New

The travel blog was done. I'm not traveling anymore, I'm back to the usual life. The re-integration has been surprisingly easy. Mostly Spain seems like a dream. It's weird to talk to friends over the phone that I met in Spain and realize they still exist. It's also weird to find all of the ticket stubs, metro passes, receipts and other things I collected over there.

New Year's was a good night for me, though maybe it ended a little too early. My inebriation reached its maximum level by 1:30AM and then I gave in to sleep. We just went downtown for a couple of hours. The whole month of December had been increasingly intense in terms of partying and I vowed to reduce the debauchery after January 1. I think I've been good. I have self-control.

I spent the week in Austin. Mostly sleeping in every day, trying to accomplish at least one thing in the afternoon and then going out at night. It's break. I'm breaking. In a sad way I'm looking forward to school starting and having somewhat of a routine again. However, once it all picks up I'll wish for the lazy days. The grass is always greener...

Today I drifted down 290 at dusk toward Houston. Listening to Radiohead too loud in order to drown out my own cracking voice. Not fully paying attention to the road about 80% of the time. Thinking about the past, present and future. Cursing the men driving large pickup trucks constantly cutting people off.

As soon as I got home I went upstairs to check on my Baby gerbil. My mom told me the day before he seemed especially ill. I saw him laying on his side, which is not normal. Upon further inspection I noticed he was definitely dead. I called his name anyway. No movement. I could faintly see his little teeth in his open mouth and his scent gland tumor under his belly. My mom came home later and immediately asked about him. He'd been alive when she'd left hours earlier. She said, "Oh crap." I'd just missed seeing him alive one last time. It's no use thinking of what could have been. What is, is. Baby was probably my favorite. He was the baby of two of my other gerbils, easily the most healthy gerbil I've ever had. The most tame. The cutest! The most personality. (Gerbils do have personalities!) Baby lived a long life, more than 4 1/2 years. I'd just taken pictures of him because I was afraid he'd die. I asked my mom to take care of the body. I'm still not grown-up enough to do it myself. She brought him down in some plastic bags and sprinkled baking soda inside. I heard his little body thud in the garbage can outside. I didn't want to bury him because our dogs would likely dig him up. :( I'm looking for replacement gerbils now.

Even though I'm at my mom's house full of good food I made Ramen noodles. It was the best bowl of Ramen ever, except what is "Oriental flavor"? I don't think I understand. Sometimes Ramen is the answer for a grieving soul, I guess. My mom was watching Desperate Housewives as I ate the Ramen in the kitchen. I'm pretty sure that show is my biggest nightmare. Being a desperate housewife sounds so sad on so many levels.

I'm scared of tomorrow.