This was my log of some of my favorite episodes of The X-Files. Of course, there are a bunch more that I really enjoyed, but didn't include. Since I've finished watching the series (but haven't seen the movies yet), I decided to open this post to the public. It was just for me so I could remember episodes I'd want to rewatch.

( Take a look, if you want. )

Just a quick update about some going ons that I hope to expand on when I have time. I don't know if I will expand on them, but we'll see.

1. ashley_west is here and it's fucking epic and awesome and we watched House together on Monday!!

2. I love my psychology teacher.

3. Saw the Broadway show, Next To Normal. Fucking awesome.

4. My mom got the job at the hospital so she will have a job at the end of the year. :o)

5. I need to go to bed.

Today has been pretty craptastic.

Also, somehow wanting to work on my Senior Project other than copying and pasting what I'm keeping from one final draft document to another turned into watching Lea Salonga videos on YouTube, then watching little kids sing a bunch of songs, and then playing 20 Questions online.

I don't know how this happened. Haha.

My birthday weekend made me realize that I have awesome family and friends that I probably don't deserve. True fucking facts.

I got cards and presents mailed to me, a shit ton of facebook wall posts, posts over at LJ and the best fucking surprise EVER.

My fucking WIFE, my bestie, my Addison-Gilly-Rachel, fucking came to visit me. Marisa talked to Lauren who talked to Pat and they contacted her to get up here and surprise me. I fucking CRIED I was so shocked and happy and it was the awesomest surprise ever.

We hung out, played drinking games, talked, chilled, watched some Cops, ate Chinese. Fuck. It was awesome.

And today, I went out to dinner for my birthday and Lauren baked a cake and it's just been the best birthday in a long time. I was expecting to just go out to eat on my birthday and have cake, that's all. I wasn't expecting such an awesome weekend with lovely friends. They are way too good to me.

Also, The X-Files: I Want To Believe was on HBO on Saturday. And I wasn't going to watch it because I usually don't like to watch movies after I have seen them unless I love them or it's been a while, but I got roped in. I love the fucking scratchy beard part. It helped make my birthday weekend better. Plus, House was fucking epic tonight.

*content sigh*

I am seriously lucky to have such wonderful people in my life.

I had a test today in the retarded class (Intro. to Environmental Science) and it was awful. I studied four times longer than I had the first test and I worry I've done worse on this one. His questions suck.

It's a freshman course so we have to use Scantron and nearly half the questions contained the shitty little "E" answer of "all of the above." Fucking hate that. And I swear most of the time, it was that answer. I hate when teachers say "I'm not trying to trick you on the questions." Yes, you are.

ANYWAY, I took the test and got out of there. It's been raining...

I've got to write my scene for Sally's class tomorrow, I want to work on my pilot for Eddie, and also one of my fics and I've been punching out some shit with Down to the Bone. I have lots of time to work though because I just have one class later and there's no television shows I watch tonight.

Also, I think I fucked up my neck. I'm pretty sure I did it in my sleep on Sunday night, but through the car ride back to Purchase, it didn't hurt. But when I got back, it started hurting. I can't turn my head too much in either direction and it takes forever to find a way to sleep because it hurts. I'm hoping it goes away by the weekend.

While I was home this weekend, I found out that my mom will be losing her job by the end of the year. One of the hospitals that had been buying everything out back home bought the place my mom works at and now they want to close it. It just sucks because I feel bad for my mom and those that work with her and for the patients too.

I'm listening to A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack and will get on with the writing.

I need more Van Morrison in my iTunes. KTHANKS.

"It never should have happened in the first place. I should have... I should have never said anything. I should have left it alone."

"But you did say something and you can’t take that back."


I bet tonight would be more eventful if I were to go out drinking. But I don't have the heart. I want to write, but it's been a slow process.

I feel like crap. And kinda crazy.

I blame it on the fact that Purchase has been providing my apartment building with water high in bacteria that apparently a filter doesn't help. I don't know how long I've been drinking this shitty water. Hell, it could have been from the beginning of the semester.


There's something wrong. I just haven't figured out what it is yet.

I felt like a bad Catholic. Much to the same effect that I felt like a bad granddaughter. What is four hours out of a month to devote to church? What is eight hours a month to devote to a grandmother?

I'd give myself tons of guilt over church. I rarely payed attention. My imagination wouldn't let me. I'd think about so many different things, play scenarios in my head. During stations on Fridays when I was in elementary school, we'd get these prayer books with pictures in them. I'd assign myself, my family, or my friends to each child depicted in the book, making up stories about them.

I didn't like going to church. It was early and I hated getting up early. In the summer, it was way too hot and you'd end up sweating all mass.

