Sunday, November 11, 2007

games that never amount to more than they're meant will play themselves out

Ugh. If I didn't know what was happening last time I updated, I most certainly do know know now.

On Wednesday I drank over at Jared and Shannon's and got pretty drunk, I'd say. I don't remember going back into Shannon's room with him, but I did. And I don't remember what I said to start the conversation, but I do remember crying and I do remember him saying that he doesn't want a relationship, that he just can't (I think he said because he is a senior)be in one right now. I kept putting my cowboy boots on and he would look up at me from the bed and say, "Where are you going, Lauren?" "I don't know," I would reply, and then put them back down.

But somehow I spent the night. I skipped my two morning classes and we lay in bed. And for someone who had seemed to be rejecting me hours before, he was very sweet. He kept saying things. Let's list.

"You're so, so pretty."
"You are too cute, too cute for your own good."
"I love snuggling with you."
"Your skin is so smooth."
"Can we please just lay here forvever?"

On Friday we watched The Spanish Apartment together and played Taiko Drum Master before going to bed--together. It was as if nothing had changed, although now it was quite obvious that he wanted me on a sexual level, too. It's difficut to explain, but every now and then he would grab me tightly and my body would respond to press up against his and his hand would go briefly up the back of my shirt and almost desperately trace over my skin, his face buried in my neck. These moments tended to be short but pretty blatant in nature.

In the morning we held each other. We were allegedly going to be going camping with Jared and Anna and Kirby later, but we just lay there sweetly.

Then: "I don't think we can do this anymore."


"I think you have an idea."

"I don't. So tell me."

"[beat] Jessica is supposed to be coming down for New Year's."


"And I... want her to."


Frankly I'm shocked, impressed, that I did not burst into tears. I just nodded. Repeatedly. As if I was not surprised... I suppose I wasn't?

"If you keep spending the night, Lauren, I... I have to hold you. I want to hold you. Obviously I like it when you stay with me. I just don't know if it's for the best."

How did I even find words? I will never know.

"Well... did you ever think, don't you think, that it says something, that you want that?"

"I want what is the best for us both."

?? What does that even mean? Silence ensued as my mind raced. Mostly it raced with lyrics, it raced with irony, and it raced with a desperate hope to find a loophole, anything.

Lyrics won.

"Okay, Shannon. That's... just give me one more night. We're supposed to go camping. Just give me tonight and then, then we'll just... have conversations I guess."

This all happened around 11:30. You would think he would kick me out of bed? Think again. At 1:00 we were still lying together. It was as if he was afraid to let me out of his bed, as if, if he stopped holding me, I would slip away and never return. Which is odd, you see, since he had told me hours before that that was exactly what he thought needed to happen.

When Jared assigned us a couple of tasks, we lingered still. Finally, Shannon asked, "Do you want to go camping or lay here for the rest of the day?"

This is not the sort of question a person who wishes to no longer lay with someone would ask.

"Can't we lay there, camping?"

"You're right." And he got up and took a shower.

Then we finished Jared's errands with time to spare. Coming back into the apartment, I said, "we could still be asleep."

"Yes." And he took my hand and led me back to bed where we instantaneously curled up together again as if this Jessica character had ceased to exist.

As if all of that is not confusing enough? Camping happened.

At first it made sense. He seemed to be spending most of his time with Jared, but then when we were setting up tents he claimed one as "ours" and helped me set it up. Sitting by the campfire he lay on a rock with his head in my lap. When Kirby and Jared and I smoked, he linked arms with me and gave me water when I coughed. We crept into our own tent later and changed clothes right in front of each other (he's pretty shy about this sort of thing, to the point of usually wearing jeans to bed when I am there-although this week he started wearing shorts). I had on two jackets over a t-shirt and a pair of his pajama pants. We curled up.

Now I am not going to lie. I had been wanting to have sex with him pretty much all week. More than my attraction to him, I think it would be liberating. Also, if I don't get to fall asleep with him anymore, I think I deserve it. So who knows, perhaps I was playing it up (but I was a tad stoned, so that seems highly unlikely). But it was getting hot in that tent beneath his comforter. I took off each jacket seperately, but the moment that I took off the last one and was just in a t-shirt and the pajama pants, it was like he sort of lunged for me. I mean, literally. I lay down and suddenly he was VERY MUCH THERE, grabbing me and turning me sort of so that those integral parts of our bodies were saying very intimate hellos to each other. He was no longer shy about lifting my shirt in the back to stroke my skin, and he was nuzzling my neck.

