There have been so many instances in the past few weeks when I've been overwhelmed with the urge and thoughts to write here, but then I don't. It makes me sad to think of lost words and paragraphs, because never again will my mind be able to compose those matched phrases into sentences that mean something of that exact moment that I was feeling them, and there's no use in trying to recreate the situation or the feeling or the thought because it won't be genuine and right. I get stressed about things like this - this is the kind of person I am. I get stressed thinking about the lost thoughts and moments of my life.

My life has been a study in personalities and struggling internal emotions lately; a study of how malleable time is, of how God can take your perspective, turn it, twist it, teach you something from your tears, and drop you off in an unimaginably better situation (which still seems to teeter-totter between Aaaaa and Ahhhh). I wish I could be more specific here, but I don't know who reads this :)

After my trip to Skidaway the first week of school to drop the lander in Wassaw Sound (I think that's what it's called), I was excited about everything. I had just spent 2 days on a boat, made new friends while deepening others, learned a little about the world of graduate school, received personal tutoring in the nuances of geochemistry from a doctorate-degree'd person, experienced the sorrows of equipment trouble, and felt truly a part of the people around me. Alot of times I feel like I can be physically in a group, without being mentally or emotionally connected; during the boat trip, though, I was part of the group. And I liked that. My mind wasn't elsewhere, my heart wasn't elsewhere.

I've been doing a better job at keeping up with one of my three personal/life goals this week. (My three goals are: 1. Friendship 2. Thinking in the present 3. Body and Mental Fitness) I saw Jody on Thursday, hung out with Steph and some sisters Friday, hung out with roommates Saturday and went to dinner with old buddies (*smile*) tonight.

It's amazing how wonderful it feels to be reminded that you have friends, and that they're people who care about you without reservations; they care for the whole you and not just the parts they like. Last weekend gave me back a lot of self confidence that had been beaten into submission the previous weeks, by various people-related incidents, and reminded me that it's ok to feel. I have big issues with feelings. (I didn't have them [feelings] until I realized I couldn't fall in love without loosening the wall I had built around my heart and allowing myself to truly absorb emotions.) So, once again I learn that without feeling the bad, there's no way to comprehend the good.

It's funny how much I feel I've learned about friendship in just these past three weeks. Since for the first time in my college career, I have real time to cultivate frienships in a more meaningful way (outside of school!), and I'm seeing who are superficial friends, who really cares, and who I can't wait to know better. I'm learning more about what you're supposed to do to be a good friend. (And what to do to be a bad one in my eyes). I thought I had figured this elementary topic out in high school (at the latest!) but it seems so much more complex now since so much of friendship and spending time together is dictated by personal efforts and not just the 8-3 hours of structured school and convenience.

Amidst all that, I'm really happy right now. It's a nice, pure happy feeling. And that's how I hope it stays (for at least a little while, anyway). I think the West Wing might have something to do with it....I'm so addicted, I've begun to confuse the politics of the show with reality.

Goodnight world. Maybe I'll be more prolific next time.

An excerpt from Jen Lee's blog, pasted below, describes exactly how I've felt about friendships and explains more of my motivitation for lots of what I talked about in my entry above.
From replaced by everyday:

"Over the break I was hanging out with some friends from high school, and most of them live with best girl friends, and have these crazy stories about parties and fun times with their roommates. And I don't really think I have anything equivalent: my two years as a PL sort of cut away from any closeness that would have been formed from living together with friends.

I don't really know where I'm going with all this. I just feel like in 20 years, I'll think back on my college experience, and it will be mostly unmemorable. And that's not what it's supposed to be like, is it? College is supposed to be one of the defining periods of your life. It's supposed to be filled with late-night escapades and deep talks with friends and finding your passion for something, and building that passion through academics and research and extracurriculars."

school.