Maggots and Tofu

It's lame but I was really looking forward to getting back to my computer. I got home and it was all effed up. WTF? It's still acting screwy, and that pisses me off.

The Boy told me he cleaned the house because it was a mess before I came home. I'm confused as to what exactly his definition of "cleaning" is. Either he thinks swiping down countertops with a sponge - while leaving coffee rings on all the tables - is cleaning, or I'm the most anal girl on earth. Sometimes I think I should have done the Freudian thing and found somebody just like my father. If anybody knows what clean is, it's my dad. This house is not clean! Are you crazy?

The Boy did, however, tell me that he went to change the vacuum bag and it was crawling with maggots. I'm willing to do all the cleaning for the next few months in order to avoid the maggots. I am so glad he was the one to have discovered them, because although I am great with most insects (spiders, bees, etc), the two creatures in this world that creep me out the most are maggots and rats. Well, cockroaches and maggots are sort of on the same level for me, with rats just a wee bit higher on the freak-me-out scale.

I've got my short- and long-term goals semi-mapped out in my head, which is a relief. I had a bit of an anxiety attack about it all this morning when I woke up in the middle of the night (4 a.m. ish - what is that? morning or night?) because of jet-lag. Hours later, I can't remember what I was freaking out about, but at the time, the fear felt quite real. Luckily, my sister was online and we IMed a bit about my boyfriend (that's really Shawn Crawford's body, and I don't care how much I insist that I don't like big, muscly guys, if Mr Crawford were to shave his 'stache and ask me out to dinner, I would not turn him down) and then all was right with the world.

I'm reading Anna Karenina right now, because people say it's one of those books that everyone should read. I mentioned to Kathypath that Tolstoy is a little heavy on the details, and she said, "That's Russian authors for you. You can skim, sometimes." I took that as a green light and now the book is going much faster. I'm almost three hundred pages in and Levin is still brewing over Kitty, and unfortunately the Oprah's Book Club already informed me that they're getting married at some point (no, I didn't join the club! Jesus! It was just a bookmark that came with the book, and that's how I found out that September 2, Oprah's Book Club will be discussing the novel. I should be done by then, but I won't be discussing jack).

Meanwhile, I am making myself write two pages per day of what will be my best-selling piece of shit book. If it ever does get published, I'll have to do it under a fake name so that nobody makes the link between me and that horribly raunchy story. But Lordy, Lordy, is it fun to write.

Yoga starts next week. I bought some tofu. I have my linguistics classes schedule. The environmentally-safe laundry detergent was bought and will be used tomorrow and my clothes will smell lemon-fresh. I am enrolling in Spanish this week and Arabic next week. I have some Indian recipes I am anxious to try out. I'm busy prepping letters to send to some publishers. I'm signing up for the GRE, and eventually will start preparing for it. And I still have to go see Farenheit 9/11.

It feels good to be back. I miss my family, but I like getting on with my projects, too. First up, I have to clean this damn house.