*sigh*

It's cold out here, all by my lonesome.

Hey suckers.

What's up?

How are your novels?
How are your girlfriends?
How are your boyfriends?
How is employment?
Did you eat much food for Bird Day?
I hope you at least ate some bird.
I was not home. I visited Boy.
I shall be home on December 15th, but probably much too late to do anything that day.
Also, I shall be tired.
But generally, we should get together.
Hang out.
Chillax.
Whatever.

TRAVIS.

The greatest man to ever live.

I hope you have a good day. And maybe get totally and utterly trashed.




Whatever. You know.

Love,
EYS

I'm a nerd.

This is the 4th night this week I've spent doing D&D stuff.

Also, I miss you guys.

Guess what?

I'm an old lady.

Life

It was here, it was wonderful, and it was short, but it was great.

Now it's over, it has gone, and I'm lost, so now I'll wait.

Last hurrah.

I will fucking miss Home Base.

Tim: I find it somehow perfect that you would sleep through my last visit.
Amanda: Have the best time ever with Nicole, please.
Mike: You're awesome, and I will miss you crazymuch.
Travis: You're awesome, and and I'm pretty fucking excited to get to know you better next time I'm in town.
Eric: Do you even frequent HB anymore? Just out of curiosity. And if you do: Hi.

My AIM, for those of you who may not have it and wish to AIM me like a madman: ElissaYvonne
My school e-mail, if you get the urge to send, because I check it like I'm OCD: elissaschufman_2009@depauw.edu
And as always, I will post on HB.

Love,

EYS

MAGIC:

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Best game ever.

http://muppets.go.com/games/muppets-flyinggonzo.html

So.

First:
Haircut!

Also. When are all of you not busy? I leave the 18th for school, which is a rapidly approaching twelve days away. I have D&D every evening the 10th through the 14th, and a few other commitments here and there, but I would like to see all of you at least once more.



Heartingly,

EYS

Disgust (utter).

My seven year old sister asked me yesterday, "How many calories do you think there are in a bowl of ramen?"

Let me repeat.

SEVEN.

To the point.

This is how I feel about my life as of late. Floor-sprawling self-pity is the only kind that manages to look artistic (with a little help from GIMP). It's also time consuming, so I think I shall endeavour to avoid it from now on.

My planner is rapidly accumulating massive amounts of activities for the rest of my short summer. I leave for school on August 18th, if anyone cares. I'd like to see you guys before then. And Travis--fucking be home when I come over! Everyone says you're badass awesome, but you're never around so I know diddly about you from personal experience.

Also, I need more fucking time. Take it any way you like.

Peace out.

For general reference purposes.

Invisible

But still, in the end, so very there. The last bastion of sensibility, still grasping the slipping firmaments of truth, lest they be lost to the void, along with the rest.

Quickly now, running, racing to beat the bounding fires, tearing at the heels of sanity.

All is not lost.

Because I can't write something new, I'll post something old.

Summarily:

I am born an amalgamation of the Midwest,
not like my brothers who are half Japanese, born
with a culture already inside of them.
I learn early how to shovel,
how to write,
how to deep fry anything I can get my hands on, anything that
was once alive.
At the age of eight, I am resigned to
cancer and at least two heart attacks.
At the house, I am never permitted to help with heavy lifting. My mother
talks a lot, says very little, and teaches me how to do the dishes. She
tries with futile effort to make me remember
where the cheese grater is stored. Even young, I understand that what
you buy and wear
represents you as
a person; I buy
glass bottles filled with sand and
fruit scented lotion and striped shirts and wallow in all of it.
Eventually my family stops supporting my rampant addiction to consumerism.
Years later, I get a job at a small office where the only thing
in the fridge was canned beer.

My first heartbreak, at the age of nine:
my mother says I have to say goodbye to all my
childhood friends, hug their cotton filled bodies one last
time.
Three can stay—I choose to save a white cat,
a blue tiger, and a husky.
I regret having to let the big pink rabbit die. I love him, and
cry to see him put in the trash with yesterday’s leftovers, and plastic
wrapping from my little brother’s newest toys, and too many
used coffee filters. Years later,
I grow up, and hate the smell of coffee until the day I die.

Unicorns are so much cooler

Really.

They are.

And that's all I have to say on the matter.

Still true.

I love Damien Rice.
I want to have his motherfucking babies.

I feel smart.

But you are all going to disagree.

Don't worry. I try hard not to hold it against anyone else. I am at work, and not really thinking to hard about much besides going home.

I enjoy my life there. I want to move on in certain areas. Move in different ways. Career. Life in general. I am in for a change again. Having Amanda live with me was a good change. She makes me feel complete. I just need to change other parts of me to make her and I more comfortable.

Home Base.

Hmm.

I can see where this is going.

Home Base Home.

I am back from Colorado. It was all in all really super depressing. My uncle Mark is holding up well, though. (It was his son who died.)

D&D was tonight. It was smashing. I am a pretty freaking good DM.

When do you get here, Amanda? Cause I have to make sure I see you as soon as possible. I am leaving town to visit boy for a while. I am at his house for just over a week, and then his extended family is all going on a camping trip for ten days and I am invited, so I am going. So a good chunk of my summer is going to disappear on that.

I miss home base. I shall be sure to stop by soon, assuming all of you are not busy out the wazoo. And that I am not busy either.

So. When are you buggers free for chillaxing?

7 Months

We win at relationships.