Holy crap, interesting ride in to work today! Fruitville west of Lemon closed up with me on it. Saw, through the torrentially pouring rain, flashing lights in the right-hand lane, leading me and another SUV to ease over to the left. Then the fire truck in front of the police car pulled across both lanes to prevent our further progress. This, I quickly realized, was motivated by the BLUE GLOW emanating from the top of the electric pole shortly beyond our position. Intermittently, it would explode. Big yellow and red sparks, with a sound I could hear all the way in the car. SUV and I sat there for a few minutes, a bit at a loss of what to do, since another cop car had pulled across the entrance to west-bound Fruitville behind us. SUV eventually backed out and went south, where I opted to make a 5-point turn and slip around the cop car to go north.

Did I mention that only one stoplight was still performing uninterrupted? Others, if on at all, were just flashing yellow or red. Ai yi yi. Made it up to work, but BARELY. Took me twice as long to go as it usually does.

Pretty, though. 'lectricity's pretty.

Is it the full moon? Was there something in the water? Just been having some crazy-ass interactions with people tonight. Got accused of conspiracy, "young lady"d a lot, was honest to God CALLED on the fact that it wasn't night yet and I said "have a good night." "Have a good day," wasn't even a good enough fix. "Evening," he suggested.

For God's sake, either buy a room or fuck off.

It's wild how easy it is to live with Jeremy. Perhaps the fact that we were already cohabitating in the practical sense eased us in, but really, it's just a breeze. In habits that we want to keep but he keeps forgetting (I do to, occasionally), I'll remind by a single word and he'll always answer with the same "DAMMIT! Sorry," and it makes me laugh. With infrequent exceptions, we've been going to bed and waking up with each other. That might change as I get a bartending job, but it's good for now. We talk carefully, talk broadly, talk funny. It's glory to be so easily wrapped up in each other. We do our own thing, then draw back inexorably to each other.

I just saw what I suspect is a hooker walk past.

Jeremy's honest high regard for some things he views me as being strong at surprises me, when he expresses it without ceremony. My financial organization being one, which just warmed me to no end. I can be as confident, broad-ranging as you could ever want, but there's still a sense of validation when I'm casually told that I'm valued.

:-P Loving a trickster is occasionally hell, though. He decided to wake me from a nap by making some sort of loud sound. Rolled up tube smacked into his palm, or something. Freaked me the fuck out. He learned then and there not to do that, 'cause he had to take a few minutes to put me back together. He's good for that, though.

I'm working at getting myself hired as a bartender, having now graduated from that trade school I signed up for. Mel just rightly suggested strip clubs. Hells yes, I'd do that. Bartend? I'd probably be the best quality employee they'll find. Reliable, responsible, great customer service, and I look good in a miniskirt. I'll start calling tonight.

In two days, I'll stand in my empty dorm, readying to walk for my diploma. Perhaps I'll be adjusting my tie, perhaps fixing my eyeliner before I head down to the bay. I'll be graduating in a 3-piece suit, walking with peers and friends, keenly aware of everything and nothing around me. In the audience will be my mother, perhaps my uncle, my father, my sister, my lover, his parents, my tutoree, my friends, my life.

My life is people, my life is activity. I have little need to go to bars, galleries, movies, arcades, or the like. My greatest joys in the last year have been going to friends' homes and gathering, chatting, playing games, watching movies. Claire's pickup games of Arkham Horror. Katy's movie nights, especially when she asks us to bring the ingredients for a meal which she'll make. Me, I think that's an excellent trade. This past Saturday, I gathered with other Fair people and began to be joined into their ranks as I learned how to fight with swords. A little more of this, and I won't feel like an utter imbecile against Kyle anymore. I learned the 1-through-8s, practicing them both on my own and with a couple different people. Bruce brought me slowly into their habit of improvising, and was patient with me during my initial "oh god"s. I listened to an epic-length debate over the merits of the new Star Trek movie and problematic episodes from the various series, discussed flogging experiences with Doc, and learned about what leatherworking tools I want to start my collection with from Dean and Tara. I reveled.

