Melodrama

It's only Monday and I feel as if two days have passed since sunday. Really, the first part of the day and the second part are so utterly distinct it's unnerving.


Orli is back, and for that I am glad.


I'm eager for Friday to come. Not quite so eager for people to leave-- even though I am ready to be done with shows for the season. I need to recoup. Katrina was right. Blink and it would be December. Blink again and May is here. Odd.



Anyhow, I'm going to blow this pop stand and get home. rawr.

request:


update, Kat, update! Where are you in the world? Also, it's your turn, yo.

One year and I don't know how it's happened.


Alison, I love you.

I think that it's just come to this.






Comment to be added.

Despite my inherent behavior and rather dotty way of going about things, I'm not five. Nor am I inattentive.



I'm tired and frustrated.


Oddly, the last couple of days have lead me to speaking with people whom I haven't been in touch with for simply ages. Strange, but nice in most respects. And I CANNOT WAIT until Jes gets to Chicago. Two weeks! Only!

( girls )

I think that, perhaps, I shouldn't drink anymore. I am incapable of moderation and it leaves me melancholy. I feel hemingway-esque. lame.



I'm writing more than I've written in years and only half of it is utter crap. So, that's something. There are adventures and then there are adventures and I miss my girls in shades and sloppily measured heartbeats which I cannot properly communicate here. I want to live in the same place as all of them and have wonderful afternoons of danger and tea but my feet won't let me stay still and my heart won't let me go back to Atlanta. Not quite so soon as this.


I think it's still possible that I'm a touch drunk right now even though I've slept for a handful of hours.



Davy, you ought to visit me. Won't you, please?



I feel rather pleased that Christina loves Brautigan as much as I do now because of me. Do you hear that, Myke? I'm spreading the wonderfulness one vulnerable soul at a time.

The snow is crisp and cold and clean. I don't understand the aversion to it that so many people up here have. "It's too cold to be out in the snow." But, really, isn't that the point? I cannot stand to sit in the house and I enjoy long walks but I find I haven't anywhere to go and my neighborhood isn't the best. Still and all. I'd rather walk than sit and stew in my thoughts.


bleh.

The snow is amazing. I'll never get sick of staring at it even if it is a touch chill. And even that doesn't bother me. Chris says my blood is thickening up. Which sounds, well. It makes me think of Tyler and "My blood is too thick!" Which has nothing to do with anything save too much drinking and silliness.



It's funny to think that a year has past since the last January. It's strange to think that the reason I'm here is Jaclyn. What a very odd life it is.

I cannot believe that there is actually a television show that consists of people texting in this random, uncharismatic boy in an ambercrombie shirt. Does he pay people or do people pay him? I do wonder. How would one go about getting that job? I mean, really.


Drinking does not make me wise. But I've learned something about limits. I feel like I'm a scientist and I go about thinking, "I wonder what will happen if..." and then I have to experiment. Which is all well and good, though I don't like the fact that part of this process is acquiring people to think ill of me. But, I cannot help that. Well, that's not entirely true. I don't care to take the steps necessary to avoid that from happening is truer.


I like laughing. And I like the sound of other people laughing. And I like collecting stories. I've got a good many more now. I've started writing down the long one-- a week ago, actually. And it's still not even half finished. I hope I can get it onto paper before it fades.


I wonder if I'll be ready to move on from this place when another year passes. I wonder what will happen then.

It's nice to finally have a clean desk. I wish my room were only as organized.



Motivation is difficult to come by, it seems. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm getting a great deal done in spurts, resting, and then getting more done. Which, perhaps isn't quite as good as a steady pace would be. But, ah well.


Ave Q opens Friday and it's rather good. I will be estatic to have both shows open so that we can do some of the other housework we have been neglecting in the department. Not as happy as some people, I suspect, however.