Time to be gone for a time; I'm going down to the Ashland Shakespeare festival with Kevin (and Huston). I've been looking forward to this for months... Kevin is one of my favorite people in the world, and I've missed him greatly in the past half-year. I'll be away from computers, my house, Seattle, and all that those things bring with them. My fingers have the faint scent of garlic, and I'll miss the reason why. I'll worry about and miss another, too. Oh well... I have to admit to myself someday that things work even when I'm not around.
I have found what I thought I would never see again on the UW campus... a non-Communist vending machine! Yes, the vending machine in By George actually sells normal M&Ms rather than peanut ones, normal Skittles rather than some bastard tropical variety, and normal Hershey's bars rather than almond ones. Praise be.
The word of the week is : tired. Too many damn dreams; dreams that keep me tossing and turning, dreams that start me awake at 4:00 am, dreams that see me exhausted in the morning, feeling as if I slept not at all. I don't think I'd mind so much if I actually remembered any of them... instead, I'm left in the morning with intangible fragments, wisps of memory that quickly fade into chaos. Except for the one about the restaraunt. Out of all the ones to remember, why that particular one? It wasn't even that good.
Long day. Tired. Cranky. Tired of being cranky. I want to be happy again.
I feel rather crappy. My intestines can't seem to decide which direction they want to make me feel like they're desiring of expelling things in, and the whole experience is making me somewhat crabby. Shouldn't have gone to class today... I'm hard pressed, even now, to point to any reason I really had to even get out of bed this morning. Sigh.
Alone. The house is quiet, despite the music rattling through the walls. I promised that I wouldn't stare at the walls. I promised. I felt like driving tonight; I nearly did. I wanted to follow a black road and while away time tapping my fingers to changing rythyms and let my brain wander away to Canada. I'm not certain why I didn't do it, why I don't throw some shoes on and do it now. I think it has something to do with having promised to not stare at walls. There's a serenity to being alone; I appreciated the company earlier today, but felt bad that I was keeping Jeff away from a party. I am the anti-fun. With no one around, with Richard in Europe, Jim in Winlock, Chris in Forks, Jeff at Grant's, family scattered along the world, I have no one to answer to, bother, console, entertain, or defend myself against. I could stare at the walls; no one would know. Perhaps I will, perhaps I won't. Perhaps I'll finish my laundry, perhaps I'll go to sleep, perhaps I'll pull a book into bed and read until four in the morning. And perhaps I'll stare at the wall. But I'll try not to, since I did promise.
Angry again. I often say that there's no one who can make me as angry as my brother, but that's only something I say when Bryce is concerned. Actually, it's only Dad that has perfected the art completely, to the point of not even overtly trying. Bryce is only a pale shadow. Ahhhh, home. Ain't it great.
I mass-murdered thousands of brain cells today. Gotta love chem lab! Let's see, this thing will burn my skin off, and look, so will this one! I know, let's pour them among assorted glassware, and hope that the fact that we just splattered some doesn't matter much! Even better, I know, I know, let's leave concentrated ammonium hydroxide out in the open, where unsuspecting people walking by can get full whiffs (grumble).
I wish that I wouldn't try to keep myself depressed. I know it's a bad idea, but I can't quite seem to help helping myself do it. I dislike being depressed; it's a terrible way to get attention, makes me feel dreadful, and completely saps all my physical and mental and emotional energy. I haven't wanted to do much more for the past three days than curl up in a ball and sleep, and it's only me that stops me from doing it. Hrm. There are four different "I"s referred to in those preceeding paragraphs. Perhaps one of these days I'll finally go quietly insane and be able to rest and have someone else adjust my straitjacket every few days to ensure I don't get a sore.
I know what I wanted to write about, but I'm still too angry and too tired to do it effectively. As is the bane of my existence (or at least of my mental peace tonight), I don't particularly want to do something if I'm not going to do it somewhat well. So I think I'll go to sleep, as at least I can be hopeful that I'll be successful at that.
In lieu of actually writing anything tonight, here are some tidbits from things that were on my mind when I was in Colorado, that got scribbled on my Visor :
Augh : Well, it certainly was very annoying to have this thing crap out on me. I wonder how much I'll be able to recover from my computer. Not that I've had too much time to accumulate "stuff," but STILL!! And I still haven't the foggiest what happened... it seems to be fine now, albeit minus everything I'd put on it in the week I'd owned it.
Gaming : I miss it. Very very badly. It's what started me not being able to sleep tonight; why I'm lying on a bed without having taken my boots off and let myself get into a flurry of re-creating notes and things to distract myself. I will e-mail Joe and ask him about non-Franklinized games. I want it back, that escape of not-me, that creativity, that chance to interact with such wonderful, intense people as gamers. I miss it so badly I feel I want to cry.
