So… there’s this boy, right? A guy I work with. Let’s call him K. I think he’s pretty effing amazing. ‘Nuff said.

Just kidding.

So K. I started working with him one week after my 23rd birthday, and I immediately liked him. At first, things were a little awkward, kind of, because he’s so much more mature than most of the people I work with, or come into contact with in my line of work. I’ve spent some time trying to get to know him, but we only work together, and he doesn’t eat in the cafeteria unless he’s working, and even then it’s not all the time.

I shouldn't post this, because this is actually him, but here he is. I think he's lovely.

We’ve been having lots of conversations; some silly, some philosophical, some about our pasts, some about our futures. I’ve kind of had a thing for him for quite a while, so yeah. Oh, and he’s Indian. Like, from India, Indian. On Friday the 13th, a bunch of my coworkers (most of whom are international students from India, Pakistan, or Ghana) and I went to see 2012, and it was AMAZING! Anyway, when we got there, I was hanging out with another friend, who we’ll call R, for the sake of clarity. R is another American girl, but she’s been dating an Indian guy for a while now. K wasn’t there, and I wasn’t sure if he was coming, so I went and sat with R and her boyfriend. We sat in the top row of the theater, and I was (not-so-subtly) watching the entrance, waiting to see if he’d show. When he got there, he waved up at me and blew me a kiss (EH???), which I kind of laughed about with R. So I went down and stopped a few steps above him to talk to him. He was waiting for more people to come in from buying their tickets, so I stepped down so we were standing side by side. When I got down there, he said, “Oh good, now you’re on my level so I can talk to you better.” I hadn’t said goodbye to R, but I decided I wanted to sit with K and whoever he was waiting for. Sorry, R!

As it turns out, there were, like, fourteen people in his party, so we all trekked up the stairs to find seats. K gestured me into the row first, then followed me and sit down next to me. His friends followed behind them, but when there weren’t enough seats, they all got up and moved to a different row so that they could all sit together. All of them except K, that is. I leaned over and said, “I think your friends all just got up and moved. Do you want to go too?” And he said no, that was fine, he’d stay where he was. So… okay with me!

We talked about the previews as the movie was getting ready to play, and some of them looked really good. I know this sounds cheesy, but I really wanted to hold his hand, but seeing as how I hadn’t made a move yet, I wasn’t about to in a movie theater! That was probably fine, though, because I spent most of the movie with my hands over my mouth, trying not to yell at the movie… which I ended up doing anyway. It was really that good, that I forgot to stay quiet during the movie. K didn’t seem to mind, though, and when I asked him later, he said it hadn’t bother him. We talked a bit after the movie, just small-talk, and then I went home. We both had to be at work the next day, and since we worked in the same station, it was kind of like an “Okay, see you in a few hours” kind of thing.

At work the next day, I didn’t really talk to him much for a while, ’cause I was feeling kind of awkward about having yelled at the movie a few times, and sitting so close to him in the dark with our legs touching, and I wasn’t really sure if something had happened between us that I had missed (doubtful). But everything seemed fine. We talked and laughed and goofed off like we usually do when we’re bored and alone at the grill, and it was all cool. Our encounters have continued to escalate in (maybe not-so) innocent flirting, and I almost winked at him this week in front of all our coworkers. I think I covered it quickly, and just kind of closed my eyes entirely, smiled real big, laughed, and went to find my seat. He came down and spoke wiht me for a minute, then went back to work. So everything’s cool.

I’ve been flirting (heavily) with him for quite a while as I said, but trying not to do so in front of other people. Basically, this is because K is Indian, as I have mentioned, and intercultural relationships can be super tricky. As a friend put it, “One culture’s ‘come hither’ is another’s ‘no way Jose’.” Good point, that. He seems to be reciprocating the attention and behavior, and if he was American, I’d say he was definitely interested, but because he’s foreign, I’m not sure. I know that American women are more forward than women in most other parts of the world, and I don’t want to commit what would essentially amount to a cultural slap in the face, you know? I’ve been messaging R about her Indian boyfriend, and she’s agreed to give me some advice. She says this: “Because that is how it tends to happen in India- a guy won’t go for a girl unless she has shown some interest in him (this is to say that there is an interest there for this girl, of course). So yea…get him interested, but let him do the asking you know?”

Okay, I can do that. I’ve put myself out on a limb so often that I’m pretty much done with asking the guy first. And it seems like he’s interested, so does that mean that I can safely express my interest in him??? Because I’ve been doing that, trust me. I’m so confused! I guess I’ll just sit on this situation for a while until I can make heads or tails of it all. R also said, “I would say be cautious, because Indian men tend to have high standards/expectations of women, but at the same time just be yourself and see where things go! “. And that’s fine too. I’ve got plenty of time, and I’m not willing to screw this up so early in the game.

