I think Facebook makes me feel even more lonely than usual. Which seems ironic since it's all about friends, but it's true.


I'm getting excited about my party/birthday, but they seem far away; more like a dream than really going to happen. But I think it's really awesome that some people are even more excited about it than me. Wow, I never thought friends from college would actually want to come all the way out here to see me.


I suppose I've been hard on myself lately, and I blame it on my period a lot of the time, but I really am trying to get myself out of that habit. I'm too emo for my own good, but I'm noticing that I mostly get that way when I'm by myself. Huh.


Ah well. Started a new knitting project, as well as a quilting one. We'll see how they come out.

I have no life. Seriously.


My lj friends page can't refresh fast enough.


And my yarn definitely can't get here fast enough.

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Physical Touch
with a secondary love language being
Quality Time.

Complete set of results

Physical Touch:		11
Quality Time:		7
Words of Affirmation:		7
Acts of Service:		3
Receiving Gifts:		2

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

Spring break was really great I think. I didn't do really that much, mostly hung around, ran errands, bothered Mike, and worked. I probably didn't spend as much time with my family as I should have, but the time that we were together was pretty good. I wish I knew the things to say that would help us to be closer, that would help us love each other more, that would help us to want to be together. I've been thinking more and more lately about just how transient and nonpermanent life is. No matter how much we might not want to be together, I'm thankful that we are because someday we'll wish we were together again. That's probably because of the books I'm reading, and also that I'm so freaking busy that the days fly by and all of a sudden I find myself thinking about my last two years of college. The last two! Where did the time go? It seems like just yesterday I was a scared pimple faced teenager scared about her first day of high school.


Ah well. I suppose I'm still too young to be nostalgic, but I sort of am, especially while something's still happening. I was hugging Mike last night and it jus struck me that I won't always be able to hug him like that, that we're going to have to grow up, that things are going to change, even if we're together for the rest of our lives. It makes me just want things to slow down a little.


Anyways, I'm back at school now. My classes so far have been great. I'm taking Intro to Drama and Theater, which is more or less like a theater literature class, and Intro to African Studies, which is first a really interesting topic because I don't know much at all about Africa and our teacher is freaking awesome. I'm also taking Gender and Sexuality in Antiquity, mostly an art history class mixed with gender and women's studies theory I think. That class doesn't start til this Tuesday since it's only once a week (for 3 hours!) and we started class this week on a Wednesday. I've had a bunch of reading for both theater and Africa already, which sort of scares me because I think the art history one is going to be full of intense reading as well. But we partied in Aaryn and Morgan's room on Friday night, which was actually really fun (especially after a kind of crappy Nora rehearsal), and then last night Mike and I went to Megan's cabaret show where she sang a bunch of show tunes that were really amazing. We planned to watch a movie with Alison afterwards, but ended up doing homework instead, and then Alison fell asleep, and then we were tired too. Now Mike's at rehearsal and I'm home alone, thinking about taking a shower, finishing my theater reading, and maybe going outside because it's pretty warm today.


Yep. It's good to be back.

Middle of the night runs to Hy-Vee to buy pickles and string cheese and shrimp cocktails and lunchables and ice cream and "healthy" chips and pop tarts make me happy. Seriously.


I actually had fun writing my scenes today for devised. I think if I keep working like I should I might actually make something good. I'm trying really hard to not be a bitch about that whole thing too, and while it didn't work too well tonight I'm going to give it my all tomorrow (today). That and finish all my homework for once. Woo! And knit. That's the plan for tomorrow. Wow. I better get to sleep.


Here's something fun for you all: http://www.knitting-and.com/knitting/patterns/afghans/sampler.htm


P.S. Baby you make my life. I love you more than anything. And while I say that too often and it's so easy to not believe me anymore, I wish I could still surprise you with romantic things. I'm going to try harder with that too.

Sometimes life is really great. Like today. I didn't deserve it, but it was.

I'm walking a tight rope, trying to convince the ones I love (along with myself) that I'm normal, that I can do what other people do, that I can say things without people freaking out (or me freaking out for that matter), and that I deserve to be normal with people.


Every day seems to be a struggle to maintain that balance, of keeping myself distracted enough so that I forget about the rope, but staying vigilant enough to keep myself from falling off. It's a long way down.


Sometimes I forget what's happening, forget that I'm supposed to keep myself under control, and that things don't always mean what I think they mean. And for that I'm very sorry. I'm going to try harder.


It's usually because of my period, but the last thing I want you to do is feel bad about me, to doubt my love for you, or to wish that we'd never happened. I just wish we could talk about this sort of thing.



I'm sorry I hurt you.

I'm tired of pretending. I'm so sick of all of this.


