New Plan

I'm sick and tired of letting all of this get to me. Nobody is worth internalizing like this, he has more than shown me that hes not worth my time. Lord only knows why I let this torture me as long as it has. So new plan. No more lonliness. Fuck him.

That, a good bra, many more runs in the park, eyeliner, and tackling some new music.

We shall see.

Well Fuck

Twenty Two Hours Later and me and Amtrak are SO not on good terms right now. Even if it was a fucking gorgeous ride. From whence did it get to be Saturday night???

Spring Break

San Francisco, yes I did make it alive. So far just chillin in town. Ran into LC folk walking down the Embarcadero today, it was...hella weird. Unseasonable Portland-esque rain, how curious. Spent the evening wandering china town, and irish pubs, with my sister getting hit on by men old enough to be my father. It...rocked. Well, Ok, so they hit on her, and then me by fortuitous default. But what can I say, I'm an attention hag.

I will not succumb to the dorm plague of death.

*Sniffle wheeze hack*

Lets Play Peggy's Writing A Paper!!!

Humbly and respectfully dedicated to ClayEaton =)

Episode One:

Thank christ my triple mocha is finally catching up with me. You know your fucked when the excitement of the day involves running across the ravine in the ravine. (Yes...what the heck is the rain concept thing???). Yes, lets just say that Operation Don't Be A Stalker...a miserable failure. Mmmmm, yes. Breaking and entering, not so much qualifies.

As of 1:10 AM
Buffy Listening Tally: 7.
Pages Written: 1 1/4 (single spaced)
Random Thought of the moment: what's the minimum height at which you can drop a bananana and have it squish?



Oh Itunes. Where would I be with out JPop and Disney Soundtracks at 1 am??


As of 1:52 AM
Buffy Listening Tally: 12
Pages Written: 1 1/2...yes that's why I am a liberal...liberal interpretation of time
Random Thought of the moment: "Movin' to the country...gonna eat me a lot of peaches...Peaches come from a can, they were put there by a man, in a factory dowwwn town...I poke my finger down inside, make a little room for an ant to hide...natures candy and my hand on can...or pie"

Lord I'm bad at sleep deprivation.

Millions of peaches...peaches for me...millions of peaches...peaches for free.

As of 2:57 AM
Buffy Listening Tally: 12 (Perhaps I'm finally free of the scourge???)
Pages Written: 2 2/3 EEEEEEEEE
Random Thought: Bob Dylan...what a huge friggin pot head. It really makes you wonder, maybe popular musicians in this day and age just don't do enough soft core drugs. Maybe that's the problem

Why is it that whenever I eat a Twix bar I just think of that commercial where the girl friend is like "Honey, do I look fat in these pants?" and the poor guy, obviously thinking "Oh crap yes your ass looks ginormous" just stuffs both bars into his mouth. Translation: MMMMM...Crunchy crunchy sugar fix.

Why isn't sugar spelled shewger?

Damn the English language.

And damn my conclusion not taking up enough space. Or, well, any at all.

As of 4:09

I'm at that icky point in the evening/morning where my ears hurt from the perpetual headphones and my back hurts from slouching all night and yea generally whiney why the crap do I keep doing this to myself. I coulda wrote this last weekend. Probably woulda been a better idea than getting trashed. Usually. But hey, its 4 in the morning, the perfect excuse not to trust my judgement :-D

Dylan. Trippy. Yes. Bed.

No hope for me and logic. Funny thing, I think everybody here coulda told me that, oh, years ago. Oh well, I'm slow.

Take Three Bites Before You Hate

Another stolen five minute bite of introspection. I wear them like beads on a necklace, shimmery topaz and amber moments of sanity and brilliance strung amid the chaos. I string it around my neck, to be reminded, to be admired. These days, I palm the stones, holding on, feeling the weight fit neatly in the cavern of my hand. It almost reconjurs up those moments of solitude, and I can at the very least remember, envision the silence. Even if I can't make it there in the foreseeable future.

Longer posting brewing. I hope. For now its sunny days and petulant perpetual deja vus.

New Low or alternately MWUAHAHAHAHAH SUCKERS

The new magic semi-secret plan of the week was to abandon breakfast and start going to lunch again instead. I figure food might help the whole energy level conundrum, and I can go with out coffee and still have half a chance of wakefulness in 9:40 AM Music Theory.

HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

Or pass out while sitting up in one of those heinously uncomfortable bandie chairs. While doing an ear training test. I officially RULE.

New magic semi-secret plan of the week, take two: Take lots and lots of leisurely frolics in Tryon.

And suck up RIDICULOUSLY to all the Evans authorities between now and scholarship decisions on Friday.

;-)

Let Go

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."--Joseph Campbell

That's the new plan of the moment, though excruciating to stick to. I run and run and run, just to hold on to a shred of sanity, to maintain even superficial control over my mind, and never quite get there. I've been so wholly distracted, all week long, and all I know is I can't keep going like this. I can't do the things I need to do to be here, in this state of mind, I can't function. I can't eat, unless someone leads me by the hand, I can't sleep, I don't do homework. I've even been rebelling from Evans, lord only knows why that made sense in my head. I haven't practiced since Tuesday. Curly and I were deliciously late to band Tuesday night, definitely one of the bigger thrills I've had in a while (note to self: how sad). I'm walking around like a total space cadet, shit, I even zone out in the middle of rehearsals. Right in the middle of measures. Of solos, just, oh look there goes my brain. Not even shiny object distractions, just, like, screw this my mind has better things to occupy itself with. Who needs Mozart anyway???

This kid is bad news. And so is my research paper. And my mother.

So I'm letting go of the chaos. I'm making my peace with disorder. I can't plan my life into easy happiness compartments, nor would I want to. I will enjoy this, whatever it is, or turns out not to be. This is, this is it. And if you haven't tried, if you haven't risked anything and fallen flat, you haven't really ever lived.