I just know that I feel a connection there. K and I have talked about things that I would not usually be comfortable talking about with someone I didn’t know very well, but those conversations have definitely occurred: philosophy, religion, our pasts, presents, and futures, and where we want to go with our lives from here. I feel like there’s something there, and I’m a coward to say anything to guys in general, but especially now! Why couldn’t he just be American, and it would be so much easier to understand? But I’ve always been attracted to two types of guys: exotic foreigners, and home-grown all-American boys. There’s really no middle ground for me, which is odd, but yeah.

I’ve got it bad for this guy. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a crush on a guy this fast, especially since I really only get to spend any time at all with him, like, one day (five hours) per week. He’s about my age (a year and a half older), but so much more grown up than most 24-year-old men I know (and probably more so than I am, too), and it’s refreshing that we can have intelligent conversations but still joke around a lot. Cait says she thinks it’s admirable that I’m trying to figure out how to interact with him in a culturally-appropriate manner (by asking around, buy also reading online about the culture and such from his part of India), but that I don’t need to try too hard, because as much as I feel the need to understand his culture, he should be aware of how our culture works, and that yeah, we women are more forward here. That’s true, but still. Better safe than sorry, you know? I’ve been to enough of the non-US world to understand that generalizing from culture to culture is a dangerous endeavor, and I’m going to at least try to be culturally aware, anyway.

So! This leaves me in a strange situation. Go for the guy, or hang out and hope he gets it? Alas, the eternal conundrum! Anyway, so yeah, that’s the situation. I’m going to try to get together with R next week, since she’s from STL, too, and maybe we can talk about… things. I know that every person and every relationship is different, but it’d be nice to know about the major pitfalls of “open mouth, insert foot” moments that I don’t have to experience to comprehend, especially from a girl who’s living it every day. But yeah, we’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.

G’night world. And g’night K.

So I had a huge test today in my social psych class. The first one I got, like, a 75-ish%, so I wasn’t feeling terribly hopeful on this one. Turns out, I got a 94% on this one! Almost 1 full standard deviation above the mean! Yay! This makes me very happy. This also makes my grade in that class 89.86%. I mean, really? But okay, whatever.

I tried to go to sleep a little early so I could get up a little early in the morning to edit a paper for class. It turns out that after less than two hours, I woke up, and stayed awake. >:( Now I’m pissed. And kind of want to cry. I don’t want to take something to help me sleep because then I’ll probably sleep too long in the morning. I’m up in the middle of the night, and if I had my own place, I’d go running with Mike around campus or something, but instead I’m in the DORM! Now, I could go running on the track (which is literally right next door) but at the beginning of the semester there was a message sent out that a girl had been accosted going to her car at night. She maced the guy and got away safely, but I’m more than a little paranoid, so here I sit. I could go for a drive, but I want to go see my friend John next week (who lives in CoMO) so I shouldn’t waste all my gas driving around in circles, even thought it’s what I want to do. Gas is too expensive to want to have to buy a lot more of it if I don’t have to. I just REALLY hope I get to see John. I miss him like whoa, and talking to him on the phone yesterday just won’t cut it.

*sigh* I’m too wound up to want to work on that stupid paper, but still tired. Maybe I’ll just have a snack and hang out. My day was awesome, but the night sucked. Thanks, sleep.

…there’s some ringing sound coming from the hallway, and it almost sounds like a fire alarm’s trying to go off. Investigation time…

It pulsed a few times, but never really rang. That’s dumb, and it had better not ring for real. It’s 1:00 in the morning, and heads will roll. Literally. We did that that one time at Truman, and it was NOT FUNNY!

P.S. I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my homonyms today: vein-vain, waste-waist, ring-wring, roll-role. I must be losing my touch. Or my mind. Whatever.

Very tired today. I slept quite literally almost all day. I feel like poo. Complex sentences are beyond me at this point. Blah. I hope I’m not getting sick.

Since I had a horrendous headache in the car, I wanted to find some good classical music, so I scanned on my radio until I found something that fits the bill. I’d forgotten how much I love classical music. (Currently I’m listening to Autumn, F Major / Adagio Molto, from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons – it’s soothing. Spring is just too much right now.) Well, what I settled on was a fabulous radio station. It’s KCUR Kansas City, and I caught a radio show called Hearts of Space. The tagline is that it’s “Slow music for fast times,” and with the kind of day I had today, I needed it. I had to go do stats homework this evening with a pounding headache, and for whatever reason, the library has two industrial-sized (no kidding) fans blowing out of the main computer lab where I do my SPSS homework. (Oh, that I had SPSS on my computer, but it’s very expensive!) The noise was deafening, and all I wanted was some quiet sound, slow, low-pitched, serene. When I came across HoS, it was perfect. They play mostly piano music, and the stuff tonight was very mellow. I’m pleased. I’d be more pleased if I could listen to it online for free, but yeah.

Oh, and I did my entire stats assignment wrong and didn’t realize it until I went to send the e-mail to my professor with my homework attached. I had to start over. O.O I was not amused, although from the way I felt my face contorted, I probably had this maniacal, serial-killer, not-quite-all-there look on my face. It was a good thing I was sitting at a computer facing a wall, or it could’ve been weird. For other people. I’d forgotten to take my sunglasses in with me, so.

