This semester has been remarkable. That is, worthy of remark, so it's only fitting that I dedicate a sentence of two to fall 2009.

It's been one of laziness and indecision. After years of tearing through entangled weeds and webs of vines prohibiting any chance at far-sightedness, I'd come to a clearing in this maze of wilderness that we all must navigate. Several promising paths presented before me, I opted to just bask in the sun.

I try not to fidget at the touch of coarse fingers because I know that they've lost their velvet feel from working, playing, touching others.
Dry elbows, calloused feet.
I'm fixated on golden locks. Would I still love them once they've oxidized?

Next semester I'd best be getting a move on. Bring on the wilderness induced myopia! I'm so ready for it.

So I never went back

Nutrition test fail. Literally.

And I mean, I was studying so hard my hemoglobins hurt.

Very specific feelings evoked by memories of very specific moments in time are the best.

Like I saw a picture of his face (not just any picture- one with the eyebrows, well, you know) and at once I was flooded with orange soda cans in 40 degree weather and vanilla yogurt and the feeling of that moderately priced green comforter that I spilled wine on and the sound of a small bedside fan while John Jacob was asleep and khaki boxers that felt coarse because they hadn't been worn in yet and September sweat from a tight grip on my hand like you meant it while I stared out of that Jellybean window at the Capitol, too preoccupied to listen to a song that you cared about, as you so often did. And a shaking voice, not out of nervousness but just because, during sing-alongs at the most inappropriate times, like downstairs when you're upset at your birthday party. And thin lips when we finally gave in even though we knew we totally, totally shouldn't. And how I'd get slightly winded walking to or from Brazos parking garage or that 24th/Speedway intersection on our bi-weekly walks where we'd finally part.

And finally, finally, finally, after last night I have some closure. When I think about it now, it's like it wasn't even something that was happening to me. It's like a story that I was happy to witness.
And I hope she gives you another chance, because from what I can tell it sounded like you were just being you, and that's nothing to run away from.

Enough about this, for Christ's sake. I mean, last night I literally fell asleep smiling while thanking God or whoever for all of the things I have to be thankful for: A small, wonderful, diverse family that made me who I am and can tolerate who I am when I'm at my worst. Being able to afford going shopping at all on Black Friday, which okay, I know it's shallow, but fashion is a de-stresser and a form of self expression for me. Such beautiful, beautiful friends who I can talk to after years and still have the same absurd "us-isms". The comfort in knowing that some things never change. And other beautiful, beautiful friends that I genuinely miss after only being gone for a few days. Something to look forward to. Love that spans miles and miles and miles. Not thinking, but knowing, that this time, it's different.

Getting ready for the hex rally, and this is no exaggeration, I pulled an old sweater out of my closet and laughed because I hadn't worn it since the day that I met him. "Well, time to stop being such a superstitious weirdo," I thought, "but wouldn't it be funny if he saw me? He'd think I hadn't changed a bit." I sort of chuckled about it because I hadn't thought about him in a while.
And before that, well I have this fixation with the past, not that I regret things, but wouldn't it be wonderful to go back to when I was 14, armed with all of the knowledge that I have now?
Then walking down the street minutes after putting on that damn shirt, I don't even process the identical figures walking towards me until I notice that one is smirking and the other is very deliberately looking at some imaginary eye-catcher opposite me.
And I took a long, deep breath that sort of allowed my heart to collect all of it's scattered shattered pieces, then he and his brother passed before I could do or say anything, and as I exhaled it broke again, just like that.
For so long when assignments and what-have-yous directed me to the engineering area I wondered if I'd see him; I guess things really do happen when and where you least expect them to.
And I now I guess I know you never really get over things, you just slowly forget.

Have I found you, flightless bird, grounded, bleeding?
Or lost you, American mouth, big pill stuck going down?

Most beautiful chorus ever, Twilight soundtrack or not.

I think I'm in love but it makes me kinda nervous to say so.

A hat, a song, anything in the world to feel close to you,
because it's hard to get close to you.

But for the most part,
Now it’s just like ABC
Life’s just like 123
Yeah yeeaaah
Yeah yeeaaah

Feelin' Beiruty today.

4.2 miles thanks to "A Better Son/Daughter," which has gotten me through much more than that.
I miss having a constant like swimming that will always be my friend no matter what.
I can't wait to get out of here for a couple of days!
Tex Mex with Layne tonight in lieu of gallery party.
Then just coming home to read these silly books.
Why is it that as soon as I stop being so busy, no one wants to be around?
I do love this weather though.
I do wish someone'd share it with me.

I always wondered what kind of drunk I am: apparently, a conceited one. Wowwwwwwwww.

Cause I-III
Lo-ooove
The way you call me baby

And yo-ooou
Take me the way I am

Atlantic City 2009=success!!!
And by success I mean
I look good. Like reallly good.
But my tights are soggy and my makeup is running
And actually I look like a wet dog
But I looked good.
And I love my friends
And the one guy
I gave in and sort of danced with
said he felt awkward
because I'm a junior.
And now I feel old
And soggy
But I look good
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
My ears are ringing
My head is in a knot
My phone is broken
I wish you were here

I love it when it rains here, I really, really do!

90 on Shakespeare paper. I'm willing to deal with that. The fact that some anonymous ass hat said I relied too much on the popularity of the play was countered by a couple "unforgettable presentation!" remarks.

Milo & Otis & Birdsong & ATLANTIC CITY

My grades are just terrible. All of those sophomore year barely-B's are seeking their revenge. Le sigh.

I'm sorry I just want to feel wanted so often
What I really want
Is a snowball fight
And a fireplace