[to be con]

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

how can I confess when I know not what I am doing?

1. Austin broke up with me on 9/21.
2. He lets a petite redhead named Gina sleep in his bed, and they kiss and things.
3. I've been upset about it for over a month.
4. I lost so much weight I need new pants.
5. He said he might come back.
6. On Saturday he said he was holding her in bed and thinking only of me.
7. On Friday night I spent the night in Shannon's bed. There was kissing and touching. Drunk.
8. On Saturday I spent the night with Shannon again. Tipsy.
9. And on Sunday. Sober.
10. Shannon visisted a serious girlfriend over fall break, less than a month ago.
11. I don't know if they are still together.
12. Austin doesn't know where I've been sleeping.

And I, I don't know what I'm doing, although I think this is what college was sort of supposed to be about.

I liked sleeping in Shannon's bed, off-campus at the apartment he shares with Jared. I didn't care about the loud trains because I like how he holds me, I like how we talked for 6 hours in the dead of night and did not get sexual, I like how he kissed my cheek or my head or even my hand whenever he woke up before going back to sleep.

But I'm not going to lie, I also liked each time our bodies became entwined and he leaned down and began to kiss me. I like that I didn't feel sick (while drunk or sober), and that I wasn't imagining Austin, just how nice his fingertips felt on the back of my neck and that it would have been nice if he had unzipped my dress.

It hurts Blake, who had a thing for Shannon, that I spent the night, that something may be evolving between the two of us.

I don't know what's evolving. It's not about sex, and he hasn't tried to hide me. He came up behind me and put his arms around me while I did dishes at Hollis' apartment and last night we walked around campus at night to look at the trees and he slipped his arm around me.

Scene: Jared and Shannon's apartment.
[the sound of a train can be heard]
Jared: Kirbey said she was coming. I guess she got lost.
Shannon: Or run over by the train.
Me: I bet that was it.
Shannon: You should go save her, Jared.
Jared: I think Kirbey can handle it.
[Kirbey arrives 20 minutes later]
Jared: You didn't get hit by the train. Good.

---1 hour later---

[I realize I left the cheese in my dorm and run to campus to get it and back, getting trapped by another train going by]
[I text Jared: "I got run over by a train."]
[Arriving at the apartment complex, Shannon opens the door and waves]
Shannon: Did you get run over?
Jared: [sort of pulling me aside] Shannon actually peeked outside to see if you were.
Me: Oh, no, I managed to survive.

--2 hours later, I am leaving with Hollis to go back to campus and drive to UCA---

Me: I should be going.
Shannon: You're walking back? Do you have enough time?
Me: Unless I get hit by another train.
Shannon: NO! [He grabs me around the waist and holds on tightly].

So that was all today. I mean, he is not hiding his attraction, that's for damn sure. We certainly have a "thing." I just don't know what.

And then there's Austin. Who doesn't want me... at this time? But we spend some time together and he texts me each night before bed.

Like I said.
I don't know what I'm doing.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

your mind is racing like a pro now, oh my god it doesn't mean that much to you

ACL was this weekend, and what was amazing was:
-chicken flautas
-The Arcade Fire taping
-The National

So it was a good time, because all of those cancel out the shitty things:
-too hot
-bitchy girls before Regina Spektor
-not meeting The Decemberists
-feet dying during Andrew Bird

I do regret not staying in the front row to see Ghostland Observatory, because I had no fun at their show at Stubb's.

Meanwhile back at Hendrix I have so much effing work to do. And I need to work off A LOT this week, and who knows what my weekends have in store because I do not think that my friend group is going to survive. Bleh.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

when your mind's made up, no point in trying to fight it

Things to Do:

-quit sucking thumb, for good
-paint picture frames black
-stop spending money
-call Hollis
-clean room

Things that Will Actually Happen:

-read more of The Shoebox Project
-wait around for Sam to want to RP Sage/Geore, go to bed disappointed and too late at night
-absently suck thumb while reading RP journals
-spend money on clothes

I hate being at home now, after my dog almost died but then didn't and now has a hole in her neck like smokers who have smoked too much and can't breathe properly through their mouths anymore. Now that all the furniture is covered in sheets so that the goo from the hole doesn't get on anything valuable, and now that someone has to be at home at all times to make sure the dog doesn't scratch the hole. I hate being at home now because I hated thinking my dog was inevitably being put to sleep and having already mourned it's like I spent that night wrapped up in grief for no reason and someday I'll have to do it all over again.

