216
Change? Really? I don't see much changing.
Amanda did bring me a blanket, so I'm warm at least, and well-caffeinated. Still having a hard time staying awake, but well-caffeinated. And there is chocolate, which I will have some of now. I need it.
- where are you...:The Lounge, Evans Hall
Mostly though, being at home is a difficult adjustment. On the one hand, I got to see my midgets yesterday. Amiah's hair is so long now, and she's talking alot more than she used to. Her vocabulary has gotten bigger too, which made me terribly happy. Calvin was baptized Sunday, and the top of his head is closer to being level with my shoulder than my elbow now. The opposite was true when I left in August. I hadn't realized how much I missed them till Amiah launched herself at me and asked "Where did you go?" Calvin's more straightforward statement -- "You're not supposed to be here." -- was less endearing in nature. Or it would have been to someone else maybe, but it made me feel good.
On the other hand, the tension around Pasfield's pretty nasty. Aside from the midgets, church was very strange. I've gotten used to going with Amanda, and while the kids held almost all my attention, it was a little disorienting. I was afraid of being questioned too closely, lest someone ask if I've been going to church and where. Reverand Jackson did ask, but mostly he just encouraged me to visit Bethel when I was there. We weren't there long enough to start any real conversations, so that was alright. still, I dunno what to say to anyone anymore. I spend alot of time trying not to make it really obvious that I don't wanna hug people.
I've also been shying away from mum like a wary cat who expects to have hot grease thown at it. We argued in the car--serious, yelling, vicious, name-calling, lifestyle-attacking type arguing--and then she immediately acted like it hadn't happened. Mostly, though, I can feel my skin crawling being here. I know it shows, and I should try harder not to be so obvious about it, but the things that I manage to cover up aren't the things that made it most obvious, like my flinching when anyone touches me or disappearing for long periods of time, and then spending the rest of my time in the basement. In additiion to looking hideously maladjusted on paper, I feel pretty skeezy about it too.
5 days left. It could be much worse, and I know that. And I'm not unhappy, really, just feeling a bit strange. Out of place is the right term for it. It's silly - 5 days isn't a very long time. And quite frankly, I'd feel a good deal worse about it, but I can sleep whenever I like, and the food is always good. I'm not too skuffed about all of it.
- where are you...:The Basement on Pasfield
- can you feel it...:
wrung out - can you hear it...:Til The End Of Time - Devotchka
I'm hideously tired, but I can't get to sleep. For some reason, I missed Amanda this weekend. I've been having a great time, and I'll get to see her later today. It feels strange, but I keep thinking of her. I feel like I'm not quite allowed to miss her, as it has been 2 days, and the idea is really kinda silly. Still, it's there, and that feels odd. Thinking about it, we have spent most of our weekends together. We've even gotten into the habit of sleeping in the same bed, which makes it harder when we don't have that chance, because if you share a cloak in winter, then you'll do it in the spring, and it isn't always appropriate. I really dislike the thought that I might be starting to depend on her, or the idea of her at least.
I'm not used to feeling like this. I'm not used to caring.
- where are you...:Chicago, Jess' Place
- can you feel it...:
unnerved - can you hear it...:Ice Cream - Sarah McLachlan
It fucks with my mind the way that people stare, have even pointed and hollered. Nothing makes one so vain as being told one is a sinner, I know, but it doesn't work that way all the time. The looks on people's faces still get under my skin. But ignoring the stupid shit and being happy in spite of other people is the point, no? As viciously insensitive and cruel as I can be when I put my mind to it, I can't wish on anyone any ill-will. They dunno me, I dunno them, and being overly sensitive doesn't get anyone anywhere. I know this is all part and parcel of being queer, and I'm upset with myself for letting it bother me. People have lived harder lives than mine and been just fine. And Amanda makes me so fucking happy. It's new and hard to describe, but she's lovely and snarky and sweet and smart, and I'm lucky. I know that. I could spend a long time describing her, but the reality is better than what I could write down, so now isn't the time for that.
This entire situation has my head spinning. I'm not sure I've felt like this before. The only thing to do here, really, is to shut up and be happy about the good things. Everything else is just pointless and unimportant. I'd say I'm praying for maturity, but praying has never gotten me anywhere, and maturity keeps coing around accidentally without being asked. Clearly keeping one's head on straight is the only true key to survival.
