Smallhouse Log

the night before the night before I go home to college

  1. Portraying: "....one that will not ever try to migrate or escape!"
  2. Conveying: Wistfulness
  3. Now Playing: "Piano Man" - Billy Joel
  4. The Saying: "Now all I need is a sheep with mind powers." - Drew, 12/25
  5. When Praying: Safe travel for everyone returning to college; all the women in my life, because they need it far more than the guys

Well, it's been a Christmas break. Before, college was an adventure, and seemed like a really long version of senior trip, with a different set and cast. But now I've been home, and I've done nearly everything I wanted to do here -I guess I can't really call it home, anymore. But I feel kind of emty raight now. Partly because I'm lonely. Not just any lonely; I'm surrounded by my missed family and friends, after all. I'm lonely. Maybe in part because I can't flirt with any girls here; when I'm leaving, what's the point? I think back to when I took Anna to the ballet, nad the nervous, happy thrill it gave me to be out with a wonderful, beautiful girl. But I'm lonely for more than that. Even the feeling of "I want night to coalesce into warm skin to touch my arms" isn't what I'm down with. I want a hand to hold and a mouth to kiss, eyes to look into with soft eyelashes and cool eyebrows. I want a warm body, soft in all the right places to dance with fast or close, and to hold when I'm feeling down. I want a friend willing to watch a movie, sit next to me in church, jump into a mosh pit, or just be gazed at lovingly for hours. I know, I just described Amanda, but I don't really want her back. Just like Lisa, she left a gap in my life, but a whole lot bigger. I know that I dunna hae time for a girlfriend -or at least thats what I've persuaded myself to believe. But really, do I? In any case, the only girl I can think of who I'd wish to be that hand, those eyes, that friend isn't interested in having a steady boyfriend, as far as I understand. I'd like to just keep courting her gently, but I don't know if I'll survive. I think I would, but I shudder at the thought of my [despair? loneliness? desire?] driving me to go for a 'quick fix' that would doubtless be the farthest thing from fixing anything. I don't know how Lisa survives with such strong moras. I'm shifty, and still I'm crumbling. But I'll get better; I always do. Not alone, por supuesto, pero voy.

Necesito afeitarme.

But, hairiness aside, I guess theres not much I can to for it at the moment. Who's up for a quoted conversation, then? Before we start, I should mention that every time I go to a concert that Lisa is also attending, she kicks me at some point. She denies this every time I mention it, as well.

(Lisa hits Ian in the arm.)
Ian: "That wasn't a kick. I'm disappointed."
Lisa: "Give me a break, my leg hurts." (Lisa kicks Ian with her right leg.) "Ow." (Lisa kicks Ian with her left leg.) "There we go."

I saw Ashley Bettman at that concert, too, looking as cute as ever. 'Cute' isn't quite the best word, though it certainly fits. I wonder, does it reflect poorly on me that I've had a crush on her as much as since the day I met her in eigth grade, and never told her? I apologise to everyone who's been reading, as I dunna imagine any of this is very interesting. let me just tell you, then, one of the things I learned this first quarter of college: Every so often, just start dancing.

I won two free tacos today, because I got the winning gumball.

Maybe I shouldn't be listening to Billy Joel's Greatest Hits raight now. But misery loves music almost as much as company. Hmmm, to go Dave Barry on ya'll for a moment, "Soundtrack for Misery" actually would be a good name for an album. Listening to Nick Thomas's set last night probably didn't help; quite possibly, it's what got me in this mood in the first place. Maybe I should listen to my Spill Canvas CD, since it's playing "Piano Man" again anyway.

If I knew where the TV was, I'd have been playing "Dead or Alive 3" all this time.

I did better in Japanese than I expected. Even accounting for some kind of curve, I must have done really well on the final. I'd like my final for HBC back, however, even though my final grade shows that she liked it enough to give it an A. Oh. I haven't really studied this whole time. Hmm. Japanese is going to kill me. *gulp*

This is already a long post. I think I'll end by saying that, usually, I'd be amused by the irony in the dating of these last two posts.

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