i'm not getting the responses i want

the other day all i really wanted, the only thing i wanted, was a milkshake. i put our blender together that way i thought it went together. it didn't go together that way. apparently. the milk fell out through the bottom, all over everything. i cried. wailed. i was hysterical. in front of all my housemates. i crumpled to the floor howling. over spilled milk. over everything, but really over spilled milk. no one knew what to do, and seeing everyone unsuccessfully trying to make things better made everything awful and hilarious...and awful.

now everything is up in the air because as far as i know, i only cry biannually (excepting instances in which i cry because of a book or movie). i already cried once on february 15th. it's only may. there are so many months to go.

the good news is that i took a clogging workshop. i texted this information to my dad in a weak attempt to bond or something. his response: "wow." anyway, i found a new passion.

the bad news is that today a collections agency called me about a bill i didn't know i had for my kidney stone last summer. fuck. i didn't even know. i ranted for a while to poor justin-who-answered-the-phone about our healthcare system and classist society. while i was on hold i started feeling a little guilty for taking my anger out on justin-who-answered-the-phone, since he probably doesn't have control over these things. so when he got back on the line i apologized. probably too much.

one of my favorite residents found out that i'm only 22 today. she freaked out. "whhhaaaaa? that's my daughter's age. i'm telling all my problems to someone my daughter's age!?"

friday there is a lady coming to seattle from india. apparently her hugs have spiritual healing powers. realizing how ridiculous this sounds, i really want a hug from her.