I hate money, I hate mirrors, I hate "mostly sunny" days, and I hate monotony and other things that start with the letter m, and even things that don't.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk

I've been thinking of a few things lately:

My parents have money. My father makes quite a bit and then gets a large bonus at the end of the year. FAFSA laughed at my application for financial aid, I am almost positive. Ben used to hold it against me that my father has money, and that I was not completely on my own to pay for things. Sure I was buying my own clothes, but when it came down to it my dad would still offer me money whenever I said I was going "out." Four years later I don't have to pay for my auto-insurance, my car's upkeep, or my gas. I don't have to pay for any of my college expenses, including but not limited to tuition, textbooks, laptop, or even dormitory furnishings. Sometimes I feel guilty about this. I shouldn't. I am not a spoiled rich girl. I don't get money whenever I ask for it, and I do have a job. I pay for my own clothes, food, and entertainment. That's still something.

I need to write more. I don't remember the last time I wrote a poem, and I haven't attempted to write anything other than fanfiction in months. This is a problem. I've been asked repeatedly by co-workers and customers alike what I plan to do for a living with my degree in English and I always tell them that I want to be a college professor eventually and also write. I think I'd like writing for a magazine, or something. Really I just want to set up a nice fluffy armchair in academia and hang out there sipping my tea and reading classic literature for the rest of my life. What are the odds of that happening? I think we all know that I want to work at a bookstore too much for it to actually ever occur.

In other news I have started reading Crime and Punishment but I don't think I like it. It's a bit stressful, and I cannot relate to any of the characters even the slightest, which makes it very difficult for me to care what happens to them in the course of the novel. I honestly wish I could just abandon reading it and move on to Mansfield Park but I told Joseph, amazing literary boy I desperately wish to be friends with, that I'd read it and so now I must.

Speaking of things I must do, I really must get the mail. My parents are out of town this weekend (right before I go with Austin to DisneyWorld) and I am left to take over the household chores--namely retreiving the mail and letting the dog outside every five hours if not less.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

heart on my sleeve, not where it should be

I am actually pathetic.

potionskeeper: I don't mean to be a bother, and I realize I'm probably really pushing it, but I don't really want to be myself anymore today and wondered if you'd do me the honor of some--any, it doesn't have to be sage and george it could be literally anyone-- pretending.

And why, really? When it comes down to it, why today do I want so badly to be someone else? Because I'm not who I want to be. I want to be naturally pretentious and health-oriented and thin and wealthy. I want to be able to say no to ice cream and to go to bed early and love silly indie films.

I fear I like french fries too much and that nothing ever meets my expectations. It's unfair that I have my body and my money supply, and if I wasn't pathetic five minutes ago at the beginning of this entry, aren't I now that Sam has yet to reply to my desperate plea for roleplaying?

I've got to get back to Hendrix where at least I'm too busy for this nonsense.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

you're right, there's probably no point to my life--thank you for bringing it up

Why is it that I have chosen this moment to update my blog? I don't even know. I'm watching About a Boy and wishing it would rain outside. Woo...

Bonnaroo was a disaster. Austin and I actually gave up and came home after one day. Go figure. I was an idiot to decide to go--I mean, I dislike camping and drug-filled environments. I was seriously just walking right into that one. Someone would usually stop me and remind me that I hate that sort of thing, but no one did. I regret it a lot. Not the leaving, but the going in the first place. Because now I have to imagine what would've happened if I'd stayed. Should've never gone at all.

I've got the job at Coldwater Creek, which I love. It's difficult to explain. I can't decide if the other workers there take me seriously or not, and I can't decide if I want them to. I like being treated like an equal to people who aren't my age. I get paid $8.25/hr. ...I guess that sums it up?

...I'm getting distracted by the movie.

I don't know how I feel about things. I want to go back to school, to take class. I think that's all I'm good at. Taking classes. I'm not even really that good at it. It's just that I need some intellectual stimulation.

I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

I've finally gotten my booklists for my classes. I really wish I could teach. I really wish I could teach at Hogwarts. I wish I could GO to Hogwarts.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

tell me is this fair

I guess I ought to update this more often, but it never crosses my mind.

