Evie

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 00:31:37 GMT

At these, shall we say, difficult times, you shouldn't be making things any harder for me (and certainly not for her).

Someone told me today how great you are with children. She probably expected a glowing agreement. Honestly, I was just stunned.

Sat, 24 May 2008 17:17:56 GMT

Ipswich.

Fat old guys on rickety ladders.

Skinny young guys on coke and lawn mowers.

Not much else.

Mon, 19 May 2008 05:19:26 GMT

Home at last? Not quite, but not so unhappy to be done with certain drama.

Only problem is, certain drama can text you at any hour of the night and leave you confused and less strictly on the path to getting the fuck over it.

So couple that with a little bit of stress and a lot a bit of exhaustion and what you get is me taking every last item out of my room, cleaning it, organizing it, and hopefully someday soon putting it back, although this "unpacking" business hasn't actually led to me opening a bag yet, and I've been wearing the same bra and mom's socks because the 48 intervening hours have put too much crap on top of my suitcase to crack the top.

There are things I haven't done in a long time - like go to bed before two, sleep completely and utterly alone, plan and stick to a schedule that alotts eight hours per night to sleep, wake up on time and be completely productive.

Everything still feels strange.

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 06:24:05 GMT

For every ten times I overhear college boys being college boys about college girls, I overhear something great, like

"Tell me what can possibly be more masculine about trying to fuck a girl instead of comforting her."

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 00:02:37 GMT

I really like when people do everyday nice things

like catching up to you with the money you dropped crossing the street

or walking you home when you really don't need it

(or especially when you do)

or swooping in with a random complement when you're feeling insecure

or even just clearing your plate from the table

or carrying your homework to the box.

<3

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 16:17:05 GMT

"Maybe you should go to health services."

Or maybe I should get drunker, and eventually find my own bed but not have the sense to stay in it.

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 03:34:59 GMT

I don't want to think about death right now

and if you make me I'll probably just cry

because pouting seems to work these days

because you don't really want to make me unhappy, do you?

a stuck-out lip here, a stamped foot there

a smile and I'm yours when you do the right thing

and you give me a look like I could have anything in the world

and I feel like I could

but I'm a little drained right now

and I don't want to smile like it's all better after a hug

because there's nothing wrong

this just happens sometimes

and like a paradox, it's life.

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 16:31:11 GMT

Uncle Mike is doing pretty well, all things considered

but his godmother died the day after he came out of a coma

and no one's told him yet.

Fri, 21 Mar 2008 02:08:04 GMT

There will probably be a time in my life when it will seem strange to own only one cup, a smattering of mismatched silverware, and enough bowls to feed my neighbors tea in a pinch.

To wake up on a Saturday with 2-3 girls passed out in and around my bed, the door wide open and everybodys arm around someone else.

But I know there will be a time when I will wish I could stay up all night, walk to breakfast feeling guilty in his coat, and hear all of those words but the last three.

Or what he thought would be.

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 07:33:37 GMT

So maybe I'm freaking out a little bit.

But maybe I have great friends, who play me pretty music and take me to parties to meet cute boys but sit and chat on the couch with me when I'm really not up for strangers yet.

And who call assholes assholes when they see them. In the street or the hall. Maybe in class.

But come on now, a spade's a spade.

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 20:21:33 GMT

Comforting: It's 9 AM. He wasn't expecting heels and a miniskirt.

Not Comforting: He's seen you in so much less than that anyway.

Thaaanks roomie darling.

Dorm Life

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 06:54:11 GMT

You say I'm not safe brushing my teeth in my towel, and I laugh, and then a drunk guy who doesn't even live here stumbles in and pees in the shower I'm about to use, and I start to think, and then he comes out and realizes he's not alone, and instead of getting embarassed I make eye contact until he does.

Only my father would refuse to cooperate with financial aid applications, and as my advisor puts it, I'm "struggling", so I've had about ten hours of sleep the last two nights combined. Funny thing is, I could be asleep right now, but the soundtrack my neighbor seems to have chosen for my night is throbbingly loud and his roommate seems to want my roommate and I to know how high he was last night and what the girl he hooked up with anyway looked like.

His friend wants to discuss the pros and cons of "fat chicks", and Bathroom Boy wants to play another game of pong, "but not against the Jews".

Guitar Hero should turn its own volume down when the song is more buzzes than hit notes.

Until they decide to make these walls a lot thicker, I guess I should probably invest in some earplugs.

Sat, 19 Jan 2008 01:26:26 GMT

Maybe it takes me a long time to adjust, but just when I'm starting to figure out this system -- just when I'm not flustered that I ran three errands, knew all three cashiers, and was on at least a smile and fake how are you basis with all but one person I saw in the parking lot -- it's time to leave again.

I haven't finished unpacking yet (but maybe that just means I don't know how to pack right), and while I've been bored, I've certainly had free time, but I don't want that forever, and the futility that screams at you when you first return to this dump (I'm sorry if you're partial to it, and I know that my sweeping generalizations about it don't apply to every single person) just gets sadder the longer you stay.

So why I'm sad to leave I'll never know.

