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I think Alzheimer's is such a difficult thing because of the forgetfulness that comes along with it. It's not about the erratic piss; just grab a diaper, and you're good to go. But imagine, sharing an emotional breakdown with someone for like three hours one night. The next morning, you wake up feeling fantastic because you remember that there's been a great closure. The feeling doesn't last though, because you begin a new conservation with the said person and realize that whatever epiphany that must have happened the night before is nowhere to be found. There must have been something, right? There must have been. You tell yourself that time after time.

There's a fellow blogger on Xanga who's pretty much confirmed my fantasies in regard to what flight attendants do and the wonders of their work. Sharing the unbelievable view of the true sky that emerges when she's on a flight, drinking wine (alone, may I add) on a lonely night at an airport bar, having romantic, fiery affairs with gorgeous men, and telling stories of them with an air of elegance and composure -- it's just, everything I would imagine.

Don't call my name, don't call my name, Alejandro... I'm not your babe, I'm not your babe, Fernando...

I took two SAT Subject Tests this morning. Maybe it was just me, but I just felt really stared at the whole time. Do I look that old? I'm only a few years wiser at most! During the exam, I had major ADD muscle reactions (lol). I twisted my feet, curled my toes, and changed the position of my legs a million times, probably. I hardly have a decent attention span nowadays since everything became so chaotic.

Anyway, the real highlight was recognizing two people whom I run into ALL THE TIME. Okay, definitely exaggerating a bit, but these are people who most likely have completely different lifestyles than mine. I just thought it was pretty hilarious to bump into them on so many occasions. In fact, I was smirking half the time I was there. Hmm... maybe I got stared at for other reasons. Well, since I once knew them professionally and all, I hope they did well today (although... they're probably still sitting there). And oh yeah, I had to do all that for this application I'm filling out; so no, I'm not eager to relive high school.

Something about me seems to set people off, all the time. Is it my high self-esteem and positive outlook? Is it my pride in who I am and where I'm coming from? Is it my concern for the good and my ability to ward off the bad? Is it my steadfast belief in doing what's right no matter how much wrong is done to me? What is it, you low-life mu'erfuckers -- that you can't seem to leave me alone.

I can't just let you run up on me like that, all on me like that, yeah...

I find it fascinating to observe my big toe. The formation of pus, the pain, and the surrounding skin make me want to have a conversation with it and ask how it's doing. I'm so tempted to make a picture diary or something and just keep a photo journal of its progress. But that would be nasty, and even if it would serve as some sort of a memento, I wouldn't want to toy with my gag reflex every time I looked at it. And it's not like I can show it around to my friends: "Hey girls, come gather and I'll show you something silly." Lmao, that's so not me.