I'm Alive (kind of)!

I feel like I haven't taken a breath in a week.

And you know, if you can't breathe, you can't blog.  Oxygen to the brain and etc.

Anyway.  I have yet to find the light at the end of the tunnel, so here's a really cute

picture of Oliver.  Because why not, really?

He adopted Alyssa's old couch after she moved in.  Sometimes he just piles all

of his toys and it and leers at me from across the room while he clutches his girraffe's throat

in his mouth.  Do you feel like thats something to worry about?

Eh.

Self Control.

I am, as we speak, battling the overwhelming desire to eat pie for breakfast.
Right now, at 6:30 AM.
First of all, I should not be awake right now.  Every day I think, "someday I'm going to wake up and be okay with this.  My body has to get used to it eventually."  But in the same way that my body will NOT go to bed before midnight, it cannot accept 6:30 in the morning. It is sick and wrong and 6:30 is for waking up, giving the conscious world the finger, and going right back to sleep.

Anyway, so I'm not eating pie.  I'm eating a granola bar.
I don't know why though.  I mean, I'm going to eat the pie.  There will be pie in my belly before this day is over.  So why can't I just eat it now, otherthanthefactI'dvomiteverywhere?  Who made these rules?

In an unrelated topic, it's week 5 of the semester and my mind has already slipped into "Who really needs a college education, anyway?  We're totally going to get blown to pieces before I get a chance to use it."

But I mean, really.

Intercepted.

Puppy Playdate.

We have had two couchsurfers in the last week, and I am feeling like a road trip. 

Which one of you is going to let me come visit?

A Surfer and a Festival.

I know, the "Surfer and..." posts are getting a little tired, but I mean, it's all I've got.
We could talk about school, because that started this week.
We could talk about how a prolonged drunken hookup who I've affectionately named Lavaca
(the town he's from) is in my Psychology class and how the next 16 Wednesday nights are going to be wildly awkward and I'd rather fail out of college (again) than have to sit through another three hour class with him.
We could talk about that, but I'm a little squirmy just thinking about it.
So we won't.

Instead, we'll talk about how we had another last minute couch surfer this weekend.
Another very cool dude.  He came up for Fort Smith's very first River Jam Fest.
The crowd was disappointing in size, but the bands really brought the place down. 

The thing is, I'm a little (very) drunk, so I'm just going to post some pictures,
curl up with my dog, watch The Land Before Time (God bless you, Netflix Instant Play),
and pass out.

I have the cutest dog/roommate ever.

Everyone nurses a hangover.  That's the surfer (Calvin) in the background.

Soaking up the beautiful weather at the riverfront.

Edward Washboard Hands.

Goodnight, folks.

Pointless.

Impossible to get a good family picture.

No, Oliver!  Look at the camera!

Defeated.  It's hard out there for a single dog-mom.

A Surfer and... A Lasagna.

I wish I was starting this post by apologizing for my absence, but:
"I've been climbing Mt. Everest!"
"I've been attending medical school!"
"I've been held captive by an outrageously good looking bunch of Portuguese men!"

But, you know, that's not the case.
What's really happened is that I've gotten this new roommate
(you all knew I couldn't handle living alone)
and we've been busy creating masterpieces in the kitchen.

Yeah, that's not true either.
But we made a lasagna!
And that is the truth!
Proof (photos brought to you via shitty iPhone camera):

Farmer's Market fresh veggies

Those Japanese love their phallic vegetables.  This is Japanese

eggplant.  Obviously we purchased them for really mature
culinary research purposes, and not because they look like Gonzo's

penis.

Wait for it..

Lasagna!

Then this weekend, there was this couchsurfer. 
We played Jenga.
Proof (brought to you by a real camera, but hey, I'm no photographer):

We're pretty certain that this was a record-breaking game of jenga.

Didn't bother to confirm that, but we're pretty sure, anyway.

The surfer (Matt) and the tower.

Building a "giraffe."

Jenga art.

Oh, and then there was Marcy Playground.

Right here in Fort Smith!

A whole night of 1995.  It was a glorious experience.

Proof (brought to you by Coors Light):

and to answer your question, it smelled just like Sex and Candy.

So, but, I've missed you guys dearly.

Let's never be apart again.

Oh, except that school starts back tomorrow and my life is officially over.

See you around Christmas, Blogpals.

                                               

A Surfer and a Flood.

It's been an interesting weekend, you guys.  Really more of an interesting 24 hours. 
The heavens opened up on Fort Smith yesterday and left me and my apartment very, very soggy.

Shitty iPhone picture.  But that's a vacuum.  Sucking water out of my living space.

The kitchen, downstairs bathroom and entryway were covered in about two inches of water.  We were able to keep it (mostly) off the carpet.  The maintenence men came by and said really helpful things like, "Damn.  That's a lot of water."  And then the man with the vacuum van came and saved my life.

But the excitement does not end there! I know!  More excitement? 
But how can I handle it?
Well, I am a professional excitement handler, that's how.

I hosted my first couch surfer yesterday.  He contacted me Friday afternoon and showed up at about six last night, when I was nearing the end of the flooding fiasco.  I was kind of nervous - there's always a risk of being ax murdered with this kind of program, I guess, but he turned out to be a super fun guy.  We took him downtown and drank a lot of beer and did a lot of singing and dancing and had a great time.  It was his first time to surf, so I'm glad that we both had good experiences.

The Surfer - Alex

Tony trying to teach Oliver self control.

But what I want to know, is how was your weekend?

It's a dog-eat-giraffe world out there, folks.

Dog Wins.