (Point quatre: Je ne sais pas assez la verbe finir).

juste une autre minute

why is it that all the best talks seem to begin way to late at night, when one should be heading off to bed? these are especially stressing when they're talks that go on and on for hours, and neither communicator wishes to stop, even when both know that stopping as soon as possible would probably be a good idea.

First day home

She says that she came home with two new boobs. Now, this isn't exactly the truth. Well, not entirely. In reality she came home with only one boob, and a huge insicion that has been closed up with lots of neat and perfectly spaced staples. The two new boobs, are just little bubbles, little drain that collect all the junk that's oozing out of the wound while it heals. We all joke, but know that deep down, there is a serious undertone beneath our smiles.
It is good though, that she's home. It's better to be here, where things are familiar, and comfortable instead of the sterile white walls of a hospital that has that hospital smell.
It's hard sometimes though to figure out what to say about it all, hard to articulate feelings properly. Sometimes I don't know whether to cry or not, whether it's appropriate to laugh or not.
One feeling that I do know for sure about though is that I love my mom. She is so important to me, and such a strong influence and representation of a great woman, and I am grateful that she is strong enough to get through all this.. I know that she'll be able to.

bush sucks.