I'm tired of the first thing here being something sad, so I'm here to write something happy. Unfortunately for the sake of my blog, I talked to my roomies (Biffy and Smellyissa) allllll night about nothing in particular, and so now I'm all thought-ed out and don't feel like repeating all the randomness here. Alas. But, we did come to an important conclusion about how good it feels to eat lots of vegetables after a drought of veggie eating and having some really good poops. You know the kind I'm talking about, the kind that just slide right out and don't leave you with much to wipe away. Yeaaaaaaa buddy.

Anywho, it's started to become interesting to me to watch the progression of my life in months at a time as dictated by science, if that makes sense to people outside of my mind.

Big shout out to my boy Chris: Happy Birthday!!!

Before I head off to bed, I need to gush about my new shoes. I picked myself up some black Birkenstocks over the weekend and have subsequently fallen in love with them. They're super comfy, super cute, and just so perfect! Aaaaahhh I'm squealing like a high school girl over the cute guy who's tutoring me in AP chemistry because he's so cute...errr, I mean like what a high school girl might squeal over... hehehe I felt really guilty for spending as much money as I did on them, but now that I've been wearing them I can't even realistically think about returning them. It'd be like abandoning a new born child!! gasp! :)

It's off to sleepy land for me. And why are there never any "revolutions"?? Come on, people! It's a comment link. COMMENT!!! :)

Just some thoughts running through my head, unrelated to this, I just felt like writing and this is what came out:

In my mind’s eye, I am holding a rose. A full, in bloom rose with its petals staring full on at the sky, absorbing the sun’s cheer, smiling at the deep blue of the sky and winking at the puffy white clouds nestled into the sky’s bosom. Then slowly, I look down to see each petal of the rose being softly plucked off the flower and I’m scared and I’m looking all around me, wondering who could be so cruel to pluck off the petals?! Each, one by one, of the tendrils fell to the ground until only the very last petal was left on the stem. I gripped the base of the petal and my knuckles began to turn white. The harder I squeezed, the more I felt my last beautiful petal drift out of my grasp, out of my life, out of me. And then it is over, and I am alone and my petals that once were beautiful, filled with hope and love, are gone for good.

I don't know whether after I write something in here I'm just more sensitive to people asking me "How are you??" and "How are things with Jody??" because I feel like I've just bared my soul (but not really; I still feel really vulnerable the next morning and I wake up and think, wow, why did I write that? why did I feel so silly?, and half hope that no one reads this ever, or (going back to my original thought at the beginning of this sentence) if people actually do read this, wonder if I'm ok and try to find out in a round-about way if I am by subtly asking what is normally an everyday question. I don't know....and I don't even know if I hope that people do read this, or hope that they don't. Hum hum hum.

Thought for the day: I've come to the scientific conclusion, based on approximately 10 months of acute observation under controlled variables and a controlled environment, that all those health books are correct and emotions fluctuate, and you have ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL OVER HOW YOU FEEL and I despise it. It's not fair, really.

Anywho, I have an article waiting for me to write it, and then some essays, and then the European map wants some attention. Aye yi yi.

But on a more positive note, three of only my favoritest people in the whole wide world are coming to visit me here in Hotlanta this weekend. I can't wait, but I also hope that I don't disappoint by being lame and not really knowing what to do around this happening town. Maybe I'll take them to the World of Coke...everybody likes to taste those crazy flavors, right?? :)

big green monkey everyone's a junkie. is it bad that sometimes i think about what the rest of the world will think if i died? i wonder who will genuinely be sad. and i also wish sometimes, just for an instant, that i was dead so that the people(person) i care about most would realize what they have. would value it, life. maybe not death, but just severe (but recoverable) bodily damage. is that morbid? is it an indication i'm psychologically unstable?