All of my club activites are done (by "all" I mean lit-mag). We register for classes this week and I am thinking of this:

Sem One
Jane Austen
Readings in Ancient Greek Literature
Literary Analysis
Plato and Aristotle

Sem Two
Post Modern and Contemporary American Literature
Sports, Leisure, Escape

The Jane Austen course is a senior seminar and will be next to impossible for me to get into. I know the professor, and I think she finds me intelligent and a good writer, but that won't matter when it comes down to seniors needing their seminar credits and me only being a sophomore whose major is not yet officially declared (I mean obviously we all know I am an English major and have been since I was 5, but it is not on my transcript yet). Hendrix has a bid-point system, and you collect bid-points by taking classes. You can bid your bid-points to get into a class, but I have so few that unless no one else bids at all, I won't get in off of those. This seminar won't be repeated while I am still at Hendrix, either.

So tomorrow morning I find out which classes I am taking for real, when I talk to my asshole advisor in the art department. I emailed him to ask if there was a specific time I should come by and he replied with

"There is a sign-up sheet on my office door..."

As if I am in the Art Building every day of my life? How was I supposed to know that? And anyway, the Art Building is not even on campus really, so he could have jusr saved me an extra trip and told me when he was available. He was sitting right by the list. What an asshole. If he tries to put me in Calculus again I will scream.

Classes really are all I am concerned with right now. Excited and terrified. Sophomores get screwed all the time at Hendrix, and with the shitty freshman year I had academically, that is the last thing that needs to happen.

But Anna and Katie and Hollis and Leah and I are going to Hot Springs this weekend, so that is something to look forward to. Less than a month of classes left, too, and I think only half of my finals will be difficult.

Then I come home!
And see Ben Gibbard, and Voxtrot, and BONNAROO.

It is skirt weather, too. (Aka hard to do work.)

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Father McKenzie, writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear. No one comes near.

Sorry! I guess I haven't updated in a while, but I guess I thought people stopped reading this! Well, Fi did not. I dedicate this act of my updating to Fi.

I didn't go to winter formal, and opted to stay in my room reading the story (Beatles fanfic) instead. That may sound lame to you, but I was just not looking forward to hip-hop and people grinding when I had no one to dance with. It would have taken some alcohol to make that a joyful experience, and when that is the case it is best to just not go.

Anna and I decided to take an hour each week and do a radio show. It is called Po-Mo Tea Party, and really it is just going to be us listening to indie-rock, and maybe talking about it. Maybe also other indie things like web comics, shows, and The Science of Sleep.

This is Anna:
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Thia is me:
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Anyway, Anna and I have been hanging out a lot. We stole each other's music on Saturday and we go to the library regularly to steal their music, too. (Why does the Conway public library have indie music and good movies? Just a thought.)

Besides the radio show, I also emailed the softball coach yesterday about maybe playing next season, and she got really excited and begged me to call her so I did and it turns out they really need some players NOW (as in, THIS FRIDAY)--especially a first baseman-- and so I am meeting with her today to discuss maybe joining the team? I was so excited about this prospect that it took me ages to fall asleep.

Meanwhile, there is also Bonnaroo. I downloaded a lot of music by Bonnaroo artists, and right now my favorites are:
-The Hold Steady
-Lily Allen (reminds me of a female, British Mat Kearney)
-Cold War Kids (also seeing them with Anna in Little Rock after spring break)
-Apollo Sunshine

I like everyone I downloaded so far (except Girl Talk), and seriously how could I pass up Damien Rice, The Decemberists, and Franz Ferdinand in the same place? (And The National, Wilco, The Police, etc etc etc).

Also I have classes. My Ethics professor keeps calling me a communist because of those newsie hats I wear ("Are you reading The Communist Manifesto?" "No, Aspects of the Novel by E.M. Forster." "That's communist, too!"). My Chaucer professor likes the sound of her own voice too much (to the point of turning a discussion class into a boring lecture) and I have yet to learn anything that Ms. Jeffery didn't already teach us in 10th grade (I miss her). I never pay attention in that class and I was still the only person to get an A on our in-class essay exam.

So that about sums it up for now. I am really satisfied with my social life here, and mostly with my academics, it's just that sometimes I feel like there just isn't enough time. Also I wish I could go to more shows (The Shins, Ratatat, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah).

Monday, February 05, 2007

when the dog slides underneath a train, there's no cry, no use to searching for what mutts remain

School is stressing me out. When I say that, I mean it in the most oh-holy-shit-I-can't-handle-this way possible.

