so what's new?



oh yeah so. I'm in impending grad school doom.
dread.
(okay so it's actually fine & I am excited x 20.)

life is draining all of my creativity away. I am slowly but slowly becoming stupid, capable only of making the occasional meal and petting the occasional wandering cat that passes by my station in this chair.

then I get up & go outside & play frisbee.




saturday I rolled up the carpet in my room & looked at the pretty pretty wood floor. & I was like, I have 1 million papers to fill out & 1 million checks to write/mail, and thennnnnn more work work work, but I just want to look at the sunlight on all this blonde wood & wax sentimental.

so I did.

I guess it needed to happen.





post script, I love THUNDERSTORMS.

this crushed my soul this morning.


oh me? I've been okay. you know, getting shit together. mailed off all my grad school apps & everything. hassling people all week to send recommendations, transcripts, but my end of all this shit is actually D O N E. feels good just to know that it's all in someone else's hands now. there's still plenty to do: renting an apartment (got some leads from my cousin about bridgeport though), buying rest of the furniture, applying for assistantship... I could go on forever. but the closer it draws the more excited I get.


ate bok choy for the first time yesterday & set out my meal plan for next year: rice + various sauces + eggs + spinach. inexpensive livin here I come.


argued with myself all day today. ate sweet&sour rice & drank 1 gallon of coffee. life is cold but good.

subject: "rollin with saget"

tags: "rollin with saget"
mood: "rollin with saget"
music: "rollin with saget"











in other news:
I'm practically snowed in to my house !!
&, so far so good, 09.

I made 5+ new year's resolutions for 09.

1. is a secret
2. learn to be ambidextrous
3. be more focused
4. buy more furniture
5. cut negative shit out of my life.

SO FAR SO GOOD.


there's more but I mostly forget. 09 baby. this is my year. this new year's I was drinking champagne in a basement & really thinking hard. I dunno what it is. election or personal life or world or what. but I felt like this is the year. the year for...? I can't say. but it feels like a changing sort of year. it was this weird suspended feeling, & my throat got tight, & I watched the fireworks thinking, it's changing. it's over. it was chilly & weird & I've never felt so strange on new year's before. it was always a screw off celebration, but this year there was some funky significance attached to it. maybe it comes with being older or maybe it comes from the state of my life. but I felt it, man. no, for real.
no more fightning. no more struggles. no more confrontations, feeling guilty; no more upset stupid thinking blaming, etc. it's time to get real.

2009 I will be 23. even that has some significance. maybe I should go back to bed.




last night I made cinnamon crusted greek chicken. explosions of flavor! I felt like I was eating at the olive garden, only... greek.

"From now on give only high-fives."


blizzzzzard. or rainstorm, icestorm, whatever, I have no idea what's really going on outside. I am so ignorant to the world outdoors.



spent the morning playing mancala, watching "Fresh Prince", & making fudge & toffee saltines. oh vintage will smith. you & your hyjinks.

it's the last day of school before christmas break so I didn't get called in to work today. the roads are shit anyway so it's probably for the best. all last night I dreamed that they built a disneyworld in chicago & I moved in to the small world village & ate a lot of melty ice cream... word.


I took a bath this afternoon & read "The Sun Also Rises". probably a little pretentious. but when I was done, I tossed it across the bathroom & slid underwater. it fell off the toilet & onto the floor, & when I resurfaced I saw it lying half open on the tile floor. that's when I realized... Ernest Hemingway & Bill Murray really look alike. if they were ever going to make a dark comedy movie about Ernest Hemingway, Bill Murray could play him. I'm just saying. it's uncanny,

someone got murdered down the street from me & it's making me sad & uncomfortable. I'm like a pheasant & now I'm going to gather all my good shit close under my feathers & scurry away quickly.

fortunately the snow will slow down any & all murderers. & they will have to stomp snow off their boots when they get in the door & I am sure that I will hear that.





now I am baking gingerbread cookies. you know what I don't like gingerbread. but I love making them, & I love the way butter + shortening + spices tastes. this is slowly becoming a baking journal & I don't care. I am surprised I don't weigh 300+ lbs but I actually don't like eating cookies very much anymore. just baking them & eating the dough in little spoonfulls. oh hey salmonella raw eggs. no I am doing ok. come on over.

holy shit. I mean I've almost forgotten how to work this thing, or is it just that lj changed so much & I missed it all. It took me forever to switch around my layout never mind looking at/edit my friends page. ridiculous. not that there's much to look at I'm sure. seems like when I feel out of the lj thing, lots of other people did too.

anyway this makes me all nostolgic. I guess I've been thinking lots lately.





making saffron buns today. it's really difficult & saffron is spensive so I hope I don't fuck up. I've been cooking & baking like a tornado lately. nurr, hobbies.

hello livejournal.








