when i get mail sent to my parent's house...

Forever is it opened by them (which they KNOW is not allowed!), and forever do they forget to tell me... (and forever will I get it sent there because I have lost way too much mail getting it sent anywhere but... srsly).

I just found out, while stumbling around (oops), that I got a package in the mail today.

(Okay, so here, I digress to excessive rambling, because I'm allowed to, as it's my fucking blog:)

I got strangely excited--I thought it was whatever this thing was that Greg was having sent to my parent's house for me--it was a late birthday/x-mas present--and more than getting it, I wanted to know what it was. See, Greg sucked at getting me things, or even doing things that'd be meaningful or thoughtful (for anyone)--so I wanted to know what it was, I wanted to know if he 'knew' me any better (after two years). I don't mean any of that in a bad way. Whatever bitterness or enmity we/I have/had towards each other/him, this was/is a real curiosity of mine. (I wish I could frame that sentence and send it to Mollie.)

I think when we were breaking up, he told me he still wanted me to keep it--and I told him I'd throw it the fuck away (so, it ended on a sour note)--so, I'm guessing for his monetary sake, he cancelled it, (because he actually thought I would?), and it still hasn't come, and I didn't really expect it to. It's just... the end of something. I really wanted to know what it was and now I'll never know--YOU HATE TO SEE THAT.

Anyway (and back on topic), my mom, who I love, actually told me I got a package earlier in the day--but I didn't know what she was talking about, because, like her pronunciation of "cAWn-RrRraD?" (Conrad), she had told me something about something about "Rame-e-esy-bye-Rrr." And I didn't pay attention (I think she said something about Chicago, so I should've known--had I been paying attention).

I msgd Ramsey a bit ago because I don't have a credit card/bank account at the moment, and couldn't get this last issue of her zine off Microcosm without (the other stuff I had Jake buy for me, but didn't have enough cash at the time to get the zine too--boo). Ramsey makes a zine called "list," which I 'found out about' when Jimi and I went to RVA two or something summers ago (and when I met one of the most amazing girls of my life--but that's a different story). We slept on the couch/floor of their house (it says 'Welcome Punx!' on the porch above the couch, I think).

This preface was all to say--I got it in the mail, and it's called 'Moving On,' and, you know, it's about moving on. But before I finish this post: my sink came in!