Prof. Factor told us the meaning of life today. According to Aristotle the meaning of life is the pursuit of good, which is natural in all humans, and then becomes happiness. In all activities there is a balance between doing it too little or too much. The balance you find for yourself, finding the best you can do in a certain activity is happiness, a source of contentment, and what you need to be really internally satisfied. Finding that balance, duplicating it, and finding new activities to excell in is the meaning and end of life. I only wish I had more of those balances, more activities that I didn't feel completely incompetent doing, just something that I could that makes me feel like I belong. Because right now I don't feel like I really do.

Sometime I'll just have to face the fact that I'm not a very creative person, no matter how much I pretend to be.


I'm also very bad with deadlines, even self-imposed ones, but right now I'm blaming it on my cold. Soon I will be better. Hopefully.



Drawing class was really fun, though I feel pretty stupid for going to the wrong section on the wrong day. Let that be a lesson to you - read your emails promptly and thoroughly. School and Society is going to be stupid, but I think Philosophy of Education is going to be pretty interesting. I'm looking forward to that one. Otherwise, school is good. Nearly back in the groove already, but it's still lonely sometimes. I tried out for a show today. I had to play "5 times through a door" where you have to make 5 characters really quickly in succession. God, do I hate that game. I felt like such an idiot. And don't get me wrong, I love Pam to death, but she's really hard to follow.



What is it about livejournal that makes me so melodramatic? Seriously, it does something to me. I should get back to cleaning my room.

This is stupid, I'm stupid, my writing is stupid. Facebook makes me sad.



God, when am I going to grow up?? This melodrama is getting old.



Plans for today: watching DVDs, getting ready for school (finally), going to the bank, possibly getting Rachael a birthday present, and knitting. Oh, and maybe a haircut. Call me if anything interests you.

There's something wrong with me when I read Zoe's lj like I actually know her, like I could understand her friends, her cold, the things she likes to get for Christmas, and her obsession with Sex in the City. I think this means I need more friends.


And boy am I trying. For some reason it has become very hard for me to make friends. However, I am very proud of myself for making friends at work, even if I don't keep in touch with them. I am still capable of carrying on a conversation with someone I hardly know. And who knows? maybe they will become real friends. Also, every day at work is a lesson in working with people you don't like. And I'm thankful for that lesson.


It is getting late and I promised myself I would get up early and organize my shit so I can be ready to pack it in 6 days or so, so a Christmas update will probably come tomorrow. (You know, if my girlyness doesn't get the best of me.)

Nearly everything is finished and wrapped. Christmas festivities began tonight with a trip to Cosley to look at the lights and animals, tomorrow's the party, then Christmas Eve, and the very long day of Christmas itself. The only thing I will miss is my Dad's side of the family early in January.


I think it's sort of ironic that I've been consumed by stuff, both on the job and at home, and haven't really thought about Christ at all during this time of year. In a way that seems natural becuase I've been away from internalizing the Christian culture for so long, but I can't help but wonder what I'm missing. Who was Jesus really? Why did he come? Did his life matter, or only his death? Do I matter to Him? Do his followers reflect his true message, his true meaning? The more I grow up the more I feel like I don't fit in to the things that matter. Sure, I'm better at playing the part, saying right-enough things, seeming normal enough, but things like religion become farther and farther away. I just don't fit in.


On the other hand, that's nothing new. I'm still struggling, trying to find a balance between what I want and what I should want and what I have and can have. I pull myself in different directions, almost like multiple view points and values vie for control of how I think.


In some ways I still don't know who I am.


I'm teasing myself, letting others tease me, and in the end going home alone with nothing. Hopefully I'm growing at the same time, getting strong enough to make something for myself. It is the season of hope, and I will hope for that.

Things are crazy around here, and probably going to get only crazier. I have the day off tomorrow, so hopefully I can see Erin and wrap everything and finish everything else. Yes, that is the plan. Friday I have to work again (by the way, my family is totally unsympathetic about the stupid people in the store everyday) and then the party, which I hear Kelly is thinking about going to. Ah well, I hope Davy and Kevin can come along with Erin, I'll bring Trivial Pursuit and Clue and hope everything turns out wonderfully. Saturday I have to work again and then Mike's for a little bit before dinner with the family. Christmas is going to be church, a quick lunch, and then presents, which will be good I think.

On the subject of my family, I hate how I feel angry at them for no reason. Well, maybe for just a little reason, but still. I'm going to try my very hardest to make the rest of this break great.


Everytime I feel like making an update my crappy stolen internet kicks me off (kharma I guess), so I'll make one a little later after I get some more things done. For now here's a quote from Stephen King's Bag of Bones which I thought was pretty cool.


