Sorry my entries have been somewhat sporadic lately. I've been swamped with middle-of-quarter catching up... Last week, I had a rough draft of an essay to turn in ("The Nature of Ownership: An Ahistorical Attribute of Childhood."), this week I had a final exam to turn in (ten fucken pages about a bunch of books I read, but didn't particularly enjoy -- and all of it written in like, two days...), tonight there was a presentation ("Jean-Paul Sartre's 'Childhood of a Leader': A Modern Psychological Diagnosis of Lucien Fleurier"), and a paper (reflection on this week's reading, all about junkies and child molesters), plus a long email to my seminar leader about why I skipped going to Monday seminar, because I felt it would have been a huge waste of my brain cells. Oh yeah, and a long, long presentation about an interview I did.
Next week, I've got two final papers due, (The "Nature of Ownership" one, and "An Overview of Dissociative Identity Disorder"), a presentation to do about DID, a "creative" project (ha! ...haven't even thought about that one yet...), and...
Right.
Somebody pity me: I didn't learn my lesson about NOT TAKING TWENTY STUPID CREDITS IN ONE QUARTER. Somebody pity me for being as dumb as I am about taking care of my own sanity.
Right.
David called me this morning.
First of all, it should be mentioned that David never sleeps. I've known David for (this is scary) nine years now, and in all that time, I think I've seen him actually sleeping for about an hour. Since David never sleeps, it apparently didn't occur to him that I might not be entirely awake at 9.30 AM.
When I picked up the phone, I had no idea who it was. Not even when David said, "you got a pen?" ("Yes.") Not even when he said, "And a paper?" ("Uh-huh...") "Okay, take this number down..."
I swear, only David could get me to take down a number, given to me over the phone by a potential stranger, at 9.30 in the morning. I think it's long-distance telepathy. Even through a crappy phone connection, and across a few thousand miles, even after a couple of years of not really talking much, David is, mysteriously, my most comforting friend. Somehow, despite all of the aforementioned bullshit work, I'm feeling sort of mellow and okay about stuff. Part of that, I suppose, is that I really suspect David would be quite proud of me if he could see me now. I think it's good to talk to old friends (NINE fucken years!) sometimes, and to sort of imagine yourself on that day when you first met that old friend, and to compare your then-self with your now-self.
From neurotic, anxious, geeky, clumsy, gawky, knobby-kneed 14-year-old, to slightly smarter, slightly more motivated, slightly less neurotic, slightly more adept at hiding my clumsiness, totally geeky 23-year-old... (Well, almost 23...) It's really been quite a trip, the past nine years. I'll never forget the first time I saw David... He wasn't wearing any shoes, just walking around in these white socks. He cracked me up. And me? Man, what a little klutz I was. It's really pretty cool that ANYBODY who saw me on that evening is still willing to speak to me. Overall, though, I'm doing okay for myself. I'm pretty happy with what I've got, and what I've made for myself. I mean, I've got awhile to go before I quit thinking I'm a dork, but generally, I'm pretty pleased. David, who, humiliatingly, met me when I was 14, would probably be astounded. Which is cool.
I solicited donations from people today for Books To Prisoners, on behalf of the Evergreen Writing Center. It wasn't exactly a party, but I did notice that almost every time I walked up to somebody and started harassing them for money, they'd cough up a few cents. It comes from my vast experiences of hassling people... The best way to get somebody to give you money? Grin really wide, look like a total fucken dumbass, and say, "you know you wanna..."
Don't ASK me why that works, but it does...
The Evergreen Academic Fair was today. Over the summer, I'm going to do an independent contract on writing creative non-fiction (that is, I'm going to write my fucken book, and I'm going to get credit for it), and I'm going to take a four-credit Intro. to Linguistics class. I cannot even tell you how happy I am with those classes. I mean, THIS is what I love... I'm gonna work on my book, and I'm gonna learn about how languages work. Working on that book is like having a super-prolonged orgasm. Learning about language-stuff is just fucken fun. More than fun: deliciously fun.
I can't even tell you how pleased I am about this...
Plus, it'll give me a TON of time to spend with Jake, and to do cool "summer" things. Maybe by the end of summer, we can climb Mt. Rainier. Ah, hell, even if we can't, my classes will be cool, and spending tiem with Jake will be cool. Every time we see each other, one of us is zipping around; maybe taking these courses will soothe some of that for us...
It's really late. My eyes are sort of bugging out. I'm going home now. Er... to bed now. To sleep. Yeah, that's it.
Night...
~Helena*