I am moving into an apartment with Jeremy. We've signed the lease, we've hooked up the electric. No water yet, but I'm getting that on tomorrow. I'm likely to get a second job as a front desk agent at another hotel (adorable place) out on Siesta Key. Tuesday, I start trekking up to Tampa in the mornings for the Tampa Bartending school. I've set everything up. I did it on my own. I've researched car insurance and I'm going to get a new policy in my name. After my contract with T-Mobile runs out, Jeremy and I are going to look at getting an account together, since we're not going to go for a land line. Internet's also on the list to look at. Jeremy's getting an awesome gig on a Tampa dinner cruise, which will pay him to dress like a pirate and tell stories to the patrons.

I'm having to adjust, but I feel I'm adjusting well to the mindset of not having classes, schoolwork, or assignments left to me. It's all on me, now. All on my mind. Far from desiring the intellectual strike I'd been claiming I'd take, I'm excited to finally have the mental resources left to me to start researching some things I've wanted to know about for a while. Essential oils. Herbs. Vegetable gardening. I have a number of books, both on my own and newly inherited from Mom's purgings, that will fill my head with such new knowledge, I can't wait.

I really mean that. I'm getting out of college, and I'm starting to see my life. I can't wait.

*Mute cabbage-patch dance of bacc-passing awesomeness*

Oh my God, Larry King. Really? "Making Whoopie"?

Let the shame burn. Buuuuurn.

My eyes burn a little. Not as bad as earlier, before I'd washed my makeup off. Now it's the glazed burn of a computer-reader who'd not been blinking enough. I try not to blink because my eyes are getting heavy. I can't sleep. Not yet. It's been two hours since I took a break, so I play a game of Spider Solitaire. I lose, but no biggie. I go downstairs and grab an apple and some peanut butter. I hope that the activity will help keep me awake, but I already know it's not. I read somewhere that apples are more effective at keeping you awake than coffee. Maybe that's "waking you up", different animal. This shit's not helping, that's for sure.

I've been going to bed at three. I'm going to have to surpass that, tonight. I have grammar notes, one last bit of Greek to find, and oh HELL I haven't translated the battle scene yet. I might just keep Ana company while she crochets and I translate. It's not just those things, either. I have to find new sources to cite instead of Conte and Otis, at least for some of it. I HOPE that'll be a swift process, given the magic of indexes. I might just be fucked. I have a couple of paragraphs to research and write from "Epic Successors of Virgil". That shit's been on my to-do list for WEEKS. Fucking hell.

It is both a solace and a curse to type next to Jeremy as he sleeps. I love looking at him, but he's SLEEPING. That's what I want to be doing. He's peaceful, he's sprawled over blankets and pillows, arms wrapped around one as I wish they were around me. But, no. I'm sitting on a cushion on the floor with papers, books, and miscellanea scattered about me, takking away on the laptop perched on the bed, shoulders knotted, eyes increasingly glazed, despairing of ever getting this done. I've run out of "I'll do it in the morning"s. It ends here. I don't wanna.

When my life, my heart, or my head starts getting too full and I freak out a bit, I clean. I organize. I let my OCD run. Something about controlling my outside world because I can't control what's in.

The pens are VERY neat on my makeshift desk.

I'm going to bed.

Good way to start the day. Got up at 7, ended up making enough skillet scramble for Jeremy, me, AND his folks. Gave the cat a pill, downloaded some Cranberries music, and I'm just about ready to start thesising.

Hanging in there. Kitten on a wire.

I contentedly listen to quiet, old country. I edit my thesis, sitting in the shade by an open window, tucked in a corner, headphones on. My hands smell of the pear blossom lotion Margarita got me for Christmas, I still taste the orange juice I just finished. Jeremy's gone upstairs, but he kissed me before he left.

A quiet, lovely sort of happy.