I’ve been having super-vivid dreams lately, like, where I can’t tell they’re dreams, and even when I wake up I have a hard time telling what was real and what was REM-induced. It’s weird. I may need to do something to wear myself out every day so I can sleep deeper and hopefully dream less. We’ll see if I can come up with something.

Now I have some things to get accomplished. I’m tired, but because I slept probably 17 of the last 24 hours, I probably won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep. *sigh* I have class at 10. I’d better try to fake sleep, at least for a while.

Oh, and I’ve determined that green is not a good color on me, unless it is to bring out my eyes…

Edit: As I was saving my stats homework (remember, I’d done it wrong the first time because I didn’t read the directions close enough), all I could think of was RTFM, which, for computer-savvy people/programmers, means Read The F***ing Manual. Then I realized the file was saved as a rich-text format… RTF. How ironic.

I wish I knew some of these kids, but I don't.

Let me start off by saying that I. HATED. HIGH SCHOOL. Period.

UCM had a high school marching band festival today (well, yesterday, but whatever). I made a brief appearance before scurrying back to my room to take a nap between my work shifts. In that short time, I suddenly remembered how much I LOVED marching band in high school. I think the only things I would even consider going back for are marching band; the AMAZING choir (Concert Choir) I was a part of for three years; hanging out with my best friends J, C, M, A, and JS, among others; naïvete; innocence; when J wasn’t acting like a jerk to my face; show choir; and not knowing how much hate really exists in the world. But hey, what are you gonna do? It makes me want to pick the clarinet back up and join the band next fall. It’ll be the last chance I get to do such a thing, and while unlikely, I do miss it, very much. *sigh* If I could go back to high school for select bits and pieces, that would be perfect.

This guy at work yesterday completely flipped out and starting yelling at me, another coworker, and a manager on the line, in front of customers. Basically, I was told by a different manager to serve food that was going bad, and I refused. This guy got mad because she trained him and he felt that I should listen to her. I said that was fine, but I’d rather lose my job than serve bad food: I’d probably lose it anyway if I make fifty people sick. He said to the other guy on the line, “You’d just better stay away from me. It’ll be safer for you that way.” Now, this guy is a former preacher in a black Pentecostal church. I couldn’t believe a person would say such a thing, especially someone who claims to know the word of God! He harbors so much hate in his heart, always having a chip on his shoulder about something: me making a non-hostile comment about the president, making a non-hostile comment about black people in general (I want to learn to be more like them, I don’t hate them!), the economy… you name it, it just makes him fly off the handle! I don’t understand.

Another black guy from the same church (also a former preacher) told me that he thinks there are people in this world who are destined to go to Hell, and there’s nothing that can be done about it, and that he thinks George W. Bush is one of them. Now, fine, whatever, hate the former president. Personally, I think you should respect whoever’s in office because of the office, even if you don’t like the person. I don’t want the people in power to fail just because I voted for someone else: that’s like cutting off your nose to spite your face (STUPID). And I *do* respect President Obama because he’s the president, and that’s enough. But it made me wonder how another former preacher would basically tell me that the blood of Jesus isn’t capable of saving everyone, even if they want to be saved. How hypocritical!

I haven’t made an appearance back at that church since the George W. Bush conversation, and at this rate, I probably won’t ever again. When I first started going to that church, I felt accepted, and that there was peace and love in that church. But now… with people acting like that, how in the WORLD could I want to spend time with people so negative all the time? They don’t have love: they have hate in their hearts, and I don’t want anything to do with that. My mom put it this way: I’ve become intolerant of other people’s intolerance. She was right. God is love, not for people of your own race or political affiliation or church, but for everyone. It’s just frustrating. I really liked that church, but I refuse to be around people who dwell on the negative so much that they repel strangers. I won’t do it. Frankly, I expected better, but people are stupid, and I don’t know why I keep forgetting that. But whatever.

Sometimes I get emo. What else is new?

Sometimes it makes my heart hurt to see my friends happy, specifically when I want to be happy with them but they’re being happy with someone else. B was such a huge part of my life for so long, and now he’s dating another B. I love her to death, too, but I don’t think she’s good enough for him, and don’t understand why they’re together in the first place. It just hurts too bad to feel like seeing them, or even reading their FB profiles, which is disappointing. I have no claim to him, or reason to tell her to stop dating him, but it still bothers me. And you’re sitting there one day eating your corned beef sandwich and this pair of breasts walks by and smiles at you, and you’re like, “That’s not fair.” But in a perfect world, a miracle would happen, and every other girl would fly away, and it’d be me and Kathy, and nothing else would matter, but it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine… It’s a man talking about being tempted to cheat on his wife, which he doesn’t end up doing, but that’s how I feel. B walks by and smiles at me (or hugs me or runs to me yelling my name or compliments me or acts really glad to see me (but it’s really not an act – he loves me in his own way, it’s just not the way I want) or WHATEVER he’s doing that day) and I’m like, “That’s not fair.” But it’s fine, it’s fine, IT’S FINE! I guess… There’s nothing I can do about it anyway, so blah. I’ll just smile and be as happy for them as I can pretend to be.