Bitch : I find myself upset. I was chosen for the wrong reasons, and while I do no harm, I find myself hard-pressed to point at much tangible good. I find myself unable to distinguish between puzzles I am expected to question and ones I am expected to find the answers to myself and ones I am expected to have already known the answers to. I find myself unsure whether I am to simply wait to be given things to do or if it is desired that I force my way into projects. I have so little conception of what it is they DO; I don't see Dylan enough, and Chris either races through tasks unexplained or doesn't work when I am around. I find myself selfishly concerned (ah, I am human after all) at the prospect of Chris' departure; "Keeping up with Chris and Dylan for the next few quarters should be a priority," says David, but how am I to keep up with Chris and Dylan when both are gone, to be replaced by who knows who?
Well, the redeeming factor is that at least now I know why my card keeps getting "declined." I have yet to decide if I will continue to be completely embarassed or not. Turns out that either NW Federal Credit Union or certain authentication systems (or both) don't yet have the correct authorization codes for each other. The young man serving us was very nice about it (including explaining what was the matter, drawing on his experience having worked at NWFCU a few months ago), but it was still frustrating. Argh. At least I know now.
I don't think I have been quite this angry and frustrated for a long time. I mean, I'm really really angry. It's over such an insignificant thing, too, the knowing of which simply serves to further piss me off. All I asked for was the freaking ability to clean up my room today, to be able to live in there, not being tormented by a half-freaking done job that should have been finished last freaking week. But noooooo. Someone had to have pillaged the particular box that I bought, removing all of the screws et. al. that should have been, by this time, holding up a shelf in my room. Things wouldn't be completely clean, of course. I'd still be having to figure out what I'm going to do about a desk, my computer/stereo/sub would be on the floor, and my clothes still unwashed or in the process of drying. But at least I'd be able to fucking walk through my room and sleep on my own damn bed. Stop laughing. I don't know how to explain how upset I am right now, without being smirked at, like I was with Dad. It's about basic expectations about how life was supposed to be by this time of night having been violated. Kirei ni natta hazu yo. I think I'm just going to go sulk and sleep on the goddamned floor. And quit laughing.
I didn't think much of it this morning, when Grandma complained about opening up the door and the smoke; of course, 20 minutes later, watching the news closely as we've all been doing for the last few days, we learned that a third fire had sprung up... this one in El Dorado Canyon, not more than a few miles from here. We can see the smoke billowing up over the hills, and slurry bombers are flying low overhead getting over there to put it out. That one's only about 3-5 acres right now... but then again, so were the others when they started, and with all the firefighters battling the two huge ones (they're flying and trucking in more people from all over the country, thank god), resources are spread dreadfully thin. About our only amusement this morning has been noting that the news crews are spread so far out that it was channel 9's economic specialist that's currently covering the El Dorado fire. I think I'm going to go watch the news and stare out the windows some more.
Well, I meant to write something yesterday, but I got distracted doing absolutely nothing. Today was beautiful... Chris has already heard this bit, but I'm all tired out. Conor and Ben and I went up for a long walk in my grandparents' pasture... well, not really the pasture, more the wooded ridge that lines it. I had to climb up to get up there, and was a little surprised when I turned around and realized the boys had found a way up behind me (I'd had to haul myself up the rock... I guess they found an easier way). So we walked up there and watched the lights of Denver get brighter as it got darker, reflecting on the clouds and smoke. Of course, a little while later, I realized that finding a way DOWN for the boys wasn't going to be as easy as finding a way up. ;) Ben was a real scaredy cat, but Conor and I convinced him to follow us down some pretty sketchy deer trails (heh). It was a little sobering to see all the smoke from those fires spread out across the sky, and I'm thankful that neither one of them are near here. I hope that not too many people end up sleeping on high-school gym floors tonight.
Leaving for my grandparents place for a week.... 40 acres and some dogs. I may not be available at all for email... hopefully I will. Maybe I can find some telnet client and d/l it for the mac. I think I shall sleep a lot. And eat a lot. And play with dogs and maybe ride some horses. Yay!
Oh sweet Jesus, this is a very old Macintosh. I crashed it twice trying to get NCSA Telnet on it. Funny to think that the last time that I was here, Brian was too... we argued a lot, that trip, and I came out of it more in love with him than ever. Go figure. Life goes on, I suppose. Anyway, I think I'm just not going to be in much contact... with a mountain full of places to wander off to, and five dogs to wrestle with... I think it's time for some out and out vacation.
I'm exhausted, and sleeping on the floor next to where Jeff is currently snoring sounds infinitely better than spending half an hour clearing off my bed and a path to it. Brushing my teeth seems rather overrated as well... perhaps I'll not even turn off the lights.