Alter serving helped. It gave me something to do. I paid attention a bit more, but I still would think about a ton of other things during mass. I felt bad about it, but I couldn't help it. Hell, my mind even wanders when I read sometimes. Usually it's when I'm reading boring shit for school, but still.

As I got older, I was no longer an alter server since my church closed. My priest left before our church closed and I was so mad that he left. He was there when my grandfather died. He put his arm around me and told me comforting words that I've long forgotten. And then he left.

Our new priest was old and awful. He was boring and he smoked and I'm sure he drank. Eventually, the funds weren't there and our church closed.

I was already at a critical stage and now we were at a new church where I didn't know anyone. I knew the people at my old church, mostly by face, and they knew me as their alter server. I grew more distracted in church to the point where I only mumbled when the congregation was to speak and I refused to sing anymore.

Eventually, Brian and I began our days of driving around for an hour instead of going to church. We were always worried that Mrs. Buckman might say something to Mom about not seeing us anymore, but we really didn't care that much.

Without church, I was fine. My grandma still thinks I go. At least, I'm sure she's talked herself into believing I still go. I don't know what to believe and I still have a missal music book that I took from the church when they were replacing them. It has songs in it that I still sing sometimes, especially when I feel terrible. I guess it's more of a comfort from childhood than anything.

I'm not quite sure why I decided to write this. I was listing to Cheno's version of "What Child Is This" and it made me think of church.

I wish I was a better Catholic. I want to go back maybe, to visit or something. But I don't know if I can. I don't know if there's a point. I don't even know what I believe. I really don't think there's a life after death and I'm not so sure about a God. So... I don't know what it'll mean to go back.

I wish I went home this weekend.

Most of today was spent with a headache and tiredness. It was also accompanied by minor cramps.

In Psych class a few weeks ago, we were talking about the origins in love between mother and child, or even caretaker and child.

One of the points my professor made was that even if a baby was raised by the Wicked Witch of the West, the child would still love her. Maybe in the future, they would realize that love would come with cruelty and such, but there would still be love there. At least from child to parent.

That concept kind of blew me away. I mean, there are always stories about children attached to abusers and may not speak against them. Or even though they are hurt by their caretakes, they still love them and want to protect them even if they are not protected.

It just... thinking of the Wicked Witch of the West as a mother, outside of Wicked, the book and musical, but even just as her, as who she is in the movie even... how a child could change her... or not. Or the child who would love her anyway. I don't know. I wonder who the Wicked Witch loved before she grew up... when she was still just a child.

I've had many interesting dreams last night with family in them, some Purchase people, Maureen, strange apartments, learning a play, a swimming pool... random stuff. But, I also had this sort of scary dream that really hit me because I felt it SO fucking much.

I was pregnant and I just went into the hospital to have the baby. Something was wrong, so they had to deliver by C—Section. When they got the baby out, he wasn't crying. I was panicked because something was wrong and then he started crying, but they whisked him out of the room.

Later, I'm finally able to hold my son. I carry him out of the room, showing him off to a few people in the hallway. It's late at night, after hours, and mostly quiet. When I look back down at him, his eyes, which were open and searching, are now closed and he isn't moving, isn't breathing.

I start screaming for nurses or doctors or anyone. I keep shouting "Help, my baby isn't breathing, help me" as I run to the empty nurse's station. A male nurse comes out and he takes my baby and sets him on the desk. He unwraps the blankets and lifts up his clothes, something to do with warming the skin with contact or something, but I don't know.

I'm hysterical and crying and I can't breathe and all I can do is watch because I can't actually do anything. Another nurse comes over and my baby's breathing again. The male nurse takes him off to the NICU and tells me it'll be a little rough, but he should pull through.

The female nurse asks if I'm okay and I somehow manage to mutter 'I'm fine,' but I'm shaking inside and out and the room looks all funny and I feel I may pass out because I still can't breathe right, so I tell her I'm just going to sit down a moment and I sit in an uncomfortable looking brown chair next to a row of empty ones.

She says something that sounds sympathetic, but I don't really hear her. Later in the dream, I'm back home, but my baby's in the hospital still. When I visit my family on my dad's side, they ask about the baby and I tell them he stopped breathing in my arms and almost died.

I'm still pretty freaked because it was scary and hurt so much and I couldn't talk about what happened with anyone because it just made me start to cry.

Saturday Open Jam Session in Alumni is the stupidest idea ever. If I wanted to listen to music, I'd put in my iTunes. If I wanted it to be loud and obnoxious, I'd go to a fucking concert.

Fuck this shit.