"This is how we go on: one day at a time, one meal at a time, one pain at a time, one breath at a time. Dentists go on one root-canal at a time; boat-builder go on one hull at a time. If you write books, you go on one page at a time. We turn from all we know and all we fear. We study catlogues, watch football games, choose Sprint over AT&T. We count the birds in the sky and will not turn from the window when we hear the footsteps behind us as something comes up the hall; we say yes, I agree that clouds often look like other things - fish and unicorns and men on horseback - but they are really only clouds. Even when the lightning flashes inside them we say the are only cloudsz and turn our attention to the next meal, the next pain, the next breath, the next page. That is how we go on."


Oh, he's just so good and creepy.

It's so easy for me to think that no one is listening and it's okay not to say anything, but then I fall into my own traps of making myself feel unworthy, stupid, and unacceptable. So even if it's just for me, I'll try to keep writing, especially because looking back at old journals is fun and for almost a year or so I've left a lot out that will probably be forgotten.


I just finished Stephen King's Bag of Bones which I thought was excellent. I just love how he winds traditional "horror" aspects in with fascinating bits of history and other stories to make a novel so interesting I can hardly put it down. Spooky. And now I'm even more afraid of ghosts than I used to be. I remember being a little kid and watching this show with my parents (my parents were weird and let my sister and I watch all their adult dramas with them, even Law and Order, which is when I first started to think about how gay sex worked) and it was called "Unsolved Mysteries" mostly dealing with real murders or kidnappings or other things that could really be solved, and at the end they always had a number you could call if you knew anything about the case. Sometimes, though they had ones about ghosts and they freaked me out more than the rapists or murderers. They would always recreate what actually happened too, and I hated it, but I always watched. And of course then I would have nightmares, but the next week I'd be right there, ready for more. I guess that says something about me.

I suppose I have my own ghosts too. Ones that I keep around because I like them just as much as I'm afraid of them. Most of them are actual people that I torment myself with, but others are my past or even just crazy ideas I get in my head that I can't seem to get rid of. To use a cliche, they are the loose tooth I just can't leave alone, even though it hurts.



Work is good, however. Last night was slow and Pete and Salome and I had fun making fun of a guy that sounded like Hannibal Lector on the phone, along with drinking mocha samples, and talking... I think I really like this job. It seems like I can talk to just about everyone I happen to be working with at a given time, with Elizabeth about teaching, with Gwen about paper cuts and ceramics, and most of the customers are good too. I think I'm looking forward to getting a job I like and staying with it for awhile, more than just a few weeks. Even over the summer part of me wanted to stay and make even better friends with the people there, to really make it a place of my own.

I suppose I should look at school that way. I like it there, don't get me wrong, but in some ways I feel like I'm still not all there, still not fully at home. It's getting better though, and I think part of it is that most of us are so busy with school that it's hard to have time to make friends. And it's my fault too since I want to sleep rather than party. Maybe that will change, especially if I can get involved in Jo's play.



Christmas is coming, and I'm excited for that. I have most of my presents planned out in my head, so now I need to get off my butt, make some lists, go shopping, send out the last of the cards, maybe plan a party, and let it all happen. I really am getting excited, which is awesome. Then as soon as Christmas happens, I have just a week until I go back to school, see Seth and Alison again, and get into what I think is going to be a really busy term. And oh will it be cold. I'm getting cold just thinking about walking home after my night class in the freezing wind. This winter is going to be a doosy, mark my words.



And now I think I'll go take a shower, but maybe later I'll do a review of the new Knitty (http://www.knitty.com).

I'm home! It's still weird and I'm finding myself not being the best person to be around most of the time, but I'm trying harder. Tomorrow is going to be a good thanksgiving, hopefully. I will try my best.


It's already Thanksgiving, which is a little weird since the busyness of finals let it sneak up on me, but Christmas is right after that, and I'm actually really excited for it this year. I want to knit more things, buy presents, send cards, plan a party, decorate the tree, make fudge, sing carols, oh, it's going to be great.


While I'm looking for a job to earn money for this Christmas season I'm sleeping late, reading Stephen King, knitting, and hanging out with Mike. All of that has been very good and I'm going to miss it, but I'm falling into my own bad habits again. My insecurities about several things are popping up, so I'm trying (again) to talk myself out of them. Some times are better than others.


And I'm sure that was all very incoherant, but my sleep schedule is messed up and my head hurts. I think I'll go call Mike and knit until he can come over.

Finals are almost over.

Finals are almost over.

Finals have yet to begin.

This is going to be hard.



I've been feeling really weird lately and I don't know why. It's either really really happy or just completely overwhelmed with everything going on. I feel like finals are going to rock, break is going to be awesome, and the rest of this year will be a blast, or I feel like I can't do the right thing, I shouldn't want what I want, and that I'm just sort of hanging out, helpless.


Ah well, there's too much school to think about now to delve into that any deeper.