Wed, 26 Dec 2007 06:22:10 GMT

Among my grandmother, my aunt, my cousin's grandmother, and this crazy lady who I adore but do not recall ever seeing before last summer, all four got engaged by way of ultimatums, three are waiting for my nineteen year-old cousin to issue an ultimatum of her own, and none are aware that having a discussion about twentyfive being too old to have a first baby in front of thirty year-old newlyweds has potential to be one hell of an awkward turtle.

Part of having no idea what you're doing with your life is trying to prepare for every possibility...such as, for example, finding that special someone in the next two years so we can date for three and still get married before I get barefoot and pregnant with baby #1.

Which is so not what I want, but I don't know what is, so I'm trying to lay out the lazy housewife route as a fallback (sidenote: my grandmother says I would make an awful golddigger. I don't know how to interpret this).

Thu, 13 Dec 2007 19:22:17 GMT

Package from home: I made you cookies, here's your tuition bill, that boy you used to know was arrested, your father shot a boar.

Not to mention that other question of the guns.

My countdown is turning the opposite way.

Fri, 07 Dec 2007 05:09:17 GMT

I'm shrinking away from writing here because it would be infinitely easier to write it all down in facebook status updates than to explain, painstakingly, the emotions I think I feel and may or may not be able to identify.

Fri, 07 Dec 2007 02:31:38 GMT

Al: So your professor took you to dinner...twice...and offered you alcohol...and this doesn't sound strange to you?

And it still doesn't.

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 00:32:01 GMT

So basically I come here when I have something so angsty to say I know I should be ashamed to think it.

Thu, 29 Nov 2007 05:34:09 GMT

So this one time, stats is kicking my ass, and my WPC snapped at me for talking about shots in front of her when really I was just saying stats, do you want to do stats tonight, I can do stats alone if you don't, it's been a long night I just want to do some stats and go to sleep, and I was embarassed and I shouldn't have been, she should have been, it was her mistake and I was just asking for help in a class, but for whatever reason I was washing my face in the bathroom sink and looking at the showers and wondering if I could make it three more weeks without taking another shower, because I don't miss home but there's something strange about showering with shoes on and counting on your fingers and toes the drunk men you know have peed right where you're standing, and then I was sitting in the lounge, wrapped up in a blanket and sipping on some tea, and Al was asking if it worked out with that guy, and I didn't know exactly which one immediately, and he judged me with his eyes and told me he was right, it never works out once a booty call happens, and I just don't think that's true, because just because it didn't once doesn't mean it never will, and sometimes exasperation drives me to right in this thing, it's been silent for months and now here I am updating almost biweekly, maybe feeling isolated because my phone is lost in shipping, somewhere, and isn't all I want connection?

Mon, 19 Nov 2007 05:25:40 GMT

Iffy day:

When you're out of bed by 8:30 (thanks Walter), back in bed by the time your roomate gets home from tai chi, sleeping soundly through her alarms going off later, waking up to the tiny noise of the water boiler switch after that, studying hardcore for two hours and taking a study break to go nuts remaking your bed, studying again, botching a meal credit shopping trip, studying some more, and taking a (freaking cold) midnight walk to the minimart because you just can't take that weird stain on the mirror anymore, never mind that it says Fidel across the top in dry erase marker that never quite went away but it makes you think of Cuba in the morning so really it's not too bad, but damnit that streak is annoying!

Two pages into a ten page paper and watching the last traces of my sanity taunt me from ten feet away.

Fri, 09 Nov 2007 23:29:17 GMT

Possibly the least sane conversation ever:

(voicemail from my mother) "...I haven't heard from you in a while and I got to thinking that if you were dead or had gone missing I wouldn't know who to call to find that out...I hope you're still around...call me soon, I'll try to come down Providence if I can't get in touch with anyone..."

(during the conversation when I called her back)

Me: "I was trying to look up the police log."
Mom: "To see if your brother was in it?"
Me: "No...was he?"
Mom: "Well he damn well shouldn't have been, why do you think he was in the police log?"
Me; "I didn't!"
Mom: "Well you obviously did or you wouldn't have brought it up! Why did you think he was in the police log?"

This interspersed with a running commentary on what children are and aren't afraid of the Santa at the mall, who by the way was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with red pants and a beard, maybe they want something more traditional.

Wed, 07 Nov 2007 04:30:00 GMT

The pieces are falling in and it's so good to just take a study break.

That feeling where your heart is exploding because your knuckles are touching and you can't breathe when you're lying together but it's so much worse when you pull away.

Ecstasy and terror, that dream where you're falling, but it doesn't stop when you wake up and you don't need sleep anymore anyway.

Wed, 10 Oct 2007 21:25:04 GMT

I just had the most uplifting thought process about the Cartesian plane.

And a little bit about vicegrip pliers, and Karl Marx came into the end of it.

Hooray for midterms?

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 15:30:28 GMT

How do you explain to someone whose mother went to Harvard and whose father went to Yale that, at home, your cousins live nextdoor and ride around on motorized shopping carts, that your dad's an unemployed construction worker, that your mom has a Boston accent, and that your brother spent a significant amount of time during high school fixing up cars?

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 20:20:38 GMT

Girl of 18,
Fell in love with everything.

What if that was the end of the song? Or really, the beginning, just not of the end it's the middle of?