friskin

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Bad karma, baby.

I left my lamp on again, so when I went to turn it off my hand touched the bulb and now I have a big, ugly, PAINFUL blister on the tip of my middle finger. And now I can send a genuine "fuck you" to the universe and go to sleep.

Dear -,

They say that when you write your wishes on paper they take on a life of their own. I never write about you. It seems impossible to turn you into art, because you already exist more beautifully than anything I've ever been able to create. My wishes could not do you justice. Your face surprises me each time I see it. (I wish I could be so surprised more often!) It is amazing how you don't come anywhere near my expectations. I can handle the coffee and the cigarettes and the desolate silence. I just hope you're not a cocaine addict.

Love,
B.

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;"

Nice little vacation thus far. I'm still feeling like I never want to go back. There's really nothing wrong with college, but sometimes I get the idea that I would be better off just getting married and quitting while I'm ahead. That's certainly not going to happen at the rate I'm going, but S. said that in ten years he'll be my boyfriend.

Kidding, of course.

It's good to be back in business here, causing more trouble than ever. Caroline and I will be lucky if many charges of harassment and trespassing and theft (and general creepiness) are not brought against us. It's not really as bad as it seems.

You see, your honor, it's not technically "breaking and entering" if the front door is unlocked and nobody lives there any more... [Exhibit A: Freezer filled with festering meat.]

Look for blurred photos of my car on the internet tomorrow morning. WANTED.

Gun report disrupts school.

For some reason I still try to read these online diaries like they could keep me connected to something real. Andrew wrote today about his old journal entries, which made me kind of wish that I hadn't destroyed everything I had written during that phase of my life. I've got stuff from highschool on, but the middle school years are lost.

I've recently found it necessary to wear my old coat in the mornings and at night. In the inside pocket I found ancient treasures:
CDTA Route 90 bus schedule
SUNY Albany library card I never even used
THS ID card
Shalimar business card
A poem he wrote for me on graph paper (Becky is what runs wonderfully along on smiles as i kiss, sigh yum to love she is a magic syrup. roung hugs fly, flow in excellent rays from our being as one fruit lays.)

Should I return these scraps to their home, or deposit them in some shoe box and bury it twelve kilometers under the surface of the earth?

I went to Hollywood Video at 11:30 last night with R. to rent Tommy, and then we watched it in his room. It was the most refreshing thing that has happened in ages. I don't know why.

There's a lot I don't know.

PLUG:

Doris Henson is my God!

Listen to them. Love them. Do them. Now.

It will make the world a better place.

(They played at the C Haus tonight. I caught the last few songs, I caught the guitarist's eye, he cut me a deal on their album "White Elephant" because he is awesome and I am poor.)

Everything is working out nicely. As always.

This week went by really fast. I feel like a real airhead because I can't even remeber most of what happened. I guess I spent a good amount of time in the library. On Wednesday I skipped choir to finish a lab so I could go to RC in Madison. There's a guy who reminds me of Steve there, and it made me even more homesick. Well, made me realize that I am anyway. I'm glad and sorry that I haven't really met anyone like the people in Troy.

I doubt that last weekend's crazyness will be topped, but it's off to a pretty good start. I came home to another message from D. He invited me to hang out and we had fun. Too bad alcohol is the devil and ranks higher on the necessity chart than nice girls like me.

Tomorrow is my radio show again. Apparently there was a meeting that I totally did not know about last night. They're changing something or other because loop shows are illegal. I was going to leave a half hour early so I could catch the tail end of the Found Magazinething. Because I will cry if I miss something so freaking cool that I enjoy so much. I might still leave early. If everyone else can have fucked up priorities, so can I.

I'm flying a week from tomorrow.

Things I Will Do:
Walk the dog.
Go for a drive.
See Napoleon Dynamite again at Crossgates.
Shalimar.

If you want to see me, you should. I'll be making the rounds. Ask me out on a date.

I had to sleep this disappointment off. I couldn't stay alive and awake at the same time.

Now I need to get out of my room before it happens again. Someone should come find me.

R.I.P. Rodney Dangerfield.

: (

"I know you well - you are neither hot nor cold; I wish you were one or the other! But since you are merely lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth!"

Emma and I wrote the BEST poem in the world EVER for this boy named Rich. We like to think that he's our friend. We gave him the only copy that exists, but it's just too good to not try to remember. It's totally fucking bizarre. We wrote it on the way home today, because we were sad that he didn't come with us to Baraboo. Well, it makes me laugh, anyway.....

Dear Rich,

The water was not as blue
As your eyes.
The rocks were not as new
as your cries.
The bus was not as yellow
As your sweet skin.
The lunch was not as mellow
As your meat grin.
The trail was not as long
As your flowing, red robe.
The mounds were not as strong
As your left ear lobe.
The air was not as clean
As your soul.
The grass was not as green
As your mole.
The stream was not as damp
As your hair.
The hikers were not as vamp
As your loving care.
Nothing was as beautiful
As you.

We missed you today. Love, "Rich's Rhyming Bitches"

This weekend there was much "rocking out."

I should stop making jokes that no one understands and that aren't even funny. I wish I could know why I'm behaving the way I am.

But since I can't, I'll show you pictures from the field trip I went on today with my geology class.

Baraboo, Wisconsin.