Hello World.

I'm going to start blogging regularly again eventually, okay? Just give me some space goddamnit. I need some time to breathe.

. . .

Okay, in reality, I've become completely obsessed with Lost. Completely and utterly. So much so that it occupies my thoughts and dreams and I spend all my free time lurking around on websites like this to read pages upon pages of nerdly forums and this to read pages upon pages of theories (but staying away from the spoilers...I'm a good girl). I honestly don't think the madness in my head will rest until all the questions have been answered. Unfortunately, the official date for that actually occurring is May 23, 2010. Which, looking ahead, happens to be just 2 days before my 30th birthday. Good lord, how freaky is that?! Let's change the subject quickly...

Hey, you know what's cool? Digging through your wallet to find some cash for a double Americano and finding a forgotten Target gift card from Christmas. And then calling the 800 number on the back to check if there is a balance on it and finding out that there's $15 left on there! Woo hoo! So I bought some gum. And a body spray with matching shower gel (half off!). And some make-up wedges. And some lame-o Valentines in the event that I decide to be a good spirited and jovial co-worker on Thursday, as opposed to the more commonly spotted tired and cranky version. We'll see.

Speaking of: I text messaged Schmooblebuns at work today to see if he wanted to accompany me to Staples and Target after our wind ensemble rehearsal tonight. He responded "yes" but followed it by a "but you totally ruined my plan." And then I responded "what?" And then he said "I'll tell you later." Turns out he was planning on sneaking out and buying my Valentine's Day present after rehearsal. AWWWWWWWWW.

I honestly didn't think he was planning to get anything. Especially seeing as how most "holidays" of this nature have historically involved the both of us insisting that it is silly and that we shouldn't really plan on doing anything because it is a stupid made-up corporate creation, but then the actual day arrives and I observe all these girls getting flowers and freaking chocolates and teddy bears and two of my favorite guyfriends send me the cutest heart-shaped love notes telling me that they love me just as much as they love cheese but yet I get nothing from my freaking boyfriend and hours later I am found sitting in my car in the auditorium parking lot listening to the slow movement of the Dvorak Cello Concerto (Berlin Philharmonic with Yo-Yo Ma...yowza!) crying pitifully and feeling tragically sorry for myself right before orchestra rehearsal. True story. Anyway, repeat the similar scenario involving my passive-aggressive moping and Schmoobins' lack of ability to understand how the female mind works ("Of course I don't want you to get me anything on Valentine's Day. ...and by 'I don't want you to get me anything' I, of course, mean 'You better goddamn get me something or I will make your life a living hell.") a few more times throughout the first couple years of our relationship and you can see how dysfunctional the two of us can truly be with this kind of stuff.

In any case, knowing that he was planning on getting me something means perhaps all those damned Hallmark commercials with the talking stuffed animals have seeped into his skull? Wait, does this mean I'm going to be getting a talking stuffed animal on Thursday? Hm. It's the thought that counts, right? Especially if the thought is shiny and sparkly. Or delicious.

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UPDATE: Wait, does this mean I have to get him a gift before Thursday? Do girls traditionally buy gifts for their Schmoobles' on Valentine's Day? See how bad we are at this??