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bloodygranuaileI hurt: more than is probably necessary.
I love: ninjas? Hrm. A year ago, all my friends were pirates.
I hate: when people don't allow me to have my own opinions on things that are strictly a matter of taste, not morals.
I cry: over a boy. Because I fail at living up to my own principles.
I fear: that I'm really just completely and hopelessly insane.
I hope: that someday I'll deserve what I want, or maybe even get it.
I sadden: when I'm home alone in Jersey and it rains. Generally I like rain, but this is claustrophobic.
I feel alone: kind of randomly.
I kill: conversations? I'm so awkward. >.>
I talk: in French when I'm drunk.
I listen: to my friends, and expect them to do the same.
I break: the hearts of retarded nerd-boys who have never seen a girl before, apparently. Sometimes, I hate SPOC.
I see: lots and lots and lots of things.
I smell: things that aren't there, sometimes.
I taste: generally only things that are there. How boring.
I work: two jobs. For the summer, anyway.
I hold: onto the idea that I can make myself better.
I hide: some awkwardly non-accidental-looking scars. Although a lot of them are mostly faded, thank God.
I pray: ...no, I don't, really.
I walk: alone, every step I take... haha... Lindsay, I may never forgive you for introducing me to Tarja's SPECTACULARLY PROMISING new "solo career."
I drive: "the nigga-ass Kia."
I burn: anything that can afford to be sacrificed to the pretty pretty fire. Hee hee hee.
I breathe: kind of erratically, sometimes.
I play: too much Kingdom of Loathing? Haha...
I miss: my Clarkies!
I touch: anything with a pretty texture.
I learn: the hard way, usually.
I feel: a lot. Mood disorders + introspective writery temperament = ho boy.
I know: a lot of totally useless stuff.
I dream: anxious dreams.
I have: the best friends ever.
I want: to better myself.
I fall: down stairs, if I can't see them. I fail.
I wait: because it's easier than admitting some things will never happen.
I need: breakfast, right about now.
I live: in constant doubt of my perceptions.
So tired, and so busy. Senior week involved working a lot, not eating very well, not sleeping very much, cramming in as much social time as humanly possible, drinking too much, trying to block out the reality of all my friends graduation, and, as always seems to happen, making a few new friends RIGHT BEFORE THEY GRADUATE. Although Bridget is living with Liz next year, so she'll still be around. Packing up and moving out of the suite was emotionally draining; Liz and I stayed until the very last moment (we signed out at 11h45 on Monday... they start fining you at 12). Then had ridiculously long obnoxious set of buses to take to get my arse back to Jersey, which is SO MUCH FUN when your luggage is broken so it hits you in the leg every time you stop or change directions, and you have to wander all over the Port Authority. Have actual bruise from it, which might be the lamest way to get bruised ever. Did not really need a day like that sandwiched right between Clark graduation on Sunday and SCILS Rutgers graduation on Tuesday.
Clark ceremony classier than Rutgers, despite rain. Sorry, Mom. At any rate, my mother has a Master's now, which is much more important.
One of Clark's English professors died on graduation day. I didn't hear about it 'til probably around midnight, when Metal Adam wandered into the Ocho kitchen where we're all laughing and drinking and I'm in the middle of some wierd drunken bonding conversation with Laura about how we're really the same person and just goes "Hey, guys... uh... Napier's dead." I'd never met Napier, but I was shocked because he wasn't old and because my other friends talked about him so much, that even without having personally met him he was still a very colorful presence in my particular perception of the English department. Other than that, can only be really upset on behalf of friends. I don't know if Keen knows yet; he's in Luxembourg right now. I'm sure they must have told them. Unfortunately I can't call him because temporary overseas phone plans are prohibitively expensive... blar.
Am only home 'til Tuesday and have many people to see and much stuff to acquire/sort out for apartment. Getting a bit of a financial break in that we discovered that estimates for the difference between the apartment and staying in the dorms is $600/year, not $1300/year, and since the general principle upon which we are figuring out our budgeting is that I cover any and all expenses *above* what my parents would ordinarily have spent (and they paid the full amount for dorm housing these past two years), I get a $700 break in the amount of rent I'm expected to cover from our original budget. Sometimes it's nice to be wrong about things, especially since I have a rather expensive summer lined up (no more free karate until September! I are spoiled). Also have things to get for room and maybe kitchen, although have already gotten quite a bit of stuff from other people. And of course, I have friends to see here, not all that many but enough with the little amount of time I have. Really hope to see Kat. Hung out with Leah yesterday, as I didn't go to Paganfest (family obligations + short on cash + le tired...), but the Pat/Moody/Dan/Lindsay group is not so hard to get a hold of, so I'm sure I'll see them this weekend, if not tonight.
In the meantime, I'm going to take advantage of these few quiet hours before Mom gets back home and we need to go shopping to actually read... or maybe bake something... since I'm starting to get some energy back. It's nice to be in a house sometimes.
I love you all!
I love: ninjas? Hrm. A year ago, all my friends were pirates.
I hate: when people don't allow me to have my own opinions on things that are strictly a matter of taste, not morals.
I cry: over a boy. Because I fail at living up to my own principles.
I fear: that I'm really just completely and hopelessly insane.
