None of that side saddle stuff.

So there's this really grotesque animated ad that makes false promises of free iPods and features an unnecesarily lifelike cockroach scurrying around, and every time I see it out of the corner of my eye, I freak out a little bit.

Because nothing is more disgusting than a cockroach. Except for maybe Alec Baldwin, but on a different level. 

Someone should probably just give me an iPod.

Linens and Things should probably give me a check.

I've become the equivilant of a crack addict with this thumb chewing problem of mine. 

I think I want to make movies.

It's a good thing my career aspirations are attainable, realistic AND practical.

Welcome to Neverland, Children! Ahaha.

At the risk of speaking too soon, I think it is safe to say that things have been falling into place rather nicely, and as regular as I could expect them too. Which is restoring, and reassuring, for now at least.

Today was lazy, and, shock of shocks, RAINY, but I made the most of it by assisting some shower installers, evesdropping on said shower installers, learning where the water shutoff in my house is, vacuuming, catching up on 
some vintage Dawson's Creek, and slowly working my way through the array of baked goods that have accumulated in my house. I fit in a brief nap, before the chillin came over for a celebration.

Later on, we had a very elegant Family Dinner followed by two fierce, hour long games of Egyptain Ratscrew with Kristina, Page, Maya, Dan, and Ian that for me, resulted in 0 wins but a few damaged nerves in my right palm.

Boston with Lizzy in the morning, followed by a Saturday full of work and festivities to fill the void that my family will leave as they cart off to Falmouth for the weekend. Hopefully the weather will be less The Day After Tomorrow and more May.

Tell the folks at home.

Yesterday afer work, I was fortunate enough to attend the seniors' last Drama Club meeting, which was so surreal and wonderful and entertaining. I can't believe how grown up they all are.

What's even weirder is thinking about how grown up and old and in charge my darlingest "sophomores" are. Seems like only yesterday they were popping on oversized bows and letting me spit food all over them.

But I think what's weirdest for me is watching them gearing up for senior year, which still feels like yesterday, but somehow morphed into almost two years. And the fact that I look at all of them, and see how they've grown up, makes it blaringly obvious that I should have done the same, but I look at myself and see absolutely no difference. I guess it all depends on where you're looking from, but TIME absolutely kills me, and I cannot seem to comprehend its concept, try as I might. 

Basically, I'm so so so proud of all of you and everything that you've done, and although it's so different from the outside looking in, which you'll all find out in positively no time at all, it's amazing to watch it all unfold, and watch traditions be carried on and evolved.

"Time is chasing after all of us, isn't that right?"

Yes, well, the only problem is that I was never a very fast runner.

Anyway, gear up kids, because this weekend there will be some LONG ANTICIPATED watching of The Wizard of Oz while simultaneously playing Dark Side of the Moon. While I'm thinking of it, what's the record that, if you play it backwards, does something either cool or freakishly scary? 

But first I have to learn how to freaking CLOSE Linens and Things tonight, which means staying there from 5-10. God, I love the workforce so much.

Choose.

Well, I can atest to the fact that this Star Wars thing really is all that it's cracked up to be. I actually found myself relating themes from the movie to real life, which, I think, is what the Freaks do. I can't get over the genius that it took to think that whole saga up. I'm always so impressed with fantasy writers, because I have a hard enough time finding words to write about things that are actual, and to have the imagination to dream up alternative galaxies and worlds and languages in the manner of George Lucas, Tolkien, and JK Rowling and then have the ability to develop those ideas into such impossibly plausible books and movies is INSANE. JK Rowling, especially. God, I believe that wizards are real and that I'm missing out. Who knows how many times my memory has been modified? Um...I'm going to stop. 

I also realized that George Lucas is basically immortal, and so is everyone in Hollywood. Long after he's dead, people will STILL be talking about these movies, and the people in them. Millions of years from now, maybe even after the...Rapture (?), some aliens or whoever could find a time capsule with all sorts of movies in it, and they'll know who the stars of those movies were, too. Nobody's ever going to forget about Audrey Hepburn or Tom Cruise or Natalie Portman, because they've been so well documented and have somehow made a distinct impression on culture. They'll never be invisible, and they'll basically live forever through their movies, or books, or television shows, or what have you.

So, at the risk of sounding terribly Dark Side/power hungry/narcissistic... I want to be immortal, too. Now more than ever.

Freak Out.

I have officially moved out of UMass. It's official because my naked dorm was inspected by a power hungry RA who pointed out a few dust bunnies and proceeded to perch her sweaty self on my bed and watch as I swept them. Degrading? Maybe. Did I care? No.

Good bye, dustbunnies the size of my fist.
Good bye, Mutants.
Good bye, popcorn bedtime stories that just turned into blatant mockeries.
Good bye, Thirsty for the Atlantic Thursdays.
Good bye, Loser, Christine, Deb, Sir Nicolas, Linda, and all of the pixilized friends.
Good bye, Dihty Bihd, Natale the Scarecrow, and all of the other knick-knacks with names.
Good bye, Thstefanie.
Good bye, Professor Janice and Writing 112, aka The Class That Didn't Get It.
Good bye, Worcester Wednesdays and flavored soft serve holidays.
Good bye, Tuesday/Thursday Breakfast Club.
Good bye, Quiet Hours.
Good bye, Zen Garden and Cotton Eyed Joe Nightly Performances.
Good bye, Adorable Baby Ducks.
Good bye, "UCard".
But not good bye Samm, cause I love ya.
Also, not good bye American Politics...cause I still have to take that final.

...It's been real.

Hello, Summer? This should be interesting.

You fight to hold on, you fight to let go.

I have three days left of freshman year, of UMass in general.

Three days in which to write papers, study for tests, and transform the dorm back into a cinder block cell equipped with high speed internet.

Originally I had big, elaborate, profound realizations here. But I realized that they simply weren't worth it. Whatever. What's important is that I'm basically done and I can almost taste that dirty water. I can't prevent the inevitable now any more than I could have prevented it months ago.

So I'm going to continue writing papers and studying for tests and praying that Samm's back lesions do not lead to...well, I think we both know what skin lesions lead to, don't we? coughspithackpelvicexamssnortwheezelick

Annnnd there is a moth in the room. I will not rest until he has perished.

Aaaaaaayup.

Dry as a bone in the Sahara.

Every time I eat cotton candy (and I literally mean EVERY time, ever since I was like, five) all I can think of is its uncanny resemblance to fiberglass insulation and how much it would hurt if you got the two mixed up.

Icky.

A poster girl with no poster.

Your Birthdate: January 29

Your birthday on the 29th adds a tone of idealism to your nature.  You are imaginative and creative, but rather uncomfortable in the business world.  You are very aware and sensitive, with outstanding intuitive skills and analytical abilities.  The 29 reduces to 11, one of the master numbers which often produces much nervous tension.  This is the birthday of the dreamer rather than the doer.  You do, however, work very well with people.

Okay so after I did mine, I put in some of my friends' birthdays to see if they ALL sucked a little, but alas they do not. January 29th, way to be.

I am unbelievably ready for summer and even more unbelievably ready for fall. I'm getting the impression that both are going to be considerably different from last summer and last fall, which is kind of unfortunate and really wonderful, consecutively. I hear The Riverway is breathtaking in September..

Dreamer rather than a Doer? Yeah, we'll see. I don't think doer is even a real word.

It is May 1st. Shouldn't we all be dancing around a pole with ribbons? Was May Day the origin of exotic dancing?