I'm writing this post on my back, with my head propped up against Pumba (my stuffed warthog with the green and red bugs sewn into his mouth) and my laptop resting on my tummy. I have finally, and unequivocally, ushered the information age into my parent's world.

Best Buy had an awesome deal on wireless routers over the weekend, so H bought a harddrive and I bought a $5 Linksys Wireless-B broadband router. Actually, I bought two $5 routers, because when I told my parents I was getting it for the house but am going to take it with me to my soon-to-be-determined LA home, my dad wanted another one, "for the office." And after several technical support telephone calls, I am now a proud system administrator, the set-er-upp-er of a secure wireless network.

My dad was estatic - he walks into the office before I set up the secure part of the network, and is amazed to find his palm pilot connected to the internet -- wirelessly!! In the midst of his amazement, I made the connection secure, he was kicked off, and then we had to figure out how to make his various wireless gadgets remember the passphrase.

For quite possibly the first time since I became a college graduate, I felt my mind challenged technically and it was a rush. I need to start reading academic things, maybe. Eh, that thought will probably change with the first hard-covered technical book I crack.

I'm tired (it's 3:16 am and I'm supposed to eat breakfast with moms and pops in the morning), but I'm going to struggle through and get this out now, before the raw thoughts thaw and turn to mush.

Last night Hanny and I went to the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel and Casino, which not only has a hotel and casino (as the name would suggest), but also a large shopping/restaurant/club area, too. The casino was gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. I felt like I was in Disney World, and I think my mouth hung open while I stared all around trying to absorb all the colors and people and commotion. The themed restaurants and clubs were neat, too - H and I hung out in a jazz club for a while, watching a latin jazz band play, and took in a little of the club featuring dualing pianos (whoa! so cool!). Then we decided to ditch the forty-year olds and watch the end of the Spurs basketball game at Hooters (where our waitress was the only one wearing a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt. I laughed.) We were surrounded by beautiful people - between being there yesterday and south beach today, a girl like myself could really develop an inferiority complex.

Today we decided to immerse ourselves in the fun of Hip Hop Weekend (aka Memorial day weekend in Miami) and go to south beach. I've never seen the beach so crowded, and I've also never seen so many topless women at a non-nudist beach. I don't understand the beauty of boobies (perhaps someone who knows would like to enlighten me?) - they're really just lumps of fat and tissue, right? I think that cleavage or a partially covered breast is much more attractive than a fully exposed, nip-and-all, teat. Tomorrow we're going to Ft. Laudy instead, though, which should mean parking will be easier to find.

Seeing so many "typical" (are they really though? my sample location is highly selective in a way) people in the past few days has really disappointed me, and made me realize that I'm an undercover educational elitist. Granted the places I've been have been the sorts of locations that reward overt sexuality, but I feel so overly exposed to human lust and temptation and sex being the motivation for life and life's actions, that I'm saddened by humanity. Such a sweeping statement isn't really fair, I know, and is an immature argument for my emotions, but I really wonder sometimes how I'm going to fit in in a world that I feel so critical of, so different from, and so (scared?) of. I want to be rewarded in life for thinking, wondering, questioning, not just for looking particularly good in gold sparkly low cut tops. And I'm discouraged because I think that is what the world selects for. It's probably that I'm jealous that I don't fit into that world, that I don't naturally excell in those areas and it's hard and a challenge that can't be fixed by just trying harder or studying more. I reassure myself by thinking that it's just like that here, the places I've been, and not everywhere. If so, then I want to escape from the world that's ruled by pussy (as Hanson postulates).

Yea, I'm probably just feeling insecure. Even so, I hope that in the long run brains really do matter, and not it's not all about brawn.

More lyrics stuck in my head...
"Don't you see, don't you see,
that the charade is over?
And all the "Best Deceptions" and "Clever Cover Story" awards go to you.
So kiss me hard
'cause this will be the last time that I let you.
You will be back someday
and this awkward kiss that screams of other people's lips will be of service
to keeping you away.

I heard about your regrets.
I heard that you were feeling sorry.
I heard from someone that you wish you could set things right between us.
Well I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I guess I should have heard of them from you."
--Dashboard Confessional, "The Best Deceptions"

There's nothing like going out in public, tasting the world, and realizing how much better home is.