I dunno if I will ever use this again. but it is very strange looking back. the last time I wrote in this I was 21. the last time I wrote in this I was a senior in college. the last time I wrote in this was like this time last year & now this year is almost over.

there's almost not a point. but hello, livejournal.

Everything is flooded around here. Really intense. All I am, is basically worried.

I was getting strapped into my corset last night & as it was sinched tighter & tighter all I could imagine was my guts getting smaller and smaller. Squashed into the lower levels of my everything. Down between my toes. & my guts got smaller & smaller & lower & lower & then they just fell out. In my shoes, probably.

(I forgot to say that I am Gwendolen in the college's production of The Importance of Being Earnest, this really fantastic Oscar Wilde play. It's this great part, it really is, & I wear corsets & petticoats & linen dresses--the whole shebang, you know.)



My housemates forgot me at school today & I walked around campus with my headphones on. I started crying ridiculously because I was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt for fuckingdanceclass & the music was unbelievably sad & I wanted my leftover tomato soup. Pretty soon I was doing that shuddery phuphuphup breathing that you do when you are trying not to cry but you're failing at it. & I kept thinking don't be a bitch about this; they didn't forget you, you forgot to ask for a ride, you shouldn't have to ask for rides from them they are probably sick of it. The air smelled cold, & beneath that it smelled like potato pancakes, really hot and fried in all this grease, & there were tears leaking under my sunglasses because it made me miss being home. Made me miss Christmas.
Then I found my housemate & she apologized a lot, &the other one did too, & I ended up with soup full of melted mozzerella cheese.

It's just one of those days, you know. I'm such a damn sap.


I've just been so fucking frustrated lately. So dissatisfied. I can't snap out of it.
I just need something to change really quickly. It's static.

I don't know what's happening to me anymore. Yesterday I dropped Carol off at her class and was driving to park her car. All morning I had been thinking, Jesus this is the perfect day, big blue sky huge white clouds it's just starting to get cold fall's just on the way, sweater and jeans and a car, I should go pumpkin picking. (Are pumpkins even ripe yet? Do pumpkins get ripe? Is that what you say?)

It was a trip that ought to have led me to the parking lot, then a hike across the campus quad, then to the dance studio to make a jackass out of myself in a Modern Dance class. Instead it was a trip that led me down the road and out of the school and to an hour and fifteen of just fucking driving. GIVE ME THAT HORIZON, I yelled at me as I zoomed out of the parking lot, and holy shit did I get it. I sat in a park laying on the roof of the car for ten glorious minutes, and smoked one glorious cigarette, and felt something awesome.

Today I dropped Carol off at her class and was driving to park her car, and I almost drove away again. I mean, physics? When the sky's really blue and there's huge white clouds and it's just starting to get cold? What the hell. It's too perfect for that bullshit.

Anyway, I really have to stop that shit and just get my ass in class so I can graduate. Or something.



However, today is shaping up to be good, I can already tell.

I saw these guys do this dance live for part of their encore. It was pretty cool. I have never been a diehard OK Go fannette or anything but they were an exciting band to watch with buckets of stage presence and charisma and shit.


I was sitting around thinking I needed to be less sloppy, and I thought I needed to take a shower. When I got in the shower I realized I had taken three showers already today: one on purpose, two accidental running-to-the-car-in-the-pouring-rain showers. But actually today is yesterday now, so I continued to shower. Our drain isn't draining water properly of course and we are not allowed to use chemicals to drain it, it is in our house rules actually (we tried baking soda + vinigar but I do not think we used enough). So we have to ration our upstairs showers and we have to ration our upstairs shaving in upstairs shower. I was getting all hairless and shit and I noticed how when my toes curl around the faucet, they look really hand-like. This freaked me out for maybe ten minutes, then I got over it.
Then I got out of the shower and stared at myself in the mirror for nearly a half an hour, debating. It's very weird how I look like I'm wearing a swimsuit when I'm not, all thanks to tanlines.


I have to get up in about four hours. I promised I would help visit and record the Amish at their markets at 9 AM. What a rube. But in other (obvious) news, I got my internet to work in the house. Shit isn't all that bad, actually. I read a Goosebumps book today and watched The Darjeeling Limited trailer about fifty times.

I've been dead.


Too scared to check my email, missing shit already, all this bittersweet bullshit. Too stressed, too tired, too busy. End of a summer, end of an age, end of a lot of bullshit. I can't stand this.

