Today my parents are driving to Portland to take our collie (Eli) to a special veterinary hospital. He has damaged his lower spine (we don't know how, but it could be due to all of the rough-housing from our puppy Arwen), and vets in Eugene don't know how to help him. I hope that things will work out okay. My mom has a very special attachment to this dog, so I would hate to see anything happen to him. He's also a big sweetie, the sweetest dog we've ever owned. 

My class from UH is finally over. It was difficult towards the end, as the professor almost completely disappeared. It happens sometimes with online courses, and makes it hard to finish.

I am loving White Collar. My mom and I watched it together every night, and we are so attached to the characters at this point. She adores Neal, and I equally adore Peter. Such a fantastic dynamic between those two.

Often, I neglect to post. 

It isn't out of forgetfulness. I remember. Daily, I remember. 

Then I sit down, at this desk, staring at the blank computer screen. And the words stop. They flow through my brain and my heart, screaming, crying, dying to get out. Yet something stops my fingers. Some unseeable, unknowable force stops my fingers from typing, halts my heart's words from getting their relief. 

I was prescribed, by a new doctor, the anti-depressant Wellbutrin. This is not an SSRI, like Zoloft or Prozac. He calls it "a-typical" and says that even doctors and psychiatrists and pharmaceutical companies do not know exactly how it works or what it is capable of. But I trust him, and I trust this. 

I have been watching White Collar, a series on USA about the White Collar Crime division of the FBI. I like it because the characters are fun, interesting, and have a great dynamic. I am also a massive fan of Tim DeKay since Carnivale.