I got the strongest urge to go to 1000 Hills today. I found another state park about fifteen minutes from here, and I think I’ll go tomorrow or the next day. It’d be nice to see nature and brightly-colored, crunchy leaves on the ground… before Missouri buries us in snow for winter hibernation.

I am through episode 14 of season 1 of Queer as Folk. I like it, strangely enough. Who’d have thought I’d like a program about promiscuous homosexuals? But it’s the tolerance thing again. I’m trying to learn to accept everyone, even people who think VASTLY different than I do. It’s a healthy way to be, I think.

And now, to bed. I’m going to try to get up and go to church in the morning, so I should probably sleep for a few hours first. At this rate, a very few. G’night, world.

Haha, oops. i wuz bad.

I’m not really a big fan of posting the same thing to two different sites. I mean, isn’t the point to share different things in different forums? However, since I just spent 2.5 hours typing this entry into I Learn Something New, I feel it is appropriate and acceptable to copy and paste for the time being. Blah blah, here’s the entry.

This is a thing I learned long ago, but bears repeating once in a while: I can’t keep up with online blogs and such. Sorry. I am finally caught up, and I promised Cait that I’d update here when I was, so yeah.

Anyway, I’ve learned lots of things in the last two months, good and bad, and that’s not counting classes. Just good life stuff. Here it goes (and most of these are going to need a lengthy explanation, so get ready).

Las cosas buenas:

• The biggest thing, and perhaps the most important so far, is that despite what people will tell you, and how much they will try to convince you that professors (especially at the graduate-school level) are evil, soul-crushing bastards, they’re really not. They’re human, too, and very capable of acting like it. I had five assignments due in the last two weeks, three of which were late, and one of those was a week late. My professors from those classes accepted my work without deducting points for lateness. The reasons I was given: 1) “It happened to me too in the last few weeks, so I decided not to take off points. Hopefully I’ll be caught up in the next week, too.” and 2) “I got a message that you missed last week for personal reasons, and I figured the late homework might be because of that same reason, so I opted not to take off points.” I think I’m in love with these people, real people, who understand that life happens, and sometimes it’s okay. Lesson: PhDs are people too.
• I have another food-service job that I’m absolutely IN LOVE with, even if not with all my coworkers. I missed the thrill of the rush, and even though I’m just (literally) flipping burgers and running fryers, it’s fulfilling enough for the moment, those fifteen hours per week added on top of school, and it keeps me entertained. “Idle hands…” and all that. Lesson: There are apparently two phases in my life: working food service, and about to be working food service. Ad nauseum.
• I can indeed still lose weight when I really want to. I know that most of the times I’ve tried in the last few years, I didn’t really want to do it, because all of a sudden, I’ve lost thirteen pounds in the last month. I “diet” or whatever about four or five days a week, and eat whatever I want (within reason) the other two or three days. Lesson: I’m going to look fabulous very soon.
• Somewhere along the way, I’ve almost completely stopped criticizing myself. I’m not sure why, or what changed, but it’s been cool. I think that, because I’m happy here, for the first time in perhaps a very long time, I like myself more. Lesson: I’m happy. And that’s great, because…
• MEN HAVE STARTED NOTICING ME!!! And it’s lovely! There’s this beautiful man from work named Sky who flirts shamelessly with me, and it’s a nice feeling… and there are more. A random stranger (either black or mixed) told me I had beautiful eyes today, and that I must have gotten lucky with the good genes because he wishes he had my green eyes. Whoa, mama! What’s up with that? Not that I’m complaining, but DANG! And he was beautiful, too. Another guy I work with, who’s from Pakistan, told me today that he’s very surprised that I’ve never had a boyfriend because I’m intelligent (which he listed first – nice) and well-spoken, among other things. Then he said, “You should go out,” to which I replied, “I’m going to, as soon as I can!” Duh. Lesson: The male half of my species may, in fact, have a chance of liking me. Wow.
• I’m doing well in school, far better than I’d hoped back in July when I realized I was coming to school in the fall, and far better than I had done at Truman in a long while. I’m not loving living in the dorm, but it’s nice that the federal government is supplying me with a place to live and a meal plan that is to die for (at least until I have to pay back those loans, but with the amount of time I’m going to be in school, I’ll be dead before it becomes time to repay those). Lesson: I’m not a complete idiot.
• I learned how to copy obtain music from the internet, and have greatly added to my music library songs that I have never heard by bands I have never heard but really like (Lamb, Vedera, Des’ree, Amy MacDonald, Thom Yorke, etc.). Lessons: I apparently still don’t feel bad about not having paid for this music, but it’s really good, so yay.
• Queer As Folk isn’t actually that bad. Lesson: ‘Nuff said,
• I can work a QWERTY keyboard on a cell phone. Wow. Lesson: My fingers aren’t as ungraceful as I’d thought.
• Amanda and John had their baby! Welcome to the world, baby James! He’s a month old already. Yikes! I can’t wait to meet him! Lesson: Babies deserve every sentence about them to end with exclamation points! !!!
• I had a birthday. Yes, I’m 23. w00t. I did spend my birthday alone in my room that night, though, which was sad, but yeah. Megan sent me a card, and I still felt loved. Lesson: Birthdays become quieter as you get older, but it’s okay. People still love you.
• I have a topic and direction for my thesis. Yay! I think. It’s going to take some hammering out, but at least I have some idea of where I might be going next. Lesson: The M.S. may still be possible for me to obtain.
• Piled Higher and Deeper. Since I didn’t get my BullSh*t in psychology (I got my BA, or, as cdean would call it, my BadA$$), the MS (more of the same) sounds really cool, therefor meaning that the thing that is, in fact, getting PhD (piled higher and deeper) is a good thing. Thanks, Margot. Lesson: Never get your BS when a BA will do just as well. It sounds cooler when you get to those advanced degrees.
• My professors have been having department-wide parties at their houses. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never been in a place where it was cool to fraternize with your professors outside the school setting, much less hanging out with them at their house, but next Friday we’re having a Halloween party at Dr. Marsh’s house. Lesson: I don’t know. I’m at a loss on this one.
• I can fly, but I want his wings. I can shine, even in the darkness, but I crave the light that he brings, revel in the songs that he sings… my angel, Gabriel. Lesson: Lamb is good, and I’m not talking about the OTHER other white meat.