My fingernails have gotten longer than they've ever been, and I haven't forgotten about anyone or anything I'm just been heniously busy and without the internet! I can't figure that shit out at my house, there are numbers to call and it's all wireless and I don't think that I have a wireless card whatnot, I can't figure this shit out. I can barely manage to cook baked potatoes in a microwave for myself let alone anything else. (This is not out of stupidity, it is out of a lack of time and a need to be in a basement ironing sweaty linen dresses and helping strap some bitchy chicks into bitchier corsets.)

I'm too scared to do a lot of things today acutally. But it's almost all over, and I'm recalling AT&T and getting my internet back, and soon I'll stop banging my knees on metal gates and fucking get my act together. I miss shit way too much.

Holy, shit, summer.

It's been a good long time, it's had a good long run. I've done / seen / etc. a lot of things.

I fucked up a lot too, but... Nah. It's all been worth it.
So I guess, whatever. Here's to the few, the proud, the months of summer.




Senior year. Here. I. Come. Ready or not.


((Probably everyone has seen this but just in case you didn't. Hiya, Harry.))

I think I might be going camping or something. There are some rumors afoot or abroad or whatever. You might want to watch out for that, future self. Afootie rumors are not a good thing for anyone.


Friday, I think I get paid. It's really difficult to tell, they keep switching the dates around at good old U of N and the D and the everything of the Shakespeare. I'm an amateur 100% inexperienced a little shitty milliner now, OR SOMETHING. Maybe you do not know what a milliner does and if that is true, then do not know no longer.
Anyway, I end up hunchbacked from bending over on a high stool to try and see shit on a low table, and completely ridiculously overcaffinated, every day. I think that kind of sums up my theater experience. Hunchback high chairs shit overcaffinated.
I like that kind of shit.

Sometimes when it's a long day and it rains a lot, I sit around wondering what it would be like if I crawled out my bedroom window, scaled the side of the house, took a car, and drove until I ran out of gas, and then I'd get out and walk some, and I'd camp in some woods and live out there for a little while. Shit gets too boring around here and raining a lot makes it fucking monotonous.

I'm driving myself to work tommorrow, and that's the best sort of day.

HOLY SHIT, HARRY.



FRIDAY NIGHT.
I waited for seven hours in a crowded bookstore with my arm firmly linked through Lord Voldemort's with hairspray haircolor stiffening my hair,
got the book in less than fifteen minutes,
drove like a bat from hell to get home,
sat down,
and read it.
5 and 1/2 hours.
1 hour spent crying: half over death, half over the fact that... it's fucking over. I won't ever again pick up another Harry Potter book.


I mean, I liked it.
It's just, damn. I've been reading it for half my life
and now it's...over?


Well, shit. Now what?

MY BASEMENT. = MAKING CREEPY CREAKING THUMPING NOISES.

I have no idea what it is.
I am the only one awake.
TOO YOUNG TO DIE.
ONLY 21 FOR ONE DAY.
WHY GOD.


If I die: Carol gets half my clothes. I don't know about anything else. Kiss my cats on the head. I'm fucking scared, something just broke.
It's probably cats. But, you know.




Yeah. It was cats. Little fuckers.

I'M DYING I'M DYING I'M DYING I'M DYING.
I'm seeing the Decemberists on Wednesday.
I'M DYING I'M DYING I'M DYING I'M DYING.


Dammit all to hell, bloody nose.
Dammit all to hell, fucking birthdays.
Double triple dammit all to hell parallel parking scratching a fender McDonald's chicken unsettled stomach.
Triple quadruple fucking skirt hem.
I'm seeing the Decemberists. What a plus.

Delicious VEGAN cake with VEGETARIAN FROSTING won't you be mine. I am surprised that I liked a cake made with (of all obscurities!) potato flour!! But there you are.


I quit.
But I'm 21?!

I'm moving to Ocracoke.

Well, not now. But someday. I miss it. SO HARD.


Everyday I went to the beach around 11. Swam in the ridiculously warm ocean for hours, wake boarding, ecetera. Went into town sometimes, ate homemade ice cream or crab meat. Fed stray cats. Bought souviners. Blackbeard hung out there, saw Blackbeard stuff. Bought a pirate flag, and hoisted the colors. More beach. More swimming. Taking a shower in an outdoor shower: not as bad as it sounds. Fire on the beach, cooking your food right there. And your dessert. Pirate flag snapping in the wind.
Baby turtle holes; ghost crabs, little clams.
OH MY GOD. GREAT.
And everyone is happy, happy, happy.



And now...working in a sweatshop all. over. again.