My Cup Runneth Over

"And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do?

And he answered, Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.

And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha." (2 Kings 6:15-17)

Kind notes, thoughtful emails, tasty treats, caring cards, countless phone calls, incessant availability, beautiful scarves, cheering countenances, big juicy apples, comforting and courage inducing words, Irish accents, exercise partners, pictures drawn, Mormon messages, many traveled miles, reassuring hugs, continuous support, endless prayers, and warm thoughts. I feel them, and they mean the world. My eyes are opened. You are the ministering angles. Thank you.

How does this happen?

These here crystal orbs are in actuality my contacts. Or were. I guess they still are, but they're not very functional anymore seeing as the one on the right has been hacked away at, missing large and slightly important chunks from the outer edge, sliced up like a slashed tire, and scratching gouges out of my eyeball. And also because they're now shriveled up in the basement of my trash can.

I can assure you, I have not razors on the inside of my eyelid, or mysterious bugs that thrive only on the shredding of contact lenses that live in my contact case, or little tiny men with little tiny scissors and favorite past times involving cutting edges off thin clear filaments inhabiting my house. I guess I can't tell you with 100% confidence, but I'm pretty sure I don't sleep walk into the bathroom with an exacto knife to carve away at the only thing that allows me to see with any kind of clarity, and I'd like to say I have good friends that generally don't sabotage my possessions that make my life more functional whilst I slumber. I'm pretty sure I blink like a normal person without any head banging or eyeball poking, and I have not been involved in any sort of eye karate chopping, razor blade throwing, or knife juggling action. Having all these accounted for, how else on earth does this possibly happen?

Aliens. Extra-terrestrials. It's the only explanation.

Negative Nancy

Whelp, it's been cute and fun and all, but I'm done pretending. I don't like dirty butter. I hate headaches. Dating is a drag. It annoys me when the toothpaste gets squeezed from the middle. Stubbing my toe makes me want to say bad words. Cold toilet seats ruin my life. Animals gross me out. I can't stand obnoxious PDA. Wet pant legs make me grumpy. I'm not looking forward to 2012. Most of all, I don't like grad school. Oh, and raisins are disgusting. There. I said it.

But I did just find a ticket to Dublin for $495. Now Ireland I like...