It's funny that that's my instinctual reaction when I go out down here - my friends are great, it's all the other people. I think I've been spoiled by the sorts of people I hung out with at Tech. Listening to some random band (the guitarist is one of Danny's fraternity brothers) tonight at some random club in Hollywood, I tried to dissect in my mind what it is that made me have so much fun outside my dorm room but not outside of my crib in the 'Dale. Sure, in Atlanta the places we went were mostly bar-ish, not usually with live music. But when it comes down to it, I can't settle on anything but the people being the difference. Maybe I had just gotten really comfortable in Atlanta, too, and here is. Well, here is like I'm a little girl again, struggling to be cool and fit in and find out how to grow up. So when we're out and being young adults, I feel like I'm just faking it and everyone around me can see through the act.

I really miss my Tech friends. I'd like to think that I took stock of how much I valued my friends while I was there, but in reminiscing, I'm reminded of all the times I wish I had counted my blessings a little more. Stop! self, regret will not temper sadness, only prolong it.

Maybe I'll make a trip up to the Atl sometime soon. Catch up. All that. It could be a little wierd, but what's life for if it's not spiced up by wierdness? Anyone want to offer their couch (eh, I'll even take carpeted floor) to a roving college graduate starved for intellectual conversation and mental stimulation not triggered by an especially good episode of Good Eats?

I attended my second Funk class at the gym tonight. It's a hip-hop dance class with an instructor who looks just like my "friend." No seriously, they could be twins. They both wear the same type of glasses. Same hair "cut." Same height and build. Same skin and eye color. I seriously feel like my "friend" is teaching me to dance nastily to Ciara's "Ooohhh" song. And I like it. ;)

Today we started working on a dance to Ciara's "One-two step" song, too, but it was more complicated and faster and ended up with the instructor laughing at me. It's okay, 'cause I was laughing at me too. The thing is, I love the class, I love throwing my hips and tushy around without care, but I don't have much rythm. So I dance my own way -- awkwardly and clumisly. That's just my style, yo.

This throwing of hips and tush is teaching me something, though, besides a few steps I'm going to have to break out in Save the Last Dance style at a club one night, and that's to be more comfortable In This Skin (yes, that also happens to be the name of Jessica Simpson's newest album. Fine, I've been watching too much MTV and E! THS lately). To revel in the feel of my torso thrown to the right, sashayed to the left, my top half shakin' all around. That's right, I'm a woman. So there, self! That's right I've packed a lil' junk in this trunk for my trip around the dance floor. And that's right, I have been lifting weights. *insert a kiss of my biceps here*

hahahahaha

So anyway....

I think I'll just leave it at that right now. Go ahead and keep laughing, world. Yes, just imagine me gyrating and trying to drop it like it's hot. Laugh laugh laugh. But if you're laughing, you should post a comment. C'mon, it'll be fun.

Danny, me, and Hanson on the dock before our snorkling adventure at Bahia Honda State Park.

Maybe this is why people are so afraid of commitment because once you do make that leap you don’t know how many laws you’d break to keep that lover, that child, THAT FUCKING DOG in your life.
-- dooce

Yesterday found me running (ok, honestly, it was just a jog) on a treadmill at the gym, craning my neck up and to the right to watch an episode of Oprah in which she makes peoples' Wildest Dreams Come True. I love when Oprah (and Rosie O'Donnell back in the day) does these sorts of feel-good shows -- there's nothing like watching someone make other people happy to make me swell with good human-comraderie feelings. Sure, I might have teared up a smidge when a busload of Disney characters poured out of a big Oprah Wildest Dreams bus to surprise a deserving teacher and her first grade class with a trip to Disney Land, but I had to crack up when we got to the third Oprah surprise victim.

This woman had a few children of her own and volunteered to raise her sister's handful of children too after her sister and sister's man became addicted to heroine; somehow, this bunch totaled 12 chitlins and they were all crammed into her three bedroom house. Oprah, the kind woman she is, first took the large family on a 20 minute grab-everything-you-can trip in Toys R Us, and then surprised them in yesterday's episode by telling her she was buying her a larger house and completely decorating and furnishing it. Well, by golly, when she announced the new house, I almost jumped off my treadmill because the slightly older woman on a treadmill behind me just screamed! I cracked up -- this woman behind me was clappin' her hands and beaming and yelped an emphatic, "yea!" a couple times. I love south Florida.

I hope it's not possible to overdose on NPR -- the undercurrent to my life -- because I've been listening to it for like 4-5 hours a day. Man, it's just so good. Even when my laptop is playing music, I still keep the radio tuned to WLRN in the background. Right now it's Talk of the Nation.

