it's all fun and games until someone gets feelings, because feelings are messy

I wish...

something. I think.

I don't really know. Danelle asked Sarah today what she'd be doing right now if it could be anything. She answered, and so far as I could tell she was telling the truth. But that's not the point, or not my point (at this point).

So being the alleged egomaniac that I am (OK, I actually am, and it's not even close), I directed this question selfwards. Here's what I discovered: I really don't see myself wanting to be anywhere else. Sure, I'm enjoying school, but it's not like I'm enjoying school that much. How is it possible that I can't think of another place, or another time, or another anything that I'd rather be in? Am I that unimaginative? Or maybe this is just the way I get when all is well. And all is well. My life is organized and balanced. I'm eating well, sleeping fine, exercising regularly, studying consistently (relatively speaking, of course), spending time with friends, and I've still had time to practice music and read books. And there's no drama. Or promiscuity. (Basically, my life in no way resembles any of NBC's shows I refuse to watch. Actually, it's not much like any TV I can think of).

So........

I'm a bit unsure as to what to do with a lull like this. I'm not used to having all the pieces fall into place for much longer than a day, say nothing of a couple weeks. And the horizon looks equally uneventful. What is one to do with such smooth waters? Push the sky, I guess. Some Squall is bound to arise eventually.

Goals for the near future:
Get our brass quintet going
Pass classes (well, that probably should have been first)
Read Atlas Shrugged
Find out about starting a school paper

This is what happens when I get frustrated

I hate CS&F (cell structure and function). And damn all you biologists for learning so much about it. Personally, I'd be happy in thinking that my body is made up of millions of little magical faeries who make me tired at night and hungry during class (they also make me tired during class. How do they know?). But no, I'm supposed to believe in fluid mosaic cell membranes and integrins and hyaluronic acids (which, D. and S., I still don't understand) and nerves bundles. Well biologists, stick it in your occluding junctions. Your science sucks.

OK, that wasn't very nice. Especially since I'll be saying pretty much the same thing about biochemists and their biochemistry tomorrow night, just as last night I was anti-anatomists and embryologists. But for me, strong feelings of dislike are generally transient, so this is all very much in character.

We know these things (amongst these, that I thieve phrases from people I hang out with)

I am a moron. A huge moron. Text-book moron. Poster-boy moron. But we know these things.

For those of you who have not spent the last few hours with me (which actually is everyone, because I've been alone, or alone enough that no one but myself would have been able to put together this progression), I have been wasting time, which is exactly what I told myself I wasn't going to do. Tonight I was going to study, because most of my nights studying are really not the most productive. If I had to estimate (which I hate to do, because there are those who might be reading this that would resent any statistics I am presently trying to invent), I'd say we go at about 25% capacity. Granted, the other two-thirds goes into having fun (ok, the math's a little off, but there has to be some room for error and/or being shushed), but still I feel a bit behind in my schoolwork, which is why I had so intended to get some quality work in this evening.

But no. Nope. Things (that is to say, time) just kinda got out of hand. 4 o'clock gave way to 5 at the piano bench, to 6 at the kitchen table, to 7 and 8 and 9 at the computer watching baseball (and perhaps Everwood, which was also a terrible idea because I don't need stupid TV trying to impress upon me feelings I don't, nor want, to have). And so here I am, trying to figure out why I'm not yet rationalizing all this.

I'd like to blame 9/11. I really would. I'm appalled at how desensitized I've become to the whole event. I read in a book once about a boy who, upon learning of the destructive force of the atomic bomb, walked to the nearest window and vomited (or at least that's how I remember the story). That's how I want to feel. I don't want 9/11 just to turn into the reason I can't take toothpaste in my carry-on. Or the reason to hunt out religious radicals. Fine, there might be some smaller lessons to take away, but I'm sick of people trying to find significance in meaningless things. There is nothing special about how many steps it takes from my car to the front door of my house, and there is nothing sacred about the central-most verse in the Bible (but sure, it makes for a decent Sabbath School lesson, because people like symmetry stuff like that, myself included). Ok, that's not exactly what I'm going for. What I'm trying to say is that........, well wait, no. Figure it out for yourself. Because chances are, you already know it. So think about it, and decide whether or not you agree with me.

I find myself (some 5 or 6 steps later, and likely in a totally different direction than anyone else is like to take) ending up back at the Salinger quote I once talked about Friday, March 31, 2006 (I tried linking this before but it didn't work, and so I don't promise that it does now either).

I wonder if insomnia is actually the technical name

As far as sleepless nights go, I've definitely had worse. In fact, I think I've rarely, if ever had better. The crickets and freeway are providing some nice background noise, the moon is full and bright and there are enough clouds in the sky to really keep the earth lit, and I have a full glass of ice water and a half full box of goldfish crackers (yes, that's right, the glass if completely full and the goldfish box is half full, though both could very well end up empty before I even begin considering putting them down. I wonder if there's ice cream. I'm gonna be so fat. I'll be the fattest skinny person ever. I bet one day some dimension traveler is gonna come pay me a visit and say, "you know, some tear in the time-space continuum has allowed all your fat to be transported into a different dimension, and it's all ended up in my linen closet, and so now I'm here to return it," and then he'll hand me a 200 pound plastic bag. Yeah, that makes sense. Well what can I say. Good nights are full of bad ideas.).

I haven't studied yet today. Maybe I should do some of that now. Life just got in the way of studies, and so I didn't study. There's no way I'm gonna study now. I'm too tired to learn anything. Unfortunately this level of fatigue somehow doesn't translate into golden slumbers, except that it just kinda did since now I'm searching my iTunes library for the Abbey Road album.

Sleep pretty darling do not cry...

I learned something fascinating about girl today. I don't actually know if it's true, but it sounds true. Apparently, girls don't have to be sad to cry. They can cry when they're angry or confused or happy, and not just sad or disappointed. I can't exactly explain this phenomenon. I suppose I should liken it to the way the body produces an inflammatory response to a general insult, only for girls it's the way they cry whenever... (and here's where I'm having difficulty still, but I believe it has something to do with emotions.)

I wish I had more to write about, but I just got tired, and I'm gonna try to go with this feeling.

Epic: a definition

For those of you unfamiliar with the affections these two individuals have for each other, my apologies. I do not know or remember all of the stories behind this relationship, nor will I even attempt to recreate any, memory being fallacious as it is. So this is for those who already know what there is to know.

Tomorrow morning, at about 5 a.m., I am taking Tyler to the airport (Ontario). Jonny has decided to come along for the ride.

I just have a feeling that this is going to be some sort of fun, and I'm hoping it's epic fun. If there's a story that comes out of this, I'll be sure to think about relating it here.