Actual Status Updates #4

Holly finds she feels far less lonely when she can be completely alone without interruption.
Holly is overwhelmed by sadness and wonder and anticipation and knowing that relief is so close only makes it more intense.
Holly knows she is being unnecessarily obtuse and that this is an act of cowardess.
Holly misses normal sleep.
Holly is harder on herself in this blog than she is in general. She kicked ass today. Huge ass.

Full Circle

Going to see Tegan and Sara at the Music Box tomorrow with Braden and Caleb and Jason. Almost exactly one year later. More prestigious venue--four sold out nights. What a difference a year has made--for you lovely ladies and for me. Am I right, girls? Good job. I like to think your success is still based on the strength of that last album and not the Grey's Anatomy factor.

I never did post my pictures. Goddamn iPhoto. I will defeat you this time with mobile uploads.

More actual Status Updates

Holly talks to herself out loud. A lot. Oops.
Holly's infected tooth has been hollowed out and so has Holly.
Holly's tooth antibiotics make her poop a lot, which seems medically backwards.
Holly is having a "Crying on the floor of the shower until she's basted in pruny self-martyrdom" kind of day.
Holly is wearing "Pirate of Death" socks under her boots. They were a gift from her brother, who thinks she likes ridiculous socks. She does.

What my Facebook Status Updates should actually have read over the last several days

Holly is barely keeping it together, folks!
Holly knows she shouldn't keep checking, but it's so hard not to.
Holly thinks her ass looks pretty good in jeans these days but goddamn this fucking cellulite.
Holly is prone to getting lost in the lyrics in new and different ways.
Holly's cat agrees that she is a fucking saint, but they both realize it's a joke.
Holly is mustering everything she has to not take one for the team on this one.
Holly is getting older, and therefore knows a little more about knowing nothing at all.
Holly needs to make time to write.
Holly can't focus, so please lower your expectations for the foreseeable future.
Holly wishes.
Holly keeps thinking about that Gauguin painting of Jacob wrestling with the angel. Is it Gauguin or Cezanne?
Holly checked wikipedia. It's Gauguin. Somehow she forgot about all the Mennonite women in the forground. Are they Mennonite?
Holly googled "Jacob wrestling the angel Gauguin". They are Breton women.
Holly wants to run and run and run but sooner or later her hip will give out, so she should probably go to work.
Holly is tired of being her own planetary system at work. A planetary system without sunlight because she doesn't rank high enough for an office with an exterior window.
Holly wonders why letting go of something painful always hurts more than the pain itself?
Holly can't help feeling a twinge of satisfaction about skipping two meals today even though she knows everything that is wrong with this.
Holly is vamping like crazy behind closed teeth. Mental jazz hands. Sleight of mind.
Holly is a salamander.

Holly needs more of you in her life. You, reading this. Yes, you.

Holly could have done more to help that dog this morning.