I submitted an application yesterday to the National Park Service to volunteer at Biscayne National Park with their Sea Turtle Program, cleaning the beach and counting eggs, among other tasks. Park volunteers can also help with biological research, counting organisms of certain species to help the naturalists catalog the park's resident populations. I really hope they take me :) (I mean, jeez, have I mentioned I was on the award-winning Stranahan High School Envirothon team, "Dees Nuts and Berries"? I was the berry. Hehe)

I've been enjoying putting pen to paper the past few days, returning to my old school roots, and jotting down random sentences that come to mind in the car, as I lie restless trying to fall asleep, in the middle of a meal. I feel quite prolific, building a personal catalog of thoughts defining this very nebulous time.

I think I might go to the beach this afternoon. Isn't it amazing how wildly emotions swing and change?

it's still okay that I cry, right?

damn me and my big internet mouth.

D, H, and I (plus M) went snorkling yesterday at Looe Reef out of Bahia Honda State Park in the keys. We saw barracuda, yellowtails, sergeant majors, lots of coral...it was lots of fun and the weather was perfect. It was a perfect distraction, too.

Now I'm deciding what my next distraction will be - taking the test to become officially certified to operate a keelboat, and then volunteer as a camp counselor teaching kiddies to sail, or... well, I haven't really figured out what my other options are yet.

I saw Star Wars Episode III Friday (another distraction) and it was mildly entertaining. Eh.

So....that's it. I'm kind of dried up right now.

My stuffed animals are all squished up under the sides of my bed, marginalized in the emotional struggle that ensconced the usually cheerful purples and greens of my comforter. They bore witness to the back and forth that broke his heart, or fractured it at least. I’m so very sorry.

I am a spigot of emotions that is slowly leaking
Sputtering with droplets of alternating happy
and then sad thoughts,
wondering when the omniscient hand that turned me on (but only so slightly)
is going to let me flood this garden of melancholy or
tighten the valve.
Plug the leak.
Caulk the fractured edges with love, hope, forgiveness, fear
Some patch to make this hose flow with life again.

I’m sorry.

Dave says, “life is short but sweet for certain,” but how does he know – is that guaranteed – can I get my money back yet? Maybe this well of rust-stained water occupying my stomach serves a purpose that will eventually be “sweet.” Maybe I’ll come to grow a red-tinted flower that blooms only because I’ve wallowed in sadness and given in to self doubt.

Sometimes I want to be able to see the last page in this chapter, to know what’s going to happen to lessen the fear/sorrow/tears now, but right now I really want to revel in this rush of actual, real emotions that let me know I’m alive and breathing and real. But not for long, I’m sure – tomorrow I’ll want to flip through some pages and get this part over already.

How is it possible to feel both severely empty and really full at the same time?

Did I mention that I’m sorry?

Well, well, well...where to start?

Today J came to town for what we had hoped would have been eight days of Florida fun. Instead, he asked me why I was being so standoffish and I told the truth and we broke up.

So this is what breaking up feels like, huh?

Well.

From the moment I saw him walk off the plane, my heart dropped. I knew instantly what I had been feeling - not thinking - was right; I knew we were going to need to be apart in order to ever be together. Even though we've talked about this on the phone alot, to actually have it be real in person is a shock and horrible and sad and maddening. But I know it's right. Right? Right. I think.

So now he's in the airport waiting for his flight to take him back to Atlanta. He was in FL for exactly six hours.

I'm kind of stunned, not really knowing how I feel yet. I'm kind of numb. But I do feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. As Kelly Clarkson says, "Since you've been gone I can breathe for the first time."

It doesn't help that I had so much fun yesterday (the Keys - let me save that for the next paragraph) and before that with D and H. I think this is going to be good, for me, for now.

The Keys. The beauty of that neverending blue spilling onto pale shores that finger south calms, excites, erupts love within me. I don't think any person could ever make me feel the same way staring at the Atlantic ocean - my Atlantic ocean - does. It inspires in me hope for the present and the future and makes me happy with thoughts of the memories I left with it earlier with Physalia. When I dip my toes in it's like I'm being tickled by an old friend who has missed me as much as I missed it; I'm suddenly engulfed with a reassuring warmth that yes, this is where you belong, the sort of welcome I've never quite found anywhere else. I know that for me to be serene and happy in my life, I'm going to need to be near the water. Now I just have to find my skipper (or train him :)).