I hope: that someday I'll deserve what I want, or maybe even get it.
I sadden: when I'm home alone in Jersey and it rains. Generally I like rain, but this is claustrophobic.
I feel alone: kind of randomly.
I kill: conversations? I'm so awkward. >.>
I talk: in French when I'm drunk.
I listen: to my friends, and expect them to do the same.
I break: the hearts of retarded nerd-boys who have never seen a girl before, apparently. Sometimes, I hate SPOC.
I see: lots and lots and lots of things.
I smell: things that aren't there, sometimes.
I taste: generally only things that are there. How boring.
I work: two jobs. For the summer, anyway.
I hold: onto the idea that I can make myself better.
I hide: some awkwardly non-accidental-looking scars. Although a lot of them are mostly faded, thank God.
I pray: ...no, I don't, really.
I walk: alone, every step I take... haha... Lindsay, I may never forgive you for introducing me to Tarja's SPECTACULARLY PROMISING new "solo career."
I drive: "the nigga-ass Kia."
I burn: anything that can afford to be sacrificed to the pretty pretty fire. Hee hee hee.
I breathe: kind of erratically, sometimes.
I play: too much Kingdom of Loathing? Haha...
I miss: my Clarkies!
I touch: anything with a pretty texture.
I learn: the hard way, usually.
I feel: a lot. Mood disorders + introspective writery temperament = ho boy.
I know: a lot of totally useless stuff.
I dream: anxious dreams.
I have: the best friends ever.
I want: to better myself.
I fall: down stairs, if I can't see them. I fail.
I wait: because it's easier than admitting some things will never happen.
I need: breakfast, right about now.
I live: in constant doubt of my perceptions.
So tired, and so busy. Senior week involved working a lot, not eating very well, not sleeping very much, cramming in as much social time as humanly possible, drinking too much, trying to block out the reality of all my friends graduation, and, as always seems to happen, making a few new friends RIGHT BEFORE THEY GRADUATE. Although Bridget is living with Liz next year, so she'll still be around. Packing up and moving out of the suite was emotionally draining; Liz and I stayed until the very last moment (we signed out at 11h45 on Monday... they start fining you at 12). Then had ridiculously long obnoxious set of buses to take to get my arse back to Jersey, which is SO MUCH FUN when your luggage is broken so it hits you in the leg every time you stop or change directions, and you have to wander all over the Port Authority. Have actual bruise from it, which might be the lamest way to get bruised ever. Did not really need a day like that sandwiched right between Clark graduation on Sunday and SCILS Rutgers graduation on Tuesday.
Clark ceremony classier than Rutgers, despite rain. Sorry, Mom. At any rate, my mother has a Master's now, which is much more important.
One of Clark's English professors died on graduation day. I didn't hear about it 'til probably around midnight, when Metal Adam wandered into the Ocho kitchen where we're all laughing and drinking and I'm in the middle of some wierd drunken bonding conversation with Laura about how we're really the same person and just goes "Hey, guys... uh... Napier's dead." I'd never met Napier, but I was shocked because he wasn't old and because my other friends talked about him so much, that even without having personally met him he was still a very colorful presence in my particular perception of the English department. Other than that, can only be really upset on behalf of friends. I don't know if Keen knows yet; he's in Luxembourg right now. I'm sure they must have told them. Unfortunately I can't call him because temporary overseas phone plans are prohibitively expensive... blar.
Am only home 'til Tuesday and have many people to see and much stuff to acquire/sort out for apartment. Getting a bit of a financial break in that we discovered that estimates for the difference between the apartment and staying in the dorms is $600/year, not $1300/year, and since the general principle upon which we are figuring out our budgeting is that I cover any and all expenses *above* what my parents would ordinarily have spent (and they paid the full amount for dorm housing these past two years), I get a $700 break in the amount of rent I'm expected to cover from our original budget. Sometimes it's nice to be wrong about things, especially since I have a rather expensive summer lined up (no more free karate until September! I are spoiled). Also have things to get for room and maybe kitchen, although have already gotten quite a bit of stuff from other people. And of course, I have friends to see here, not all that many but enough with the little amount of time I have. Really hope to see Kat. Hung out with Leah yesterday, as I didn't go to Paganfest (family obligations + short on cash + le tired...), but the Pat/Moody/Dan/Lindsay group is not so hard to get a hold of, so I'm sure I'll see them this weekend, if not tonight.
In the meantime, I'm going to take advantage of these few quiet hours before Mom gets back home and we need to go shopping to actually read... or maybe bake something... since I'm starting to get some energy back. It's nice to be in a house sometimes.
I love you all!
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:p
Date: 2008-05-22 06:33 pm (UTC)Re: :p
Date: 2008-05-22 09:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-22 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-22 09:07 pm (UTC)If they're pretty journals, maybe you could make a shelf out of them or something? Or some other artsy project?
no subject
Date: 2008-05-22 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-23 01:28 am (UTC)And yeah, I'm still really broken up about Napier. I stumbled across a former Clark student's blog today with pictures of Napier around Walden Pond. I found myself in tears. Although, some of his family members commented on him in the blog, so apparently they've found him. But still, his life felt so unfinished. There's a certain finality to death that cripples me in moments like this.