sweet, sweet resignation

Ahh. It's finally February, which means that in a mere three weeks or so I can stop counting birthdays, because the final milestone will be passed. I shall be 21 and there will be much drinking. Hurrah! Even though I'm already a borderline weekend alcoholic, this means that rather than drinking crap Bud Light (sorry, Bunnyman) all the time, I can have a nice, foamy Newcastle once in a while. Oh Newcastle, how I love thee, you most delicious and soothing of beers. Would only that the fountains flow eternally with your syrupy, foamy, alcohol-laden goodness...

This is all Meagunn wants for her birthday. 20 oz. singles, six-packs, 12 packs, and cases are all acceptable, depending on your level of financial well-being. Slips of paper reading "Gud 4 won Nookassel" are also okay, 'cause I know what it's like to be poor. And it really is the thought that counts.

In other news, this weekend was utter crap, aside from the fact that I got a new printer and got to cuddle a bit. In brief:

• Our neighbors are refinancing the house we live in and are now supposed to own.
• Due to this, I spent the entire weekend cleaning so that the insurance company would no longer deem the house a "fire hazard" and our conniving neighbors could get the thing insured.
• I was told by said neighbor that if this was not done, they would either condemn the house, call child protective services, or both. (This is a crock of shit.)
• We spent five hours watching our favorite (and most ancient) kitty die on our kitchen floor, helpless to do anything about it. RIP, Mama. You were a cool cat.
• Bunnyman did not make a resume like I asked him to. Will he wake up one morning and suddenly have a new job? I don't think so...

This was, of course, in conjunction with the normal money problems, schedule problems, and general lack of sleep. In light of this, I am not going to struggle to do my 300-odd pages of reading for tomorrow. Nietzsche would have approved. I explained it very succinctly today to Elena: "Nietzsche's philosophy boils down to 'Shit happens. Accept it, learn to manouvre around it, and you'll find peace. Oh, and Christianity is for morons, and the Germans suck.' "

Maybe I'll do my presentation on that next week.

None of that matters, though. I've got the one I love, and am immensly grateful for the life I portray as so crap sometimes. I don't know what I'd do without my Bunnyman, and I look forward to a long life of never finding that out. It's funny: we're engaged, and no one really realizes it, including us. Devoted mother and wife...I'm already there. Well, sorta. More like devoted offbeat mother who gives daughter tampons to make nunchakas from and holds family viewings of "Rocky Horror"; and bisexual stufty-sleeping noise-obsessed video game-playing japanophile geeky linguist wife.

Can't be too normal, can we?

Oh, and I'm now Local Planning Consultant for the national Young Women's Task Force (otherwise known as Y, WTF?). Ha. Go me.