"Superstitious supermodel Iman is so beautiful...she has to die."

I'm so lucky to have hilarious people in my life. Three of them I played Trivial Pursuit with last night, and I nearly had an aneurysm from laughing so hard at one point. Which made it okay that I lost the game. Though I made a bid for a partial win because I correctly predicted that the game would end with all four of us having all of our pieces, vying to get to the middle and answer an easy sports&leisure question, because when you're big nerds like us, that's the hardest category.

After the hilarity of the evening, the ride home in the deep quiet of the fog made for an interesting transition. I was happy when I finally made it home and felt enveloped in comfort and love.

This morning I woke up around 6 am, partly because I've only gotten six hours of sleep the previous two nights so my body has already gotten into a habit and partly Lowenstein seemed to have gotten woken up as well. When the alarm went off nearly two hours later, it took great amounts of willpower to not turn off the alarm and call in sick to work. But instead, I rolled out of bed and stuck myself with a needle. Today was "the big day" for my first time self-injecting, and I was initially going to do it this evening but then I thought having too much buildup and fretting too much on technique would cause excess anxiety. Better to do it "on a whim" and just trust myself. I initially had a slightly difficult time drawing the syringe, but other than the whole operation was smooth sailing. Not even any bleeding when I pulled out, though I did get this HUGE adrenaline rush afterward and started shaking. Which made me even more relieved I decided to do the shot while half-asleep, before I had a chance to get myself worked up.

Also, it made me a little turned on. Or, um, maybe a lot turned on. And not in the rush-of-hormones way, more in the kinky way.

I keep forgetting, like Michael McDonald.

Yesterday in the mail I got my financial aid packet from Antioch AND (finally) my rejection letter from Bennington. I can't believe I forgot to mention either, probably because 1) I can't understand all the info regarding my loans other than what lines to initial, and 2) I wasn't surprised or hurt by the Bennington letter. In fact, I was rather appalled by what their obvious form letter said: "we are unable to offer you a position in our program. We know you are disappointed by this." Whatthefck? Um, actually, no I wasn't disappointed by it at all. I mean, maybe if it had happened several weeks ago or if I had been invested in your program, but not now that I'm excited by the school I chose. But thanks for playing, you pompous jerks.