It makes me really sad though, when during my return trip from Marathon early this morning (3 am) I was greeted by an immense orange-y glow rising from the northeast - Miami. It's like a huge fiery orb was dropped in the middle of the ocean and got stuck and glued into place by high rises and money-obsessed beautiful people. I guess that's "civilization" though and should be admired or something. Or something, I say.

Though I still was confused about somethings yesterday, and not sure yet how selfish I wanted to be I'm satisfied with how things went. I can't live with regret, afterall. At least I tell myself that. I'm so intrigued by somethings, and hate the feeling of being at a loss to find out more. It's kind of like being lost with no map and no idea how to even look for a map so you're just gropping around blindly with no chance to know if your fingers are actually grazing across what you need to find resolve.

So many thoughts to expunge...

This past week I've also spent cleaning out my life - literally. I've gone through all my drawers and put together two bags of clothes to donate, and am almost finished going through all my paper-stuff. It's incredible (and incredibly disgusting, too, kind of to see the sheer massive quantity of stuff I've kept over the years) how intimidated I am by younger self. I had it going on back then. It makes me question what I've done lately that even comes close to the dreams, the vision that I had back then.

Looking at old essays, for AP english assignments, scholarship and college applications, random post-it note thoughts scribbled in my car, the idealism I had is so truely heartfelt and passionate, it's saddening almost - how did I really believe those words I wrote about life and it's goals and attributes? was I that naive??. And the answer to that is yes. How did I manage to make friends back then? I really honestly felt like I could go anywhere, do anything, if I only set my mind to it hard enough (though that ideal started to be chipped away when I got wait-listed at Stanford). I almost wish I still had that optimism, but I don't think a person could survive in the real, dismal, disheartening world we live in with the mindset I had. The world is run by people who are jaded and sarcastic today. Man I talked big -it's funny to see what I wouldn't have believed about myself without the obvious reminders of my essays.

This reminscing made me think about society in general and how the world seems geared to promote the success of its youth. "The youth" can be greedy with opportunities and options and help and direction and accolades.

So I've also been thinking about how greatful I am to have certain people put in my life. All these topics intertwine in my mind and relate by their impact on my thought process....Anyway, so some people that might have been frustrating or maddening at times have been part of teaching me to be a better person myself and how to listen and talk and understand how other people work. Thank you for that.

Back to beautiful scenary - D and I talked on the way home about how (we'd both heard) people are naturally attracted more to the look of their "natives" - whereever you're from or culture or whatever - and I wonder if the same could be said for your surroundings, if you'll always favor the environment that looks most like (or is) the one you were raised with, if it's just most normal and beautiful. Hmm.

Some songs have been haunting my thoughts lately:

"Three important rules for breaking up
Don't put off breaking up when you know you want to
Prolonging the situation only makes it worse
Tell him honestly, simply, kindly, but firmly
Don't make a big production
Don't make up an elaborate story
This will help you avoid a big tear jerking scene
If you wanna date other people say so
Be prepared for the boy to feel hurt and rejected
Even if you've gone together for only a short time,
And haven't been too serious,
There's still a feeling of rejection
When someone says she preferres the company of others
To your exclusive company,
But if you're honest, and direct,
And avoid making a flowery emotional speech when you brake the news,
The boy will respect you for your frankness,
And honestly he'll apeciate the kind of straight foward manner
In which you told him your decision
Unless he's a real jerk or a cry baby you will remain friends"
--Nada Surf, "Popular"

"What I'm trying to say is that I-love-you I just
I feel like this is coming to an end
And its better for me to let it go now than hold on and hurt you
I gotta let it burn...

It's gonna burn for me to say this
But it's comin from my heart
It's been a long time coming
But we done been fell apart
Really wanna work this out
But I don't think you're gonna change
I do but you don't
Think it's best we go our separate ways
Tell me why I should stay in this relationship
When I'm hurting baby, I ain't happy baby
Plus theres so many other things I gotta deal with....

Deep down you know it's best for yourself but you
Hate the thought of her being with someone else
But you know that it's over
We know that it's through...

I think that you should let it burn
I'm twisted cuz one side of me is tellin' me that I need to move on
On the other side I wanna break down and cry (ooooh)"
--Usher, "Burn"

So. Baseball, golf, tennis, working out, friends and family. I'm going to be ok. For now. :)

"friend": but at my grandparetns house, there was this chick i'd known since i was a baby
"friend": sort of a , let's try this, and this, sort of thing
Jj: aaaaa!!
"friend": then high school was one big celebate boredom

I love my "friend." who's afraid of the world wide web and its lack of obscurity.

