A Phillip Seymour Hoffman love story.

Ok. I realize, as I have stated time and time again, that I am the only female alive willing to admit that I find Phillip Seymour Hoffman remotely attractive. This isn’t an actor with a fan site full of screensavers and wallpaper and gushing comments. But I can’t help it. I love him. And now he has an OSCAR, so back off!!!

Oh, Phillip (can I call you Phil?), when did my affections begin? Maybe it was when you played that junkie on the 1991 episode of Law and Order. Or maybe you won my heart when you tried to bring father and son together in Magnolia. In any case, State and Main and Empire Falls pretty much sealed it. Sure, they say you’re chubby and unattractive, but I say you’re portly and endearing. If you ever get lonely, just call the peacegrrl.

Alrighty, enough of that. Last night was the annual pg oscar party, and hilarity certainly ensued. I annoyed everyone during the montages with my endless proclamations of “I’ve seen that! It’s good!”, and was even more obnoxious when all of my oscar predictions came true. But my friends endured all of it, and seriously cheered me up after a depressing weekend. I’m so relieved that the semester is half over, and that ACPA and Spring Break are just around the corner. And that I’m only on duty on more time this month–my weekend was total hell. I am not exaggerating–I was up both nights until 4am dealing with alcohol abuse in some form (including some girl-on-girl fighting in one of the halls!), and my pager went off so many times that the battery literally died. Blah! At least it’s over and I survived. It’s a new week, and I vow to keep my pissiness to a minimum. Maybe I’ll give up pessimism for Lent?
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Piss.

Well, the euphoria of last Wednesday has definitely given way to serious nastiness. Everything fell apart the next day–the mean parents returned. Work started to suck again. And then, to add insult to injury, my dog died. Today my continued lack of sleep (I wasn’t allowed to take a sleeping pill last night thanks to duty), along with an uncool run-in with this mean crazy woman in one of my classes, led to a total breakdown. I walked into my apartment at five today, quietly proceeded to the bedroom, and absolutely dissolved into a pile of tears. It wasn’t pretty–you know, that snotty-hiccupy kind of crying that is best reserved for privacy. You know how they say grief knocks you on your ass when you least expect it? Well, I think I got my ass-knocking today. After mopping up what was left of my face, I of course had to pull myself together and arrive at the office for an evening of meetings, which has been fun. I’m sure everyone can see that my face looks like a pillow that has been punched in, but thank goodness they’ve kindly refrained from mentioning it. That’s one good thing about a 24-hour a day job…you can’t completely fall apart. You can short-circuit in episodes, but then you need to slap on some concealer and march back into the office to deal with everybody else’s life. And I’m glad, truly I am. I can’t lose it if I never have a chance to.

Really, I’m ok. Everything is just backing up on me. I hope that once I get home and see my family I’ll pull myself together. I hate the drama. I hate feeling like I’m the one to whom all the shitty, quirky stuff happens. And I hate the guilt that comes with feeling like this while knowing how small and inconsequential my little problems really are. I want to wallow, but I’m no good at it. My life doesn’t suck bad enough for wallowing. It’s just a little rough around the edges at the moment, that’s all.

Believe it or not, when I logged into Blogger I was planning to do a rambling post about Philip Seymour Hoffman before I got distracted by how crappy I’m feeling. Did you know that there are no good fan sites about him? Am I the only one in the world who thinks he’s adorable? More on that later, though, because my office hours are up and it’s time to put on a happy face for my 10pm staff meeting. Seriously, this job doesn’t leave nearly enough time for whining.