...err...

...yeah.

I need to go call my mother. I'm going to leave this window here while I try (again) to find pants and make the damned call.

- much later... or, actually, about 20 minutes later -

I still can't find my pants. ANY of them. I own a good 6-8 pairs of pants, possibly more, and the ones I can find are: one pair of too-small snakeskin partially-slick leggings; one pair of Pirate Pants that are very dirty; one pair of black pants that I took with me to Gresham and which are dirty; one bodysuit that is in no way going to fit properly. To find these I have gone through three bins of clothing, dropping bins on my foot twice, falling down repeatedly, and generally getting rather foul-tempered. I am currently wearing a wine-red semi-velvet bedrobe that zips up as it's the most complete outfit I could find that is CLEAN, that FITS, etc.

My mother didn't answer the phone. It's a cell phone with a Portland-local number. It rang something like 12 times before the answering system kicked in. I left a message pointing out that I am indeed trying to return her call and that not to know where her cell phone was during my usual Waking Hours when she was expecting a call from me, make that DEMANDING a call from me, was really silly. Ok, actually I didn't add that last part but OH I wish I had.

Geh.

So I'm going to be getting Ryan to drag out ALL the bins, one at a time, so I can go through them. After which he will put them ALL back, leaving me with one bin in which to keep my most-needed things, pants and underwear and nightgowns, that stuff.

Grr made homemade bread and there is no way I can actually resist eating a slice while it's still warm. *sighs* So far I'm making a poor show of this dieting thing, but I'm slowly getting there. I know perfectly well that the odds of me managing to stick to a diet 100% (or even close) right from the start aren't worth betting on. I also know that dammit, I'm going to do my best. *sighs*

Also, apparently I'm giving up drinking for a while. Completely. Yep, I am a nonalcoholic Jax for a while. I think I might be having problems either digesting or processing or something-ing the stuff so until I get my body straightened back out (so to speak) no more drinking. Again. *wry grin*

I know I'm going to end up playing more snowboarding-game. Yeah, sad. *rolls her eyes*

...I really don't feel like I'm writing everything here lately. That sounds odd but I think it actually came out right. There's a lot of emotion and worry and Stuff that I've been trying to find words for since... gods, since before Thanksgiving easily, possibly earlier. I really need to figure out why it is that I can't quite get myself to write so openly - I don't LIKE being unable to express myself, at least here in my Very Own Journal. Meh. I'm going to stock a playlist and go back to playing music-free snowboarding, my own music in the background. Err, not MINE, unfortunately, but you know what I mean.