Don't make me ask for Painter back...

 I was going to write a letter to the Colts, but I don't currently have anything polite to say. Instead I think I'll just sit here and cry into my Vanilla Chai. This is gonna be a loooooong season...

Block

I've got partially written posts sitting around as drafts. I've got a million and one ideas. But for whatever reason, I can't seem to actually write something and FINISH it. Writer's block? Emotional block?

I've been reading all of your blogs, commenting on some. I'm trying to think of all the things I want to do for me. Things that I had pushed aside or planned to just not do because I was making compromises for love. It's actually kind of hard to remember some of them. And I've changed, so a lot of things aren't even the same. I guess I'm rediscovering myself.

It's weird.

I think I've moved into the next stage of grief. Which happens to be Revenge. I'm not actually going to do anything...but a girl can dream, right? The problem here is that I don't think I've actually left the other two stages (Sad and Angry) yet, so I've got that pleasant emotional roller coaster thing going on. It's like junior high but instead of coming down from a crush I'm coming down from an engagement and by this point in my life I've made plans for my life that could actually happen instead of dreaming about how someday I'll be tall.

(Don't judge. Sometimes even an English major needs a break from the rules of grammar.)

Posts about stuff I actually did (vs my ramblings) coming soon. Not going to promise they'll be coherent, though.

P.S. Yes, I am still pouting about the superbowl. I heart my colts. *Tear.*

Unclean! Unclean!

So last week my dad took me to the doctor so I could get tested for h1n1 because the symptoms for it are the same as the symptoms for essentially everything (including a sinus infection, which was the winner). I was not positive for h1n1 (although the dr had me stay home from class the rest of the week "just in case." I didn't argue.). Today I got a text from my mom. Guess who does have the piggy flu? My dad. So the sweet man drove me to the doctor when I felt too sick to drive, waited a couple of hours with me, and bought me dinner, all the while EXPOSING ME TO SWINE FLU. And since I have the worse immune system in the world, I am finishing every pill of my antibiotic like a good girl, washing my hands for excessive amounts of time, saline-ing my nose, and consuming many hot beverages, because apparently the little devil likes to live in the throat & nose before it attacks. Pretty sure I've had the seasonal flu at least once already. Really not in the mood to catch something that will make University send me home.

I am now going to go pretend I do not feel like total crap because I had an amazing weekend with Fiance and the Colts won. Possibly I feel ill due to the power of suggestion. That could make me throw up a lot...right?

I'll Still Love Football When My Skin Starts to Peel

Weekend with Fiance was amazing. We watched his University football team play on Saturday (at the stadium - I am sunburnt beyond belief.) Today we watched some good 'ole NFL.

Here's a precious moment from today:

(Fiance & I are both wearing our team's football jerseys.)
Fiance's Roommate: Big game today?
Me: It's the first game of the season.
Him: Basketball?
*crickets*

He was not even kidding. I don't think I can be friends with him.