you know where I'll be - Tennessee

I thought of you all of yesterday.

I thought about what you looked like. I never got to see your dress, but I know you were the most beautiful bride ever. I wonder what your colors were and how your procession looked. I thought about your music and the food and every detail that you planned to make this day the most important one of your life.

I thought about your future life with him. I remember meeting him and sitting on my driveway at night. I hope he's the best man ever and will treat you as you deserve - but I'm pretty sure he will. You wouldn't have married him if he hadn't.

But I mostly think about how brave you are, and how I wish so much that I could be like you. I don't know how you found the delicate balance of courage, love and self-respect, but I am so sincerely proud of you. I don't know if I'll ever find it. I wish I could've been there to celebrate (because that's what weddings are for), but I know I'll see you eventually and we'll recap all the good and bad moments of your day.

I love you. Congratulations.

Friday Five

To celebrate being DONE with school!

Top 5 Things I Want to Do Over Break

1. Go snowboarding. I didn't go at all last season because of fucking South Pacific, and that will NOT happen again this break. I miss being on the mountain. And as lousy as I am at snowboarding, I still feel it's one of the only athletic things I am marginally successful at. I can only get better!

2. Clean Tim. If you haven't seen him lately, it's pretty disgraceful. I've got so much shit in my car, it's unbelievable. I could keep children in the back seat and no one would even know. I also plan to institute a "emergency bag" for Tim, consisting of those vital objects to survive if I needed to crash at someone's place and hadn't planned ahead.

3. Make my own stationary. I found the most beautiful paper that I'm going to use as a theme/color and I plan on making a set of notecards and envelopes that I will be able to whip out for those necessary thank you notes, as well as any items I might need to send to future employers, convincing them I am a classy person with classy stationary. Yes.

4. Play my guitar. I haven't touched it in literally months, which is depressing for such an expensive, gorgeous instrument. I've actually been mulling over writing a song lately, and for some reason I keep hearing it on guitar. We shall see.

5. Paint my room. I've been wanting to do this since I got my new furniture, but once school started, there was no chance in hell it would happen. I just need to find the right shade of blue...

my missed connection

title: I should've checked the door...

In Katzen, the women's room is on the left. In Bender, this is not the case.

I sincerely apologize for walking in on you, but I know I heard you laughing (whether out of embarrassment or amusement, I'm not sure).

Next time, I'll be more careful.

yes we can

Late for my group meeting for my final, I was finally on the road. I had worked all day at the Paper Source and barely said hello to my parents before I ran out the door. I had a list of five DVDs i needed to watch in the library (some full DVDs and others just clips) for tomorrow's final, plus I had to finish the study guide. I was trying to figure out how I would be able to photograph enough people and their tattoos to get my work submitted by this weekend. After I got off the phone with Leigh, I paid my toll, accepted my quarter, and got onto the Beltway.

That's when the tears started. I cried the whole way up, and it wasn't til I was about 15 minutes away from school that I got the sobbing under control.

It was quicksand - once I started, I kept bringing up every single thing that made me unhappy. Such topics included Kevin, David, my future (lack of) job, my supposed best friend, getting married and/or having children, my mom and stress over getting all the studying done.

I hate this. I hate doubting myself. I hate going to school, I hate this corporate University, I hate group projects. I'm so lonely. My half of my friends are leaving next semester. I miss having a boy hold me and hug me. I hate feeling like this is the rest of my life.

I'm so unhappy, and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this. No matter what I try, it just keeps sucking. I don't know what to do to make it better, I don't know what adjustments s to search out to make it (and me) better.

It only hit me as I was nearing AU that I still clutched my quarter in my left hand. The irony of it made me laugh out loud. I had the change, but I sure didn't have anything to fucking believe in.

but you and i know the reason why

This was not a good semester.

And I've heard this from almost everyone at AU. I blame it fully on the election. We, as a nation and specifically as a college in D.C., became so focused on everything going on in the world (which I don't necessarily begrudge us) and the future and the promises that we forgot about the present. Then to remember we were here for school, to learn, threw us for a curve.

Maybe that was the case for them, anyway.