I have the best friend in the whole world. His name is Mike Giese. I love his hair and his eyes and the way he dresses and the way he sleeps. I love the way he tells jokes and the way he laughs. I love that he cares enough to yell at me to do my homework. I love that he likes to buy me pizza. He makes me laugh and he gives the best hugs in the whole world. Actually, we play this game sometimes where we stand in such a way so that our belly buttons are touching, and we fit together perfectly. He's my other half and the love of my life.

Never forget that.

I am hungry for more than just a homecooked meal and a greasy pizza. I am hungry to this term to be over, hungry for a really good friend, hungry for someone to say I'm just fine the way I am, hungry for Christmas to come so I can see the looks on everyone when they open the presents I gave them, hungry to work a job and feel like I'm contributing to my own future, hungry to create something worthwhile.


I'm hungry!


Finals are quickly closing in and I'm not sure if I will sleep tonight. Probably not. Still on the agenda: 3 papers (two of them research), a lab (actually not that much left to do for that), a presentation, and a scary scary test to study for.

Speaking of scary, I'm going to see Fred Phelps and his possy tomorrow. Stay tuned for scary details but probably no pictures out of respect for the family of the solier who's funeral Phelps is protesting. I cannot understand such perversion of a religion that is supposed to be based on peace and love. Wish us all luck: I hope we can pull together enough Knox students to outnumber Phelps' gang just to show the family that even though these horrible people came from out of town, we can come too (mostly from out of town) with a message of respect and honor.

I have a research paper due in less than two weeks. I have known about this paper for at least 7 weeks, and even longer than that because it's a 200 level class and Gilbert always makes his 200 classes write full fledged research papers. What did I do? Wait until the last possible moment to begin my research, wasting enough time to make interlibrary loans impossible, and make it so difficult for myself that I just want to give up right now.

I won't let myself do that. I have one great looking book, Gilbert wants to see me to go over my topic (and although that meeting will be horrible because I still don't have all my freaking ideas worked out, mostly because I haven't done much research, it will be good for my paper and that's exactly what it needs right now, something good for it), and now I just want to have a good rough draft hammered out so I can work on my research paper and presentation for my education class.

So I wanted to talk about goals. Of course, so late in the term it's going to take everything I have to keep my head about water, but I don't want myself to forget all this bullshit. I can do better than this. Next term I'm going to stay on top of things, start research early, and actually get some real work and learning done. I'm not really sure how I can keep track of this, but over the next couple of weeks I want to formulate some realistic goals for school and life and work out a system where I have to report back on how well I'm following them. Because if I see after awhile a bunch of big red X's or something, it might spur me into changing a little.

I am fooling myself when I think I could possibly settle for just one thing in life. I think I've known this for awhile, but I'm still trying to fit into the normal major/job/house sequence of living. I still want to do everything, both the normal predictable cliched things and the totally unrealistic revolutionary things. An art history major won't get me to all those things. An art/education major won't get me to all those things. Obviously. So I'm trying to come to terms with trying to pick what to do first, and even that is proving to be difficult. Everyday I want to be something different.

My sister is starting her college search and it's reminding me of how I was feeling during that process. She's lucky in that she knows I think a little more than I did what she wants to do with her life, and she's also found some good schools that are specialized enough to help her get into just what she wants. But I also think that she's feeling like I did, that it's scary to pick just one thing, to dedicate your life to just one goal, to feel like by choosing one beautiful thing you have to sacrifice every other dream you can see yourself living.

I still feel like that even though I know I have to commit to something soon. I'm making a pact with myself though: if I can get through these two degrees and make some sort of success of myself, put some money in the bank, maybe buy a house, and maybe get married, then I can change my mind. Then I can try another dream if the other one doesn't turn out very well in my own head even though it might turn out well on paper.

This solution also doesn't seem like the best idea to me, because what if I never make myself stick to something? What if I never stay long enough with one thing to get to the best part of it? Will I be satisfied with the kind of transient lifestyle that never allows me to "become" a profession? I don't know the answers to these questions. I suppose right now I just hope that of all the dreams I have I would be equally happy working at any of them and that teaching art will be a right enough guess. It scares me that I don't know myself enough by now to pick out something.


Anyways, I have no idea what to get Mike for our anniversary. I also have no real good ideas about what to do for/with him. I also have no good enough friends to ask.

Finals are in less than two weeks. Exactly two weeks from today I hope to be sleeping at home. Oh yes, sleeping at home, where a roommate doesn't type into the wee hours of the morning and I can pile as many blankets on my bed as I want.

I'm scared about my tests and papers. I really really am. This means that tomorrow after my parents leave I must hit the books and for the next 12 days never stop looking at them or my word processing program. That is my life. I want a new life, one that doesn't include extreme expectations or retail.