Well, in approximately eight hours, I get to begin failing my math final. How lucky am I? I find it very frustrating that from an objective standpoint, I enjoyed math much more this quarter, yet I am going to do much more poorly than last quarter (and I certainly didn't do stellar then). I don't have the fact that I aced one of the midterms backing me up this time, and it is with a great sense of despair that I've just decided to go to bed, cram a little in the morning, and try like hell to get a passing grade.
Dormishness : I'm moving out of here sometime in the next few days. I'll be at home for the summer... the full summer. It's going to be the longest time that I've spent in my parents house since I moved out three years ago. It's funny to think that I never wanted to leave, and now I find myself rebelling at the idea of going back. But discussion of that can wait. Right now, what's on my mind is the fact that I'm leaving the dorms, never to return. Sure, the dorms have driven me nuts in some fashions over the years... but bandwidth and convenience have always made up for it. Where else but in the dorms would I have learned such bizarre behavior as brushing teeth while pacing in the halls? At least I don't brush my teeth in the shower, something that completely trips me out (especially when I lived in Terry and other people's showers were only seperated from me by a partition, and their soap and toothpaste spittle could fall and land on my feet.... ick ick). I mean, I can't brush my teeth in even tepid water—I obsessively need the water to be cool when it goes in my mouth, and I take my showers hot. Anyway. It'll be nice to have my own bathroom again, to not need to use a key, and to not have to wonder who's going to be in there when I walk in. Although at least I'm not a guy on my floor here in Mercer—half the girls on my floor use the guys' bathroom because they're too freaking lazy to walk down to their own. They do their hair and use the toilets and brush their teeth and I hope to god they don't take showers in there, because I already feel sorry enough for the boys around here. Though not that the boys would mind the girls taking showers in there, I suppose... I simply wonder how many of the guys are comfortable taking their showers knowing that some random chick on the floor is likely to be curling her hair right there.
I did less poorly (I think) than I thought I would. Regardless, I don't think I did spectacularly, and the four hours of testing turned me into a shambling automaton, limited to not much more than staring at walls (Chris can attest that I was doing so rather well). And I ate too many Lemonheads. Note to self : heat, sugar, Jen, and cars do not go well together. The sensation of needing to vomit radiating out from the base of my skull is an altogether unpleasant one that I wish to avoid in the future. It was in a 249$ cause, though, 249 dollars of gadgety graphite goodness. Woohoo!
Ironic that I should have had such a good day yesterday and not have said a single thing about it, then have had a... well, not terrible day today, but certainly not good, considering that I have two finals on the morrow morning that I'm rather unprepared for and does this count as a run on sentence yet? Blah. I feel... tired. Yes, that's a good, plain word for it. I have more things to do in this next week than time to do them; I shall do poorly on my pchem final in just over 7 hours, I shall do less poorly but still not very well on the Japanese final directly afterwards, and then I believe I shall be working. Somewhere in there I should probably peek at the material that shall be on the CS final on Tuesday afternoon, but I most likely won't, seeing as the words "afternoon" and "final" seemed to both show up previously in this sentence. Moving. I need to do some moving. And speaking to Dylan, before I become the newest person to make a complete and utter fool of themselves attempting to pretend that they know what they are doing. The math final on Thursday lurks on the horizon, to use a rather cliche term. If I knew how to do so, I'd consider composing a haiku. For no reason really... other than to use the word "sparrow." Why, I do believe I shall sleep.
I rather think I'm going to go and get myself very depressed. There are certain juxtapositions of events in life that make lying on one's bed facing the wall seem like an overwhelmingly good thing to do. This is one of those times.
Time to switch the page over. Of course, I think I've only ever switched the page over on the actual day I should have once since I started keeping the monthly archive. And considering that I'm using pico tonight, I think I'm just going to have to keep the tradition alive. And I love shorts that just about fall off my hips! They're my favorite! I got another one today... I tend to get them every two months or so, from some dedicated soul... of course, they're not often as talkative as you, Benjamin. Not that that's a bad thing. It's never bad to be unusual. Unless you're unusually green and slimy. Then that's no good. I seriously need to go to bed, and it's only 7:45 pm. Of course, if I went to bed now, I could get about 12 hours of sleep. How cool would that be. I miss hearing Jeff say that. I miss seeing people other than who I stumble past in the course of a "normal" day. I swear to god, never ever again 4 classes and work and getting stalked at the same time. Well, besides next fall, but hopefully the last won't be a problem (YAY! 25 feet!), and two of them are Philosophy classes, right? They're like, easy, right? Riiiiiiiight.