- where are you...:Busey, Room 406
- can you feel it...:
anxious - can you hear it...:God Can Explain - Splendor
I've never been this uncomfortable with being unhappy before. It's a strange situation. I pray for more maturity, as well as a deus ex machina. The first one to show up gets a cookie.
- where are you...:Busey, Room 406
- can you feel it...: anxious
- can you hear it...:The Burn - Matchbox 20
School is out, and I am looking for a job. Hopefully, I will be successful. I'd rather not re-live the ghastly experience that was last summer. Things are different already, for several reasons.
1. My room is spotless.
2. So is the kitchen.
3. As well as the bathroom, because I have begun to clean obsessively in my free time.
4. I do not have Kai to hang out with.
5. I've begun studying for next semester's classes now.
6. Despite all of this, I am hopeful.
It could be al great deal worse. Mostly I'm sick of having only myself to hangout with. It gets old after a very short while, and it will be a very long summer. Summer is my favorite time of year, with all the sun, and the heat and the lazy, heavy air, but I don't have any playmates to enjoy it with. The sooner I find a job, the sooner I will meet new people, and that means the definite possibility of new friends. So I better get on that employment thing.
- where are you...:Lincoln Public Library
- can you feel it...:
slowly losing my mind - can you hear it...:Bitter End - Placebo
The first load of my stuff goes home today. The summer is creeping up on me. My television, dvd player, vcr, microwave, laundry, and odds and ends all go home now. Apparently, there is a present waiting for me when I get home. I'm excited. It's a purse, very small, but some designer name. My mum got it for me somewhere and I appreciate it, even if it isn't something I would ever choose for myself.
The heavy, ominous footsteps that are echoing through the air is the summer lumbering steadily toward me. Oh god.
- where are you...:Wardall Hall, Room 518
- can you feel it...:
chipper - can you hear it...:Bitter End - Placebo
You know that feeling you get when you're trying to stay on top of things, but as hard as you try nothing much happens. I'm there fight now. Why is it that I cannot keep my head screwed on? I'm supposed to choreograph a minute of "Diamond Dogs" by Beck, the David Bowie cover from Moulin Rouge! and I have next to nothing. Perhaps I shouldn't have waited this long, but then again I've been studying for finals.
I want a nice distraction from all of this. I would prefer something living and breathing, very person-shaped, but I will take an asteroid or fire at this point. A nice big fire that consumes a building or two on the quad and fucks up the finals schedule, I could deal with that.
Brains, everywhere. My uncharitability is anything but becoming. I really ought to get to work.
- where are you...:Wardall Hall, Room 518
- can you feel it...:
gloomy - can you hear it...:The Seed (2.0) - The Roots
After an hour of blasting Placebo and being extremely hungry, I've reached that point where I'm sitting somewhere over my left shoulder, watching myself. I took my first final earlier today, which was actually Friday. Time is slipping through the hourglass.
That's the thing that gets me. I'm so out of it that I'm just watching.
I found a can of chicken noodle soup. The noodles taste rather a lot like the can they came in, but it mostly liquid anyhow, which is extremely appealing. But that isn't the point. This may well be the best noodle-soup I've ever had--yes it is that good and I am that hungry--but that doesn't change anything. That is not the point.
A few weeks ago, I met a guy at a party, and then I didn't see him again. And then one day I did see him again, and not too long after that we went for a walk in the cemetery, and I'm interested in this Mystery White Boy, who is very smart and very scatter-brained and rather sexy. He isn't interested in me. But that is not the point.
I've started stretching my ears. At the moment I'm only at a 14 gauge, since my ears are stubborn and Lunchbox, the man who was installing them, refused to put in 10 gauges after he realized my ears were not so elastic as he had first thought. I will be getting my tragus pierced before the summer starts. I'm excited. But that is not the point either.
When did my life decide to hollow itself out without my knowledge? I've been coasting for ages.
- where are you...:Wardall Hall, Room 518
- can you hear it...:Queen of the Surface Streets - Devotchka
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