My Ethics and Medicine class' grading system is terrifying. I am under the impression that if I don't get 100s on every assignment, I will end up at a C in the class because there are only 100 points possible for the whole class, and everything is worth some points. So, you fail a quiz, that's 3 points off your final average. Then you do so/so on a chapter summary, that's 1 point off. It adds up quickly. Also I haven't gotten any assignments back yet, so I have NO IDEA how I am doing, which is killing me and making me work monumentally harder because I have to assume the worst. Also, it is an ethics class. I am reading essays and participating in discussions that challenge my views on abortion, selling human organs, marriage, feminism and God only knows what else (religion), and I am starting to lose track of who I am. If that sounds like an exaggeration to you, please believe me when I say it isn't. I really am losing myself out here.

Ancient Greek is the most difficult language to learn. And it's a dead one. When it was my only real class that required work last semester, that was fine. I had all the time in the world to study extracurricularly, days before quizzes and weeks before tests. And I did. For fun, even. I made flashcards and practiced them with Austin over the phone every night, and did my translations the day before they were due. But I have three other very real classes this semester. And now we have a quiz every Tuesday and a test every Wednesday, and long, difficult translations in between. I do not have the time to study days in advance anymore. I make flashcards the morning of the vocab quizzes, I memorize verb forms instead of eating lunch on Wednesdays. I've stopped trying to make sense of the passages because it's so difficult I burst into tears, and have started just translating word for word, the verb in whatever tense I feel like, without changing the word order at all. As in: "quickly running was clever the Persians ordered Xerxes by hills through ocean." Obviously that's not right, but I can't take the time and painstaking effort to recognize obscure verb and noun forms, or tell the difference between participles or infinitives--a lot of times they both end in the letter that makes the "n" noise! On Friday I got all my translated sentences wrong because I fucked up the word order even though I thought they were right. I freaked out and started tearing up during class and afterwards ran to the bathroom and cried for 15 minutes.

My Plants and Human Affairs class is mostly tedious. Read a boring chapter, take notes. Come to class, take lecture notes on something we read about over a week earlier. The professor goes on tangents--write Three Musketeers fanfiction. Then we had our first quiz and it was not on what she said it would be. Oh fuck. Then she misses two out of three classes last week due to her daughters being sick and the snow, and says, here, do this review for the quiz grade you would've earned on Friday. A quiz is about ten fill in the blank questions long with 2 bonuses, so I don't look at the review till Sunday afternoon before my litmag meeting and it is 4 pages long, covering shit we have not read yet, and each question is about 5 questions in itself; "define this" "discuss this" "explain how this" "summarize this" "draw label and define this" ETC ETC. If you know me well, you know I freak out when asked to draw something. In 7th grade I was asked to draw the crawfish I had dissected and I told her I couldn't draw. She thought I meant I didn't want to, but really I just couldn't. I burst into tears and refused to draw it. That is how I am with drawing. It gives me nervous breakdowns when I am forced to do it for a grade. So this review asks me to draw something at least three times per four pages, and I am totally losing it. I just can't handle it. This is not a good sign of things to come.

Then there is Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, which is no work at all at this time. Read like two pages for homework. Listen to professor drone on and on during class--maybe get called on to read in Middle English. Middle English--that's the thing. I did not sign up for a foreign language. I signed up for literature. So a fifth of my grade being based on proper pronunciation (did I mention she doesn't even follow the "rules" of the pronunciation) is just crazy. Whenever I go in the room I get nervous that I will pronounce "lippes" wrong or something and then fail the class as a result.

Not to mention that I am up at 7am 4 out of 5 week days. I am short on sleep, on time, on patience, on sanity, on anything. I am hanging by a thread.

So, I am sorry if I am short with anyone. I am constantly in a terrified for my future, if I don't do well I am probably going to explode, everyone is out to get me, and oh by the way I am in an ethics class that is making me wonder who the hell I am and lose my identity... type of mood. I am freaked out, stressed out, bursting into tears randomly and inconsolably.

Of course, add to this all of the scary social aspects of college and having a long distance relationship, and I feel like I am really just screwed.

