Crime pays.

Apparently no amount of snow will prevent me from going to my first American Government and Politics lecture in roughly an hour.

For some reason fighting a blizzid to get to the Gershwin is way more appealing than fighting one to get to a lecture. On government. And politics.

Yesterday I had delicious chicken and potatoes and corn and cornBREAD. Now all that remains is 1/4 of a chicken carcass which has frozen in the refridgerator, which is on at max power to try and refreeze the ice cream. It's not working.

I wish The Sims were here.

I just got a letter containing a Plaza Suite article and my Secret Santa name which was sent by my mother in early December. Wow. Good thing it wasn't a kidney or something.

There has been a new hall light installed right outside my room. It creates a heavenly glow that only surrounds my room and the one across the hall.

It's Australia day. Says Luke.

Charlotte.

Well now it's official.

...

I'm losing my mind and the small amount of ambition that I have left. There is a reason why most people only do this application beastliness once. But c'est la vie. Or rather, c'est MA vie.

My right knee is being overly dramatic. Jell-O Sing and Dance Party 2005 is apparently just now taking its toll. I have tied a bag of ice which is now cold water around said joint using a lovely pink ribbon. This makes me classy and cancels out the bulky Smartwool/Pajama/Elderly Bathrobe ensemble that I have going on at the moment.

I have a total of 57 class days this semester. That's a little less than 2 months, total. I hope beyond all reason that they'll pay off in the long run, and maybe next year will be actual.

I should probably go shower and get on with today.

P.S. Please tell me that I was not the only one who saw the blonde schizophrenic on American Idol last night. I think I only really like that show when they have the horrid auditions.

Au revoir.

January has NEVER flown by so quickly.

Though I never really paid much attention to it in the past, I'm pretty sure the span of time between December 17 and January 17 has never passed so quickly, either. There has never been a better beginning or a better send off to any other month, ever. And I can't wait until next time. Because I can't help but hold on to the notion that every time will be like this time, and no matter how many months have gone by, we'll always just pick right back up where we left off. Because that is beautiful.

Yesterday Page, Kristina, Alison and I rented Sex and the City, season 5, and spent lots of time in Shaw's with the freezer open, deliberating Ben and Jerry's. Eventually the frozen pizza stocker decided our fate, and we spent a lovely afternoon huddled against the cold while eating ice cream. 

There really aren't too many things that are better than that.

Reflect.

I feel as though my entries have become predictably depressing and stupid, dumb, lame, whatever. So let's toss things around a bit.

Does anyone else find it odd that the only way that Massachusetts feels it can reach out to it's pregnant teenagers is to have a group of racially mixed kids surround a bewildered mother and perform a rap about baby safe havens?

Michael Jackson should probably just retreat into Neverland with his animals and his rides and stop making public appearances. He's scary and there is no need. He can leave the 80's music here though. And that Free Willy song, I guess, because as much as I am irritated by movies featuring a kid and their best animal pal, Free Willy really does tug at the heartstrings. I think it's because the kid was a roughian. I always felt bad for his foster parents.

Chocolate is definitely better in color. I wish I had that 3 pound bag of Christmas peanut M&Ms right now. I also wish Ian hadn't eaten the entire quart of Special Edition Edy's Peppermint ice cream, and the entire pint of Hagaan Daz Pineapple Coconut, and the box of Hood orange sherbet. I don't know why I included the offical titles of the frozen delights which I lack.

There are really a very lot of television stations. And an even larger lot of people like me, who think about things like the availability of television stations.

I am freaking box of nitroglycerin like in Crash Bandicoot. There was a time when I was obsessed with Crash Bandicoot, I will not lie. The Sims and I also had a fabulous relationship, once upon a time.

All you need is love. I never really believed that before, but all of a sudden it's completely true. Everyone just needs to be loved, and then everything else will just fall into place.

It says Outgoing Message.

I'm in love with this break. Seriously.

Last night I saw an E! True Hollywood Story on Young Royalty. Apparantly others have begun to realize what a catch Prince Harry is. I may have to move on to Prince Andrea of Monaco, who is also a stud, even though he is named after Ms. M. 

I went to an antique/random crap store today with my mom and Grandmaman. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though those garbage bags full of Beanie Babies in my attic will not fetch the millions I hoped they would.

Natale and Kristina and Alison came to play before their respective 6:00 engagements. We watched I Am Sam. Or at least the necessary scenes. I just remembered that we skipped the answering machine part. Rats.

I wish I could freeze everything exactly the way it is right this second, and keep it that way for awhile. Or maybe if I'm wishing for stuff, I'd freeze June and July and August and keep them for a couple of years.

And now it's time for ice cream, which, besides being delicious, also reminds us that it's impossible for anything to stay frozen forever, and if you want to keep eating, well then you just have to keep going back to the freezer for more.

...Maybe someday my metaphors will make sense.

This has got to be the disturbing accident.

I was sitting here, trying unsuccessfully to translate thoughts into words, when I suddenly realized that I was distracted.

By what, you ask?

Well, by the intense slurping noises made by my dog as he vigorously licked his nonexistant balls.

...

"Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn't fall in love, or be who we are. After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life and people go. But it's comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart. And if you're very lucky, a plane ride away."

I think it is impossible to forget the ones you love.

It's snowing and it's beautiful. They don't get weather phenoms like this in the south.

Past the point.

When I was at "Whitney Field" yesterday, I encountered and recognized people that I remembered, but who thankfully didn't recognize me. Maybe it was that my hair's shorter, and yes, still darker, or maybe it was the fact that I have two eyebrows instead of one. Maybe I'm a little taller, my face a little older, or maybe I really was invisible for that year and a half, and they never saw me at all. Which could be, I think, the ideal in this particular situation. Back then, as much as I thrived off of recognition and longed for attention on the inside, outwardly I decided that it would be best to remain invisible for four years.

I don't know why I thought I could stick it out, because truly, if there is one thing I hate, it's being invisible. But why would they know that? To them, I'll probably always be "That girl...what was her name...the one who did the project on The Birds...". And that is fine fine fine by me.

Back then, I had no expectations. I wanted out, and I wished that time would just hurry up so I could end my annonymous existance. If you had told me five years ago that I wouldn't graduate annonymous and alone, but as the most uninvisible I have ever been in my life, with the most amazing group of people I have ever met, I probably would have peered out from under my eyebrow and weakly smiled without using my eyes. "Right," I would have thought. "The best years of my life? Sure." I would have rolled my eyes and gone to my seat in the front corner of the class, where I would have broken into cold, polyester sweats every time I was called on.

So I guess history repeats itself when you make the same mistakes twice, go figure. Here I am again, in a slightly less severe repeat of freshman year in high school. And yeah, maybe things just suck for me in the beginning. But now I know what all time highs feel like, and I remember what has to be done in order to stop being invisible, and all I want in these next few years is to get them back. I don't know what I'll be when I grow up, I don't know what will happen in the next few months, and let's face it, I don't know where I'll end up. I just want to graduate uninvisible, and live my life uninvisible, and when I think about it, I would do pretty much anything in order to make that happen.

So right now, with 2004 officially gone, and with it any ties to the best, happiest, most amazing year of my life so far, I'm here on the first of 2005, with uncertainty and a blank page to look foward to. I may have done some things for the last time, and there are some experiences I may never have again, and as sad as that makes me sometimes, I have to believe that there's something else, and I'll eventually become who I'm meant to become.

Here's to the all time highs...and to the hope that someday I'll get them back again.

Oh yeah...and here's to Divas Live!, A Decade of Song and Video, dancing, singing, and those beautiful friends that I'm always talking about.