rien ne pèse tant
que un secret.

I decided to organize the disaster area that was my east wall. My bookshelves. At nine thirty at night.

Smart. Smart, Ria.

I couldn't really stop once I realized I might as well clean out the other disaster area that was my desk (I can't even put my laptop on it) because I was pulling papers, old notes and a couple of class catalogs from previous semesters from both areas. For fuck's sake. And then that turned into, I might as well remove all other stuff that's been on my bed that I've been sleeping with. It's now one in the morning and I've already taken a few breaks to creep a few people on FaceBook and a few breaks within those breaks to find something to drink in the kitchen.

In the process, I found a proverb book, my long lost sticky notes, credit card, keys, disposable cameras from the camping trip, the folder with all my receipts from my online transactions, my 1889 copy of Anna Karenina (I almost cried when I found it), my acceptance letter from Columbia, the cover of the book my mom gave me a month after I hightailed to the South (aptly titled How to Avoid Marrying a Jerk (Thanks, mom, I think I'll be fine.)) that I let Angie borrow, a couple of lotion bottles I thought I finished, seashells, a couple of menus, my old KRZR, a nasty ass apple core, my graduation tassels from high school, the Versace perfume that I kinda like but will probably never use, my tweezers, nail clippers, an old certificate that said I won something or other in the ceramic classes I haunted in high school (I made the coolest teapot you will ever see. And it's fully functional.), a little box with all the letters Jessie wrote me, a box with all the cards my dearest Britt sent me, shoelaces... I think I found Jimmy Hoffa in there, damn.

Anyway. I forgot to mention in my earlier entry that today was the Fall Fest Parade on Rose St. I got to see Leyden's Marching Band and Color Guard (all of my school's mascots were the Eagles. Save for the Bobcats (grade and middle school) and the Trojans (my first college). We couldn't even be cool been the Spartans. I mean... Trojans? I know about a billion jokes right off the top of my head. And they don't involve those awesome helmets they wore back then. I need to stop these parentheses.) I wanted to join when I was still a sophomore there. What a goof.

I think I'm going to creep people on FaceBook some more.

Yup. I should be a professional creeper.