(404): i hope kanye doesn't show up to patrick swayze's funeral. " i'll let you get back to your funeral in a minute...but michael jackson had the best death of the year. just sayinnn ".

Ah ha. Ah ha ha.

http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/

I want to scream.

I woke up this morning and had to walk through the rain to go to the most pointless class of my college career. I didn't mind the rain so much really. However, class was SO boring and we were talking about decomposition and then I started thinking about death and we ALL know what happens when I think about death. And I thought about how the class was pointless because eventually I'll be dead and none of this would have mattered.

After that tirade of shit, I went back to my roots and listened to Rent while missing my brother because I'll always connect him with that. Then, there was some Aida and then to class.

While in my Childhood Psychology class, we watched a video of kids' reactions to September 11th. Then we talked about disasters and grief and how to deal with them when it comes to children. As that went on, I pondered about my childhood and wondered how it affected me and how I basically fucked myself up.

I have this terrible fear being alone. Not, like, without a mate, but being by myself. And it's not bad during the day and fuck, I like being alone, but at nighttime, my imagination or sounds scare the shit out me and I get really upset and may freak out.

I was trying to figure out where this fear came from and so far, my best guess was that I was alone a lot as a child. I was a latch-key kid and so my parents were never home after school. Besides that, I was scared of things and never had the reassurance. Plus, I followed the JonBenet Ramsey case when I was just a kid and also was obsessed with the Princess Diana death. I spent hours watching her funeral on TV. Likewise, after September 11th, I came home to an empty house and watched the towers burn on television by myself.

And so maybe being alone as a child has made me scared to be alone now. I guess I never felt a sense of safety in some way or projected other anxieties into that fear and that's why this is how it is.

I walked back from class confused and feeling even worse only to find out my friend's father died in a plane crash today.

Fuck.

Every seventh of the month, I donate to The Liz Logelin Foundation for Seven On The Seventh. This charity was created in the honor of Liz Logelin by her husband, Matt. Liz passed away a day after giving birth to precious Madeline. Matt received lots of help from family, friends, and strangers as he blogged about his wife and raising their daughter alone. In Liz's honor, he created the charity to help other people that found themselves in his tragic circumstance.

Over at christiecookies.com, they're giving away money to the most voted charities. We're trying to help The Liz Logelin foundation to receive some much deserved cash (not that others don't deserve it as well). You can vote by simply clicking on the charity in the scroll bar and submitting your name and email address to validate you're you and not a bot.

It's all for the Love of Liz.


EDIT: Just wanted to thank everyone who has voted so far. The Liz Logelin Foundation has jumped to the number one spot, but it could always use more votes to keep it there if anyone still wants to vote (or use more than one email address)! Thank you, guys, so so much. It's appreciated more than you know.

I went to the doctor today and they used the jaws of life to keep my vaj open to look at my cervix. Then they took two pieces from it. It was uncomfortable and painful. I thought it might subside after a while. It didn't.

It still hurts to sit down. And it hurts to bend over to pick something up.

Right after the doctor, I had to go into work. It wasn't too bad, but I'm tired and it feels sore and like there's a constant pressure. I hope it's gone by tomorrow.

And I have to wait at least a week for the biopsy results.

Ugh.

Had a dream where Jimmy Kimmel was taking me out on a date. And I was a little upset because I would be missing Chelsea Lately, but then he ended up taking me to the taping. And in my dream, I wanted to update my twitter about it.

Also, had a dream where I was friends with a little Gregory House and a little Lisa Cuddy. And I gave my shoes to these people in a store who were being annoying. And then I walked out. Little Greg House came to find me. He joined me on this hill where there were two girls playing with darts.

And then little Lisa Cuddy came over and people where shouting at her to bring a pan back as they were trying to play a game with it. But she wanted to see if I was okay because she had been in the store with me. She gave me money and I gave her all but twenty dollars back because that was how much I left in the store, but she wanted me to have more to buy new shoes. I hugged her and told her I loved her.

Then, little Greg had this dinosaur pet thing that he called a lizard. But this one guy didn't believe him so the "lizard" emitted this smoke that put him to sleep and Greg told him that they would fight with the all the girls because it didn't affect girls.

Weird. O.o

Really, any way you look at it, I lose.

And I'll have to wait, like, three more weeks to maybe know the truth.

When I think it's one thing, I end up thinking it may be another.

And I really hope it isn't my fault for being an idiot.

I just want to watch The X-Files and cry.

And I don't want to talk about it. Because I'm afraid of the words that'll come out of my mouth. And I don't want to admit what's going on if it ends up being my fault for being a stupid fuck.

I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next few weeks. I hate waiting.

I feel sick.