Y ahora, las cosas malas: (but I’m not going to focus on these too much – I’m in a good mood and don’t particularly want to change that fact)

• Never, but NEVER hang out with a married man alone! There’s a guy in my program here (let’s just call him D for now) who is married. Okay, that’s cool. He’s 37. No problem. He’s been in the military, stationed in Korea, and his wife of four years is still there, and won’t make it stateside until December or January. *yawn* He’s verging on being pushy with me, wanting me to spend time with him and go places with him. Not so cool, but as long as his wife is okay with me hanging out with him (which he assured me she was) that’s still okay-ish. D lied to her about it, and she is not, in fact, okay with it… EPIC LIFE FAIL!!! I hate being lied to, because I’m very naïve, and don’t often know when people are lying to me (and I can’t really lie to other people very convincingly, so!), so when I find out I’ve been lied to, I feel ultimately betrayed. The thing I think I would value most in a relationship (whenever I finally get into one) is honesty, and the fact that D has lied to his wife (more than once, if I’m right) about ME? Not cool, man. And the fact that he’s gotten loud and forceful about it makes me suspicious. I understand, she’s from an Asian culture and is naturally more submissive, because that’s what her culture expects of women, but I am an American woman, and have a few more cojones than other women. I don’t back down very often, certainly without a reason, but sometimes I feel… not threatened, exactly… but like I need to avoid conflict and just go with it. I mentioned it to an older friend, and she said she wonders what it is about him that makes me act different like that, and she said something profound that I hadn’t thought of: Maybe I subconsciously know something about D that would make me act out of character around him, and not want to deny him. For me, it’s just friendship, and I’m not sure what it means to D, but I categorically refuse to be *that* woman, the one who comes between a man and woman. Home-wrecking is not a talent I want added to my resumé, thank you very much! There was an incident in particular, on October 5, where he made me go out to eat with him. We had gone to a winery with some of the faculty and other graduate students, and I had never been there so I rode with D. He grew up in the area, so he knew where he was going. He had some to drink while there, but I didn’t touch any (not really a big fan of wine), and he asked if I would feel okay with driving back to campus. I said that was fine, but since the cafeterias were going to be closed by the time we got back, he promised to take me to get some food, like drive-thru fare. I politely declined, but on the way back, he started insisting that we stop and get real food – he wanted Applebee’s, which is a little more pricey than I was comfortable with having him spend on me, but he started putting me on a guilt trip about how he really wanted to eat there, and would be making him eat there alone if I didn’t go with him, and how could I? I know by now that if I’m not comfortable with something, it’s probably the wrong thing to be doing, but I relented and we went there. He kept drinking. It was ridiculous! We ended up being there late, and we both had class in the morning, and homework due, and yeah, I had fun with him, but it was while we were out (and he was well-wined) that he admitted to lying to his wife about me. I kind of laughed it off, but when I got home I gave it a good long thought, and realized that if D was willing to lie to a woman halfway around the world to spend time with me away from people we knew, just the two of us, he might be thinking something different than I was. I really haven’t talked much to him since then, not unless I had to, and have only spent time with him around our classmates, but that’s tough because we’re on the same research team and have, literally, all the same classes together (small program = limited course options). *sigh* I don’t think that D should have to spend all his time alone just because he’s married, but I think that dishonesty is unacceptable, and I feel like I’m running around with a married man behind his wife’s back (even though I know I’m NOT), and that’s not a feeling I’m cool with. We’ll see, but yeah. Lesson: I promised not to dwell on the negatives too much, but this one bears repeating, too: Never, but NEVER hang out with a married man alone! The rest are short. No worries.
• Bills. Lesson: They don’t stop just because I’m in school. Suck.
• My rings are getting too big. Between the weight loss and the cold, sometimes I lose them. Lesson: It’s not really bad, but it’s inconvenient.
• My RNC water bottle exploded in my bag this week, fortunately right after I’d pulled my computer out of it, but dang, it was close. Lesson: Never let Libertarians give you political paraphernalia! Jk, Cait. I loved it until it exploded. I’ll miss the little blue elephant staring at the guy behind me in stats class.
• The mess in my room is about to go on the attack, and it’s making me nuts. Lesson: Stop coming home and passing out every day, and clean the room once in a while.
• Yeah, I’m still a procrastinator. Blah blah blah. Lesson: Some things never change.
• My suitemate has been coughing like crazy the last several days, and I know she doesn’t wash her hands every time she goes to the bathroom (or wipe, and she regularly tinkles on the seat – GAH!!!), and so the germ situation in our shared bathroom isn’t helping my phobia of all things gross. Lesson: People are gross. Now, why did I ever stop believing that, again?
• ¡Yo echo de menos de España como loca! Ay, que era allí ahora misma. Que triste. Lección: Nunca vayas a un lugar que te encanta y espere quedarte el mismo. ¡Nunca!