For me, it was just... I think it was living off campus. That marked the biggest difference between this semester and the previous two. And it wasn't a bad change, necessarily, in fact, it was a vital one. But not being on campus really hurt my mentality as far as being a "college student." Granted, I probably would've hurt someone had I lived on campus for much longer, but... still. There is so much to be said for walking to class from your room. It became an ordeal to go to school. My ever-changing luggage was so heavy because I had to pack everything for the whole day - I didn't have that blessed room to run back to and grab different books or take power naps (instead I took them in my car while wearing my coat and mittens). And even though I had two homes now, I felt pretty fucking homeless.

This semester was not the huge step and eventual triumph my first one was. Nor was it the second semester, marked mostly by the emotional highs and lows that comes with having your first boyfriend and breaking up with him at the start of finals. It wasn't even like the summer semester, intense and lived on a ghost campus doing photo till my eyes bled (not a bad way to go). It is its own entity, but one that lacks any distinct hallmark. It will be remembered for being forgettable. It was painful, stressful and I am still debating if this is worth it. I hate college because of this semester, and I hate AU.

I can think of three good things to come out of this semester. And I suppose that will have to be enough.

Friday Five

With my track record thus far, Jansy suggested I just make this the Saturday Six. I some how don't think I'd be any better at it, then it'd go to the Sunday Seven, then the Monday... Million, and in the end, it all leads to smoking.

Top 5 Named Items

1. Wheezy: My old 850 Volvo. He was a dark blue box on wheels, named for his particular wheezing sound he made on his right side when it was cold and I started him. We endured a lot together, and in the end, my parents made me sell him. I now drive a gay Altima. It's not the same.

2. Curtis: my iPod, who is currently in his reincarnated state since the original started speaking in Chinese and had to be replaced. Thus named after Kurt Cobain, who I sort of went crazy over for a time during high school - and also partially for Curtis Goodnight, who was one sweet kid. I couldn't have come up with a better name for my rock'n'roll iPod if I tried.

3. Brent: My old D70. When I did that summer theater thing at Herndon High, there was this kid named Brent who made the most amazing faces. I tried to capture them with my old manual camera, but it was impossible. I used Brent as evidence for my need of a new camera - and it worked.

4. Sirius: My little white mac. Partially named for Sirius (the character in Harry Potter since my PC (an HP) is named... Harry Potter), partially named so when I got frustrated with said mac (after being a PC user all my life) I could yell, "SIRIOUSLY?!" and laugh.

5. Queen Elizabeth: My Garmin GPS. She speaks in British English and is pretty good at getting me places. My dad calls her Lizzy- I wouldn't do that unless pissed because you know those British- that stiff upper lip and all.

i somehow find that you and i collide

Tonight, I picked a fight with a friend.

It's a lousy excuse, but this fighting is sort of the backbone of our relationship. I've known this kid since eighth grade, and never have I met a more frustrating, egotistical and in general ridiculous person in my life. I've never trusted his words and have always done my best to keep his ego in check by pointing out all his flaws and/or his shit still smells like everyone else's.

Some friendship, huh?

I'm not writing this because I'm proud of it, I'm writing because I'm at a loss and can't bring myself to admit that I did anything wrong right now. On a night where I am trying to generate a hint of our old relationship (because lately he has only used me when he needs an emotional backbone), and I'm out of this world stressed with the amount of work I have due in the next four days, he pulls the same old shit, talking about nothing but himself and not asking a thing about me. How his full ride scholarship wasn't covering things, how he hurt his knee, how his classes are hard and how he could've been at MIT wracking up even more debt. I'd had enough.

I told him I scoffed at his supposed debt, when I paid to go to a $43,000 institution and his complaint that UVA raising their instate tuition prices wasn't going to garner any sympathy. I reminded him he was wait listed at MIT (the first time around) and that he had no right to complain about school after one semester, when I've been going to college for the last, oh, four years.

I was nasty. I was also angry, and to a degree, still am. I was looking for someone to bear the brunt of my misery (which at the start of the night had nothing to do with him), and he played into it. He will never understand that I don't give a fuck about his supposedly genius IQ or the difficulties of his life because sure, though he has had it pretty rough, you can't use that shit as a fucking crutch for the rest of your God damn life. I care that he makes excuses, I'll never forget that night he forced me and that he never talks to me unless he needs something and the minute I show interest in being friends again, he'll disappear.

I was there too many times for him to deal with this bullshit. It's been a long time coming, and I'm not sorry it's over.