I need to write something today…

…but what?

It’s going to be small random musings today.

How much shit can happen in one week? First Robin, now this. All of this long-distance shit. I hope this week will be less weird.

Facebook is a lifeline right now, it’s keeping me connected to so many people at home. Which is something I really need right now.

I keep meaning to do the readings, and not doing them. This is problematic.

I miss last year. I miss Rhymation, and Scattergories. I miss the theatre department.

I think the best way to start the morning is in bed, with homemade biscotti and a mug of King Cole tea. Delicious, peaceful, awesome.

Also, I miss the quadrilateral, from last spring. K., you know what I mean.

conversation

truth/revision/decision

I’ve written things that were true at the time that are no longer true.
I won’t go back and change them, because when I wrote them they were true.
I’ve written things that I thought were true at the time, that turned out not to be true.
I’ve written to figure out the truth.
I’ve written to conceal the truth.
No revisions on the basis of truth. I can revise in a writer-ly craft way, and do – but if I changed things because they were no longer true, I wouldn’t have any time for new writing.
And some things just can’t be revised.
“Technicalities”? Rewriting it to reflect the present would likely mean scrapping it entirely. (Due to the fact that we’re dating and suchforth.) But the whole concept of revising to reflect the now is incredibly flawed, because that was somewhat of a… snapshot, I suppose… of my mental state at that point in time, and how I feel now doesn’t actually change how I felt then.

And this is all true.

. . . there are no words.

My life right now is indescribable.  Parts of it are wonderful, parts of it are falling apart.

I choreographed and danced a solo for the school dance concert.  I was really proud of how it turned out and so many people told me they loved it.

A friend asked me to be in a music video that she’ll be making for a class.

I’m going to Québec City on Friday, which I love.

I’ve heard from 5 out of the 12 schools I applied to, and got into all 5.

There were multiple pictures of me in the art show, which was kinda cool.

I did less than a wonderful job in all of my classes this past mod.

My room is still a mess, and my memory continues to be somewhat terrible.

And my romantic life is increasingly complicated and confusing.

. . .

I desperately want to go yarn-shopping.  I need to knit.

. . .

What would I do if I were told the world was going to end tomorrow?  I’m not sure.  What would anyone do?

hugs

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Physical Touch
with a secondary love language being
Quality Time.

Complete set of results

Physical Touch:		11
Quality Time:		9
Acts of Service:		6
Words of Affirmation:		3
Receiving Gifts:		1

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don’t understand our partner’s requirements, or even our own. We all have a “love tank” that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

—–

Doesn’t really surpise me.  I’m a very huggy person.

From my paper journal: “I can talk to him online more easily than in person because online I don’t need to suppress the urge to hug him and never let go.”

Hugs - human contact - a basic food group for me.  When I can’t hug one person, when I lose a previously consistent source of contact, I glom onto someone else . . .

a bit from my paper journal, a collection of thoughts

“Catholicism – walking in a snowy parking lot – cold & slushy, more flakes coming down – grey all around – stained glass – confusion, questions – crosses – smoke and candles – inconsistencies – disagreement – unexplained – unexplainable? – books”

I was raised Catholic.  But I didn’t really believe.  So when Confirmation approached, I told my mom I wasn’t doing it.  (A fight ensued.)

I sometimes wish I believed in someone to pray to.

But I don’t.  And I can’t just wake up and decide to.

I can’t just throw faith out into a mysterious something that may or may not have someone in it.

This needs more thought.

huh.

Last night I was up far too late working, after pulling an all-nighter the previous night.

I had way to many friends IMing me sternly ordering me to go to bed, but what actually worked was this . . .

(12:44:12 AM) [me]: sweet dreams
(12:44:24 AM) [him]: you too, and I hope you go to bed eventually… >.<

And I’m too tired to write anything more.

Protected: stream-of-consciousness autobiographical sketch

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I don’t want to die

Not because I’m scared of death per say.  Because the thought of being a corpse grosses me out.  Don’t like the thought of being cremated, either.

My ideal would be to slowly become more insubstantial and transparent day by day until I disappear.

Or to become sea foam like the Little Mermaid.

I don’t want to be a yucky dead thing or a pile of ashes or even frozen.

So how do I disappear?

things happen

I get busy.

Friends are useful, and help with the things the middle school girl won’t let you do.

Little miss middle school may never speak to my friend G again.  Ah well.

Anyhow, I’m starting over with the every day thing, so to speak, though I’m not counting.  Why the sudden rejuvenation?  I was doing a technology survey for the boy’s senior project, and one of the questions asked “do you have a website or blog?  Explain.”  My answer was ”I have a blog with a few posts and a lot of good intentions,” and I realized I wanted more than just good intentions.

Here we go!

I’m also shouting into nothingness, I need someone to read this.