Well, this is all I can think of for now. I’ll write more later, and hopefully I can keep up this time.

Y ahora… ¡¡¡A DORMIR!!!

Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember, things my heart used to know, things it years to remember, and a song someone sings...

I rediscovered my LiveJournal today, and I forgot how much I loved it. Especially the part where it asked you what you were currently listening to, and you could choose an icon picture with a label attached to say how you were feeling. My entire set is of Roswell stills, and it’s still lovely, even though I haven’t written there in almost a year and a half. Good stuff.

Here’s a dream I had on the morning of April Fool’s Day (and it was really a trick on me, I tell you). It’s very similar to what I’ve been feeling lately, with my dreams being haunted by random boys and thoughts of the past. This no longer elicits painful memories, just a vague sense of amusement. Enjoy my “Quantum Leap” dream:

I had a dream this morning, which is pretty common for me. In this dream, as is also common, I got everything I wanted, and although it wasn’t easy, it was worth all the struggle it took to get there. I’d like to write it down so I don’t forget (not likely) all the details. My dreams tend to be a little scattered, so here goes what I remember.

B and I were hanging out at school, which happened to be TBHS for some odd reason. He had been trying to catch up with me to talk to me or something, but he was being really playful and so was I, so it took a bit for our game of cat-and-mouse to play out. When he caught up to me, I was standing on a chair, and he rushed in, pretending to be all out of breath and exhausted. He flung himself toward me in what was supposed to be a last-surge-of-strength kind of move, but instead of falling, he threw his arm around my neck and kissed my cheeks and forehead several times. Then he dropped one on my lips, and I knew that was what he had intended all along. He started to pull away and I put my right hand on his back, my left hand on the back of his neck, tangled it in his hair, pulled him back to me, and started kissing him again. It was sweetly heaven. His hair was real long again, not like it is now, all very short (I never really cared for his hair long, but in my dream, it was erotic beyond measure). And we kissed, and it was love. A little later on, we were at this house (not sure where) and I discovered that I had some sort of superpowers. Then I discovered that so did he, and a whole bunch of other people. They had been sent out to find me and show me the truth of who I was before the enemy could destroy my ability to use my powers. The powers were activated by eating specific foods, each person’s necessary foods being different. While we all were there, while B and I were making out and cuddling, the enemy had found us and was on their way. I remember loving having my hand tangled in B’s hair, even when we weren’t kissing, and when I was reclining on the floor and he was laying across my lap with his head near my neck, he whispered into my ear something about birth control pills (that’s romantic!). I replied, “I’ve been on them for three and a half years. I beat you to it.” And he smiled and I smiled, but I wondered at that statement. Did he really think… No time to wonder long. The enemy showed up about then and tried to cut me off from my powers by putting some sort of chair-looking object over my head. I was the newest, perhaps the weakest, and they attacked me first, but all the others defended me, we escaped. B and I somehow jumped through space and time into enemy territory of decades past. We were speeding through the night, as if on a motorcycle, but there was no bike. It was just us, gliding over the ground, able to see in a circle of light around us. We knew we’d be in trouble if we were caught, and he mentioned that we’d not landed where we were supposed to, so we sped off toward the lights of safe haven. When we arrived, it was to Uncle Donald’s old house, which, in my time, had belonged to my grandmother, and where I had lived also for a time. B and I were safe for the time being, but we knew we had to stay on the move. We stayed with Uncle Donald for a few days, trying not to mess up the past too much so that the future would turn out okay. I loved this house and knew it well, because I had lived there for part of my childhood, which was now in the future. Uncle Donald and Aunt Beth were talking about how run-down the place was and how they’d love to sell it, but that nobody would buy it. I said that I would buy it in a heartbeat, if I could, because there I felt more at home than any other place on the earth. They looked very solemnly at me for a second, and then busted out laughing, saying they’d found a potential buyer. But then the enemy arrived and we had to take off again. My uncle and his family were safe. They had no powers, and were therefore of no interest to the enemy. B and I smiled at each other conspiratorially, and like the show “Quantum Leap” we were off again.