Oh, won't you do me the favor, man,
Of a giving mind,
A polymorphing opinion here,
And your vague outline,

I'll find myself another burning gate,
A pretty face, a vague idea I can't relate,
And this is get what you get for pulling pins,
Out of the hole,
Inside the hole you're in,

It's like I'm pressed on the handle bars,
Of a blind man's bike,
No straws to grab, just the rushing wind,
On the rolling mind.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

everybody cares, everybody understands

Well I don't know. My classes are extremely difficult and it is taking all the time I have just to do my homework and get enough sleep to function during the day. Actually, I take that back. All my classes besides Plants and Human Affairs are difficult. That class is just tedious and has a lot of tedious work to go with it. Also it could turn difficult at any moment, which makes it harder than if it were actually hard.

Hollis and I have become fast friends. I have also become friends with her friends (who are all homosexual, seriously). In addition I've been spending time with Booth's friends who live in the Front Street apartments across the street from campus (who aren't all homosexual). Lauren and Laura are still their own little group that I wish I could be in, but c'est la vie.

I'm still too unattractive, but maybe if I keep reading books it will be okay.

It snowed today, a lot. More than I've ever seen it actually snow in my whole life. I would post pictures but I guess everyone has a facebook now, don't they?

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

january brings april showers

It is so cold. We have ice, but since campus is only a block long and everyone lives so close to (if not on) it, classes have not been cancelled. I have an 8:10 class and I didn't think I would survive the walk there, it was so cold. How do people keep warm? I should just buy a bodysuit.

So I have a new roommate. Her name is Hollis and I like her a lot. She's a sophomore, and a bit of a hippie, also a lesbian. She is super-friendly, and we have a similar taste in music and people. (As in, the people she wants to get to know are the same people I wished to befriend last semester).

Things seem to be looking up. On Friday I'm going to Memphis with Laura, Lauren, Blake, and a guy named Sean to see Of Montreal and eat bbq. On Saturday Hollis and I are having an underwear tea party where you must be wearing some type of underwear visibly (over pants or whatnot is acceptable) to be admitted. We're thinking about moving the furniture around if it's possible.

There are distinct opportunities, I think. Cause enough to be optimistic, at least.

Monday, January 15, 2007

time is marching on, and time, is still marching on

I walked to Wal-Mart and bought groceries. Because Conway has no sidewalks, I also turned my black Converse into mud clomps.

The rumor from the first floor RA of Couch who was in my Classical Mythology class last semester is that my new roomate will be moving in tomorrow and that she is a sophomore. Adam told me she is a crazy hippie, though a nice one.

I am nearly done with The Vicomte de Braggelone. My list of books to read remains long, but I am progressing through it quickly, which delights me. Naturally, I haven't read a contemporary novel since Juno and Juliet.

There is a litmag meeting tonight, and I begin class tomorrow. I took a shower this morning and found it is still uncomfortable to wear flip flops while bathing. I am still at war with the air conditioning unit, as well. No sooner do I begin to sweat and turn off the heat that I begin to shiver uncontrollably.

I'm not really glad to be back at all.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

"Yes" is my favorite answer.

It's official. I am back at Hendrix. (This is made official by my using the restroom next to my dorm room.)

Kim, my [pseudo-evil, at times] roomate, moved out. She's gone! And I have no idea if they will stick someone else in her place here, but at least for tonight I have the room to myself! This means I can talk to Austin on the phone however late I want, and listen to music when I go to sleep. Yessss.

It is raining like crazy here in Conway, and campus is underwater. That's ok--I like rain.

At dinner I ate a salad without dressing. I feel like that deserves a five pound reduction of my fat immediately.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

homesick 'cause I no longer know where home is

I love The Kings of Convenience. Let me just say that for the past month I don't think I've really listened to anybody else besides them and The Decemberists, who we already know I love a lot.

I feel like everyone else is having these epiphanies or actual experiences in college, and I am not. Both Stephen and Megan have changed their ideas of what they want to do with their lives, and Alex has been questioning hers. Clara has her own radio show. I just can't think of anything romantic that came out of my semester, and because I expect nothing different, I am extremely reluctant to return on the 14th.

I don't want to return to roomate problems and public restrooms and no letters and awkward phone calls. I especially don't want to return to those things without having done so many of the things I wanted to over the break. Where is Amelia? Or Mary or Paul? I barely saw Amalia. I have hardly spent time with Robert and Alex and Stephen. I hope I see Ariane and Lily. From what I've heard I probably won't see Coco, and she's changed so much I may not want to.

I wish Hendrix and Southwestern or St. Edward's would magically switch. I hate not being in Austin but I know I would hate being at UT even more.