Thoughts written down at 2am while slightly. . .well really. . . intoxicated.

Yeah, so as the title says, I am somewhat intoxicated. As past evidence has shown, this doesn't really effect my grasp of the English language, so I figure I am fine. It might take me around twice as long to write what I want to, but oh well.

So, over the past week I have come to several conclusions. Here are a few of them. . .

1. My dogs lose almost all control of their bodily functions when my parents leave.

2. I need to interact with someone somewhere other than work at least once a day, or I go crazy.

3. The guys at work tend to ask a lot of really simple questions, which tends to get on one's nerves when he hasn't had much sleep.

4. I love who I love, and though I can't change that (or the way they feel), I can pretend to ignore it and focus my energy on interests that might prove more . . . profitable, successful, fulfilling, etc. in the end.

5. I have to go to Las Vegas at some point soon. . . and I might be accompanied by a co-worker. . . and in this case, I wouldn't really mind.

6. I make far more crude jokes while drunk than while sober.

7. When I know that I don't have to drive myself home, I am far more willing to drink and accept drinks.

8. I miss my real friends while I am sitting at home or at a local bar. . .

Yeah, number 8 is the most relevant at the moment.

Quotes to fill space. . .

If you had one phone call to make before you died, who would you call, what would you say, and why are you WAITING?

To this I say that I know who I would call and what I would say, but then again, it has all been said before, so it isn't like I am really waiting.

Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they have the power to change the world - Buddha

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” – Neil Gaiman