This is about where I woke up, melancholy and irritated. I don’t know why I keep having dreams like this. The last dream I had like this was over Christmas break, when I had one about D, sitting on a dock in New York City, where he, too, initiated the kissing and relationship. I just do not understand what is going on in there, unless it’s as is said, a dreams is a wish the heart makes when you’re fast asleep. I need sleep, and I like dreaming, but when these types of things happen, I’d almost rather not. I’ll hope for peace today, but I’m definitely wearing my ‘It sucks to be me’ shirt today.

I’ve definitely been a strange emo kid for a very long time. If my dreams weren’t there to torture me… Oh well. It just seems fitting lately, even though it’s a different time and place. *shrug* It’s good to look back at the past from time to time, to allow ourselves to feel and remember, once again, those experiences that shaped us so profoundly. I still know these guys, and still remember how cool the dream was, how fantastic, and can remember fondly the feelings the dream evoked without getting depressed. It’s an enjoyable reflection on things past. I’m content.

Listening to: Once Upon a December, from the Disney movie Anastasia

Me and J, 07/03/2003

This morning I dreamed of long-lost friends, some lost because of time passing, and some because of decisions made that separated us, not always mine. I dreamed that J was there, and oh, how much I miss him today. Not the J of today, but the J of six years ago, when I was sixteen and the world was still magic and puppy love was novel and excited. I’ve been having a lot of pain in my back lately, and in my dream he simply spoke kind words and platonically touched the back of my neck like he was going to work some of the tension from my shoulders (he was really good at that half a decade ago) and the dream-me literally almost fell to the floor. The memories… I miss his kind words, and his friendly touch, and when it wasn’t awkward to be near him, and even such a simple thing as his smile. Much of the dream centered around J, and my best girlfriend C, and the musical Les Misérables (which my high school performed fall 2003). There were specific songs in my dream (I Dreamed a Dream; One Day More (when the whole company is singing); On My Own; and Red and Black), and I remembered how poignant some of those songs were, and how many of them spoke to some part of my teenage soul. They still do, even as I approach twenty-three in October.

me and C, 10/10-11/2008

We had some good times, J and I, and I have many, so many good memories. And I miss J so much, and I wish he still cared to be my friend, and that things had never changed between us. He was my best guyfriend for far longer than I should have put up with his evolving crappy attitude a very long time, and I miss it and him, even knowing now what I know about the lack of reciprocity of our friendship. But we all long for our youth sometimes, when life seemed simpler and yes, the world was magic. I love him, but every day I’m learning all my life I’ve only been pretending. Without me, his world will go on turning… I love him, but only on my own. I don’t love him any longer, not that strange thing called puppy love of high school, but I do miss him profoundly, but that guy is gone, and I don’t know the stranger who wears his face.

A, me, M, and JS, 05/07/2005

I try hard not to be all emo without cause, but today was rather melancholy. Now, as I write, I feel my eyes pricking with tears, but I’m wasted enough of my tears thinking of J, and missing him, and regretting the past, and caring for him far more than he cared for me. They say you never forget your first love, and it’s true to an extent. We could never go back to being the people we were in high school, neither him nor me nor any other of my best friends. We’ve moved on, changed, and that’s as it should be, but it doesn’t make it easy to leave behind what was once a huge part of my life, and someone who was so dear a friend for so many years. But somewhere, now, as then, I could forget all that crap and still be his friend because he once mattered that much to me, and the impact he had on my life, and C and JS and A and M and all the other people who made me who I am… those are deep changes that time cannot erase.

And as much as it hurt, and sometimes still does, and as much as I feel like I gave way more than was given to me, I don’t regret the relationships that saw me through high school, and I would never part with my memories of my best friends from when our paradise was not yet lost.

Drink with me to days gone by – to the life that used to be. At the shrine of friendship never say ‘die’. Let the wine of friendship never run dry. Here’s to you, and here’s to me.

Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better? I do believe I’ve been changed for the better. But because I knew you… because I knew you, I have been changed. For good.

Emo Anakin XD

I don’t have much to write about today.

