i’m so sad to finish the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. In fact, I may be finished with the book by the time this post goes live. You see, I’ve enjoyed reading it, but I’ve enjoyed reading about it even more. Each night, after I turned off the Kindle, I drift away to a world where I am Watson, and Sherlock and I are solving intricate mysteries. There’s such a sense of calm about them, though. They’re not troublesome mysteries.

I can’t remember what I dreamed about in the morning. I only recall the vague ambiance of the dreams themselves. I don’t even think we’ve solved a mystery yet, but my slumbertime travel to and travails in London is fantastic. I rarely have dreams that feel like interesting adventures rather than worrisome chases. My anxiety is no more lenient on me during my sleeping hours than it is during my waking ones.

I’m afraid to leave the world of Holmes and Watson when my eyes are open and when they’re closed. There is something about this world that I love so much, and it’s something due to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s writing. I’ve seen the movie. I’ve watched multiple shows (Elementary is turning out to be quite interesting!), but neither of them leave me quite so smitten and breathless.

I had no idea the effect the words on the screen would have on me. It’s so rare that I am so taken with anything or anyone. I think I may understand how Irene Adler felt to be Sherlocked.

I follow one person on Twitter who is outspokenly conservative. I’ve never met her or really talked to her, but it seemed like we had some other things in common. So many of my friends are young and liberal that I wouldn’t have suspected her of being anything else, but I decided that politics alone weren’t enough reason for me to not try to make her acquaintance/friendship. However, the recent political climate means she’s quite vocal. The interesting thing is that everything she says makes sense out of context, but we agree because we disagree in the grand scheme of things.

Let me give an example. Last night, she talked about how pride builds community but not jobs or money, which is true. It’s part of the same “hope does nothing” rhetoric that the right constantly spouts. It’s been especially loud since Obama’s 2008 campaign, and while his campaign doesn’t center around hope this time around, Obama certainly intends to make America hopeful.

Thus, the peanut gallery chimes in how hope and faith and belief doesn’t buy groceries or fill your car with gas or pay your bills. This is all technically true, I concede. However, it’s not the entire story. The left isn’t the only side asking us to have hope, they’re just asking us to have hope for the sake of hope. They just want us to have faith in the system.

The right, though? The right wants us to have hope that when we work hard everything else will fall into place. Hope that our work ethic is bigger and better than that of the same person gunning for the job, and that potential employers will see this and hire us. Faith that our work ethic will get us a promotion and keep us working when everyone around us in laid off. Belief that working hard will matter more than sudden illnesses, injuries or an economic recessions.

Because that pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps rhetoric is tired, and everyone who lives in the real world knows what it is to work hard. I know plenty of people who work hard, who work harder than I think they should have to, and they’re just getting by. Plenty of people work 40+ hours per week and they’re not getting by. They still need assistance. A plethora of people spend that much time alone trying to find work that isn’t out there, being turned down because they’re “overqualified” or some other silly reason.

The bottom line is: hard work alone sometimes isn’t enough, and policies that ask us to believe, to hope, to have faith that it is are policies I cannot stand behind. They’re not realistic, and I can’t believe anyone who doesn’t see these platforms for what they are. Yes, Obama and the liberals are asking me to have hope, but they’re not asking me to have blind faith. The platform asks me to have hope for a brighter future based on my hard work and the support of my government. To me, that just makes sense. It’s the only realistic path I can take as a voter.

I hope that 47% and then some agree with me when the polls open.

The last time I wrote a post talking about how I’d gotten drunk the night before, it wasn’t so happy. It’s different this time. Friday was my best friend’s birthday and she asked if  I wanted to go out after she finished work. I figured it would be fun and had no better plans, anyway, so we headed to a bar with her husband to meet her cousin. For some reason, probably an empty stomach, my drinks really hit me and I was soon feeling the alcohol. I had no more than two shots and two mixed drinks, but they did me in.

However, I was with friends, so instead of freaking out, I was laughing  bubbly and silly. I entertained everyone and was entertain myself. It was really the first time that drinking was any fun, and it was all an accident. It made me want to go out and drink with friends again. Perhaps I just hadn’t been with the right people before. Unfortunately, several of my friends are now pregnant. What’s up with that?

The night produced some quotes that seemed funny at the time. You can tell me if they’re still funny.

I’d be a dick, too, if my vagina was full of sand.

I’m trying to add ‘fucked’ but it’s hard.

I feel all wibbly wobbly. Will David Tennant have sex with me?

I have to pee. Don’t eat my cheese.

If you disappeared for a week or a month or even a few hours, I’d notice. Not everyone would, but those who notice do so with a fierceness that hopefully makes up for it.

I would notice because I see when you’re gone for a few hours. I notice when you don’t reply in the first five seconds. I notice when your life is busy. I notice when you’re quieter than usual, but I just assume you’d come to me if you needed to. I’m sorry if that’s what you need. I’ll be more vocal if you need me to.

I may be busy, but I remember when we haven’t talked for a few days. I note the absence in my life. Sometimes, even when I’m busy with someone else, I stop to miss you. You’re not there. We’ve never met, but there’s still a hole in my heart.

I know it’s not much. I don’t know if it’s enough, but I hope so because I would notice not because I am amazing but because you are.

When it came down to choosing an apartment, and there were only two decent options, I didn’t like this one at first. Location seemed to be a dealbreaker. It seemed so far out o the way from, well, everything. The first apartment I liked was literally just a block away from the grocery store and Walgreens, which is a big selling point. The neighborhood seemed to be altogether nicer, too. However, I’m finding some pretty awesome upsides to this neighborhood:

• It’s older, so there’s a lot of neat architecture
• There’s a gas station within walking distance, and I’m close to everything that’s downtown
• I’m within walking distance from Mom’s house and my uncle’s, too
• There’s lots of alleys and parking lot shortcuts
• Trees! When you’re crossing the bridge to this side of town, all you see is a hill full of trees!

Although the neighborhood is kind of sketchy not too far away, I’ve had no problems living in this very neighborhood. In fact, it hasn’t been as bad as I’d expected; although, some of the neighbors in this building are effing rude. I’ve really enjoyed walking to and from Mom’s. I take some of the same roads as I did when I was walking to school as a teen because I’m only three blocks from the house where we lived during those years. It’s a trip.

I walked to the store that’s near the other apartment the other day. I realized that the neighborhood over there isn’t really any better, and it’s not quite as enjoyable. I get to take these winding walks now, across bridges and over train tracks, and it’s all just very enjoyable.

I guess that one word sums up how it is to live on my own, now.