I've been making a list, since I'm addicted to lists to prevent stress, of everything that's come to mind during the past week of no internet that I want to write about. But at this point, I've reached my internet saturation point. I've already spent too much excited time doing email and picture arranging, and so now the frenzy has died away and taken my enthusiasm and inspiration for penning a great entry with it.

I'll be back soon, though, since I now know how easy it is to plug my computer into the broadband.

I'm writing this on my knees. Literally.

My room is (partially) packed and my desk chair is supporting a bag of stuffed animals. (Sidenote: does anyone else ever feel like they're causing their beloved squishy tender friends suffocation by shoving them into a constricting sphere of plastic?)

My school-related graduation receptions are complete, as is the family-induced humilation that necessarily accompanies such events.

All that's left is to sit for four hours, walk across a stage, hand over a gift, smile for a picture, and have it sink in that I am FOREVER done with my undergraduate life. Wow. Of course, the diploma comes later, but that's all beaurocratic nonsense.

In the midst of this culmination of four years of mental expansion (thought: perhaps I'll try to think about each year of school during each hour. Or, I'll read a book borrowed from J.O.), I've been struck to discover still new things about myself -- you'd think I'd have learned this idea from Dr. S the past few weeks, but it still surprises me. It's funny how much life truly is a constantly evolving ball of yarn that unravels and reravels and gets pawed at by the cat called "emotion." Or something. Maybe you all already knew this.

Like selfishness - what a beast. It's wrong, right? But this is the time in life to be selfish, "they" say. What acts are selfish and which are right? Trying to deconstruct this muddle in my mind is confusing me and making me feel like I'm twelve. Why does my heart race with excitement (pound with the thought of what might be to come at the end of the gathering) at some things (people) and feel dread, anger, and sorrow (pound with the thought of what might be to come at the end of the gathering) at other people (things)? I wish I could be mature and communicate, but, well.

Anyway, I'm to report to commencement ceremonies in about seven hours, so goodnight world. Tonight's prayer is for understanding, cheer, and satiation of mental lust (because, for once, it's not physical).

So many goodbyes today. So many partings that don't feel sad until the door is closed, the smile falls away and the heart drops.

I have this great yearning inside to look deeply into the eyes of whoever I'm talking to, hold their shoulders, and tell them what they mean to me. I want to scream, THANK YOU!, YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!, YOU INSPIRE ME TO BE!, WORDS CAN'T DESCRIBE..., thank you. But I get the feeling that that might be a little awkward in the middle of Skiles, or a classroom, or after lunch. My heart is breaking, overflowing with unexpressable emotion that's instead coursing through my body and making me physically feel every thought.

In putting up the cheery face for the last hug, I suddenly realized today - am I robbing my hug-ee of their closure moment? Am I stealing the tender sadness away from a potentially moment worthy moment?

Pre-2:30pm, I was upbeat about the summer and the challenges to come.

Post-3:30pm, I was terrified about living alone, leaving home (here and home home), missing people.....I was smacked with finality.

This, my final night-before-a-final evening of my undergraduate career, would not be complete if I did not procrastinate for at least a few minutes by blogging.

In the past six weeks or so, I went numb, regained too much feeling, was diagnosed with the acute auto-immune disorder Guillian Barre Syndrome (or here), started seeing someone at the Counseling Center, got a parking ticket, and (will) graduate from college.

I've never felt so proud of myself for taking action to make myself better; normally, I'm so focused on extrinsic things I forget (or choose to forget, anyway) that there's a body and heart attached to this head. Though sneakers still bother my tingly/slightly numb/mildly tender feet and I'm not ready to wear rings yet, flip flops are wonderfully comfortable and my handwriting has improved drastically. Though I still get lost in building destructive walls, I'm learning to open the door for my friends even if they don't know it. Though I'm terribly scared about the next five years, let alone the next three months, of my life, my heart leaps with excitement about having my own walls to paint and my own towel colors to choose.

I'm squeezing the typical college experience I consciously chose not to have into the past two weeks, and am loving it (and with no regrets for my past decisions). Here's to dealing with self-constructed woes, focusing on friendships, and looking forward with optimism instead of apprehension to the future.