yesterday on the way to the mall there was a traffic holdup and so we were going really slow under the bridge overpass and i saw an older man (although he could have been young, with his face prematurely aged by the streets) rocking himself back and forth like an autistic child might rock themselves, in that nook between the side of the road and the underpart of the overpass. my eyes watered and my world stopped for that instant - how can the world be such that i was in a car with a person who was selfishly pissed off because the traffic was slow, and theres also this man who has nothing but the heatfrom the cars passing overhead and in front of him. i wonder when the last good meal he had was. i wonder when some one last told him they loved him. i wonder when he last smiled. i wonder if the only company he has are the voices in his head. the table next to me at dinner tonight, a family pizza joint, had 3 kids, maybe 2, 1, and a couple months (not all a part of the same family) with them. they seemed to all be having a good time, but when i looked into the baby's eyes as she(?) tried to grab her stocking'd feet i felt worried. i felt scared that this innocent looking little baby was going to have to grow up to see things when theyve progressed past their sorry state now; we passed some trees leaving the restaurant and i wondered if the baby would ever get to see these particular trees; would she ever know what it's like to stand in an unadulterated strand of trees in the middle of a preserve and feel life spinning around you, feel apart of the world, feel apart of its cycle, feel the touch of a branch brush her cheek as she romps through a field? and i worried. i smiled and waved at what appeared to be her older brother, and i wondered if he would make it out of his teens: would he bear witness to a school shooting? would he have his father taken away from him by the government? would he ever have to know what it feels like to want to end? also in the restaurant, i saw a girl, about 5, hanging from her father's neck, burrowed in that comforting crook between his armpit and his chest, legs wrapped around his belly. would she have him ripped away from her, out of his watchful embrace? would she be jaded to the world? would she eventually realize there was nothing? at the same time as feeling all this irrational concern, i was thinking about how nice it must be to be apart of a family that is together. what safety must come from knowing they will all be there in the morning when you wake up. if only....

and oh you thought you could buy your last piece of mind. --olp

no more words are coming right now.

i want to just call mandy or danny and tell them everything - but there's nothing to tell. i hate being a girl! i absolutely hate it! why couldn't i have been born with a sac and 2 balls? then things would be easier, right? because boys don't have feelings or emotions or fucking hormones. aye yi yi.

i stare back at the pages that shape my recollection of my past. i wonder how i happened. i wonder where it started. i wonder when it will end. i remember sitting in my car, driving. driving. driving. running away. i long to find my physalia, and go. leave. search. find. l o s t. i'm everything you are.

what happens when words don't relieve anymore? where do i go next to calm the soul?

at least i got a kick ass parking spot tonight, and i fucking parallel parked that bitch! ha.

Why am I such a loser? He calls and is like, "Where should I go party?" and I'm like, "Party - what's that? I don't have any friends, so I don't really know what it's like to be invited places, let alone to a party"

So instead, I'll just sit alone in my room and drown in self pity.

The door opened with a creak; I knew there was danger
I pulled the handle further, surprised by the whiteness
of a bleak room bathed in light.
My mind was a strange place to stare into.

I wondered if they all looked like this,
so empty and abandoned,
or if it's just me.

My mind is fighting my heart, which longs to pour tears out between my eyelids.
my mind says, No! This is stupid, so are you.
So my heart recoils with the guilt of having felt something
when it knew it should have stayed stone.

I can't believe it's already Thursday, that the whirlwind sardonic people call "school" is back in session; I don't quite feel overwhelmed yet, but certain things must be noted.

Like, for example, the fact that as I type this, there is a person bouncing a ball in the room above mine; most annoying is the fact that its bounces are not in sync with the beat of my music (which happens to be Our Lady Peace, only the best band ever).

"Are you sad? Are you locked in your room? Are you holding yourself? You shouldn't be." --Just a sampling of the OLP song playing this very instant.

I have been very busy this week with lots of stuff but nothing to really show for all my efforts, sadly. I'm very upset that my acting debut is the same night as Jody's formal, which we had been looking forward to lots since it's in Savannah. Rarr. So now not only will my parents not get to come because of governmental beaurocracy, but now another important person might not be able to go either. Alas. On a happier note, I got elected Sisterhood chair for Alpha Gam last night at chapter - weehoo! I can't wait; I'm definitely ready to move on from t-shirts, pictures, and favors.

I had a meeting with Rosemary on Tuesday to just talk, which was really nice (she's writing a letter of rec. for me). I found myself separating from myself, if that makes sense, and listening to what was coming out of my mouth and I was amazed at how succinctly I was able to describe the change I've felt happen within myself in the past 6 months. How clearly and definitively I described my newfound self-awareness, of knowing what I want out of life (at least at this stage), what I want to accomplish, what standards I have for myself...Most importantly, I've learned how unimportant school is in the grand scheme of things. Or, maybe I should say, how little the classes themselves play a role in defining who I am as a person and helping me find out what makes me happiest. I like randomness; GIVE ME ENTROPY! I like feeling happy. I like having friends, talking to people, not stressing over trivial things that don't define my person, not feeling defeated at every turn, not feeling my optimism stomped on, not being discouraged, not feeling like I'm not doing enough, knowing enough, being where I dont' really want to be just because I think that's where I'm supposed to be, not wanting to constantly be something else, making decisions that I want to make, not ones that I think I'm supposed to, doing what's right for right now, for me. I don't think I'm verbalizing quite what my mind is trying to say, the words are all kind of pouring out nonsensically together, but I know what I mean. So there. :)

"We've both got a long way to run...yeaaaah" --a little shout out to my KAB

Speaking of her, I miss my Kristy more than I'd miss my pinky nail if it was removed. I miss Kristy Sounds, Kristy Routines, Kristy Speakings. It's hard to believe she won't be here for so very long. Alas. I'm having to adjust to hearing different sounds in the morning, different time schedules, different mannerisms. I feel like a puppy dog whose owner has left them at the kennel. Ok, maybe it's not quite that extreme, but still.