I didn’t finish my homework for this morning, but was able to kind of BS my way through the discussion. It is not something that I’m going to attempt again. It was a dumb move, not finishing all that in the last FIVE DAYS since we last met. I’m such a dumb bunny sometimes. So I should probably finish my homework for class tomorrow morning, even though I haven’t been in this class once. It’s a new class, and I never actually changed this course. Someone else did, and while that’s okay, I’m just confused. But okay.

My back and neck hurt today. My stupid Kinder Kare mattress here in the dorm is KILLING me. We can’t do this forever, kids. I mean, man. My whole room is great except for the stupid bed. Grrr!

I fell asleep to a two-hour analysis of the Star Wars saga. It was delightful. I don’t remember what I dreamed about, but it was SWS related, and I woke up in a really good mood. Yay! I’m such a nerd. Good line, in reference to Anakin Skywalker in Episodes II and III: “People say, ‘How can the empire’s greatest villain [Darth Vader] have been a whiny teenager?’ That’s how the empire’s greatest villain *would* start out! He’d be some whiny emo kid with issues.” That totally made my day. And made me want to watch all the movies again!

And I don’t know why I included the Horah in the title. It just seemed funny.

I'd bet her hips don't lie either. She said so, you know, that one time.

I’m tired, and it’s, like, midnight. Short entry.

I went to the black church here in town and had a grand time. It felt like home, and I loved meeting so many black or half-black people. I even made a few connections with the Pentecostals who work on campus who may be able to help me get jobs or other aide. Yay!

I managed to rotate my hips wrong this evening (I know better than to sit cross-legged on my bed for hours), and I’m in a ridiculous amount of pain. It happens, and there’s almost no way for me to (literally) straighten out my joints, and I absolutely CANNOT get comfortable for more than a few minutes tops. Grrr! Stupid hips.

And now all I can think of is Shakira.

Dunce Cap

Today, I had a completely non-awkward conversation with a black woman about how there are (almost) no white people who attend her church. I am very rarely able to have a comfortable conversation with people when I am trying to convey that I am not, in fact, white. I was looking for a Pentecostal church, and one of the churches I drove by had all the lights on and at least a dozen cars parked outside. So I went in! …And they were all black. Not a white person in sight (although there were many light-skinned black people, and a twenty-month-old biracial little girl).

I thought it was actually very cool, and maybe I can learn what it means to be black! I’m also trying to join some traditionally-black organizations on campus. I just want to be confident around black people and comfortable in talking about my racial background and experiences. I don’t want to feel like I’m white all the time. I want to feel biracial, because that’s who I am. The last few years have been filled with me trying to find my identity in the racially-polar Midwest. But that’s neither here nor there. I think I may have found my new church, though!

I spent much of the day sleeping. This week has been busy, a little rough, and emotionally-charged. I figure I’m about done sleeping all day (and it could have been because it’s that week). I still haven’t finished started my homework, but most of it is due Tuesday. I’ve got a bit of reading for Monday morning, but nothing I won’t get accomplished in the time after morning church service.

I almost thought my brother was going to get a new car today, meaning that I would be getting his car (we’d trade my car in on a new one for him), but then my mom and brother decided not to do it, for whatever reason. Man, I really want a new car. Sad day.

I’ve noticed that I talk to myself a lot more when I live alone than I do when I live with other people. I have a few theories:

• I don’t want other people hearing the stupid stuff I say.

• I’m better company than most people around me.

• I need to talk to someone, and I’m the only person present.

• I may actually be happy.

Yes, it’s true. I think I’m actually happy. I’m flat broke right now and owe the school over seven thousand dollars (not to mention credit cards, previous school loans, and random other bills), but I’m just…content. I feel like I have a purpose again, a place I should be, things I should be doing, goals for my life, and I’m being set up for incredible success in the next two years by people who want me to succeed. Things are falling into place wonderfully (now, if only I could get Financial Aid to do their jobs and process me an aid package, things would be great).

It’s nice to feel happy again. I was incredibly unhappy in my last year and a half at Truman, and even though I loved the school and felt like I’d found a home, I was tired of the same thing all the time. And I’d had so many negative memories associated with Kirksville, including uncooperative teachers, a job which I loved but which didn’t love me back, and frustrated with my inability to improve my situations not under my own control. I kept saying I wanted a change of scenery, and for some reason, whenever I want to escape, I think of Colorado. It’s cold there, and I don’t particularly want to go there, but for whatever reason it seems like a haven, away from the world I know (Cait thinks she’ll go to Boston, but that’s another story entirely). I’ve said that I never underestimate a proper balance of brain chemicals, and I feel like I’ve achieved that, at least for the time being.

Chubby Cheeks!

And to finish on a lighter note, my mom thought that the less-than-three (<3) sign that is supposed to be a heart, was a fat little man with chubby cheeks wearing a dunce cap. She was looking at it upside down. I mean, she's right, it does look like that, but it was still hilarious. Now, I sometimes end my text messages to or conversations with her with something like, "I love you too, Ms. Dunce Cap Chubby Cheeks." She understands, and it's funny. Try it sometime. I less-than-three you all, my lovely DCCC readers!