I was such a dedicated blogger over break, and then I didn't have access to la computadora the last week or so, so here's what happened:
I came back to Atlanta on New Year's Eve, and Jody and I watched the sad, sad Tech game at his mom's house. Some of his high school friends came over, and his sister and lots of her friends were there. I felt surprisingly comfortable. I almost do better when I don't know people at a party because then I can be the shy person I really am and not have to worry about being super-outgoing or personable. I can just retreat to my mind and let others interact with no expectations of me joining in. At the same time, I really like watching people interact, watching the dynamics of a group and where each individual fits in. I've always been an observer in groups. The problem this creates when I know lots of people at the gathering is that people think I'm sad or depressed and not talking, but no! I just have nothing to contribute and would rather watch others. Sometimes. Anywho, after a good stint at the mother's (and me having a super strong margerita) we drove back to Tech and went to a friend's party, where I proceeded to *enjoy* the eve a little more (read: I learned how to use a keg), talk to people I hadn't seen in ages, and enjoy just being. This was the first New Years that I felt I really experienced as an individual human being in the real world; prior years have always been filled with my parents, going to bed at nine, setting the alarm for 11:45, watching the ball or orange drop, and nodding off once again; last year was pretty fun at the time (chilling with close friends from high school while two of our friends got it on in one of the bedrooms...yeooww!) but then kind of soured; but this time I was off, away, in reality sort of. The room of people counted down to the new year, we toasted, sipped a little bubbly, and cheer was shared by all. Sometime right after 2003 was born, I asked a very large (read: tall) friend if he remembered last new year's party in which he danced with a girl in between his long, lanky legs, practically bent over and to the floor. The best part was that I asked him all this in front of a girl I think he was trying to hook up with. Ha! By that point, I couldn't really hold any words in, whatever came to mind, I said. Laughter was shared by all.

The following day found me completely consumed by football. Woof. We experimented in making different chip dips, so that the bowl-watching experience would be complete. On Thursday I made my first ever trekk to a ski mountain. The drive was gorgeous - the trees shimmered with a beauty only possible in the starkest of growth phases, with their limbs bare of all leaves, and their bark glaring in contrast to the crisp blue skies kept company by the gentlest puffs of white clouds. Once we had begun our ascent to the top of the mountain (or as near to it as our lodge would take us), the atmosphere filled with fog thicker than my glasses. I was terrified; I couldn't see five feet in front of the car. But, as evidenced by this very entry, I survived. :)

The skiing was amazing. I took a lesson with Dan, a man whose aged and weather-beaten face had an easy smile ready for me. He taught me the art of the "wedge," the stop, and the shoulder slant. I felt comfortable in his presence, as I half skiied-half fell my way down the easy patch of the mountain. By the time my lesson was over, I felt ready to conquer Everest. Just let me at it! I thought. But then, when Dan had left my side, I was suddenly stricken with terror -- was it right shoulder up the slope or left? was it wedge or edge on this part? do I hold the pole left or right on the chair? What was I to do???

Just as I managed to close my eyes and bear the fog, I also just went with the snow, fell over a couple more times, and got the hang of this whole "ski" thing. And now I have the bug. I want to go again, I want to feel that cool air against the tiniest part of my cheeks that show between the bottom of my scully and the top of my purple striped scarf. I want to feel the crush of the freshly laid snow between my skiis and the ground somewhere below.

The little town enraptured me: I felt transported into a story, like this small wedge of light-speckled skyline had been set in front of me for me to write a book about it - the mountain was to be my muse, I its instrument of voice. But at the same instant that I felt inspired, I also sadly knew that I never wanted to live in a place like "this," at least not for an extended period of time. As gorgeous as everything was, I was missing something, and knew I wouldn't be able to find it elevated 4500 feet above the very thing I longed for.

It's time to end this mental reprieve from the real world.

"Oh mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child in my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean's tides, can I handle the changing seasons of my life? Well I've been afraid of changing because I've built my life around you, but time makes you bolder, children get older, and I'm getting older too. So, take this love and take it down. If you climb a mountain and you turn around, if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well the landslide will bring it down, down." --Fleetwood Mack