Write Here, Write Now

Rode in a taxi in Philadelphia
Saw Frightened Rabbit Live
Also Halloween and a Nightmare on Elm Street
Voted!

Going down singing.

I don't ever want to lose this feeling. It's okay to dance and sing. I don't look good, and I don't sound good, and will be judged. But I sing because other people sang, so maybe someone else will sing because of me. The man behind me sang. I thought about being in love and running.

"Yes we are terrible for each other, and yes, we are a disaster, but doesn't your heart race for a hurricane?"

You are the love of my life so far.
(tomorrow's just a day away)

Last night, I had my second nightmare since being at school. It was, again, about zombies, but much more terrifyingly intimate than usual. I had to watch the evolution.

He is boring, and I still want to touch him. I don't know if it's wanting to be touched, or trying to replace the touch. I'm no good.

I'm so far away from foundation Chloe. Hopefully, she is responsible and doesn't think "what would an adult do?"

More than anything, I miss telling you what I did today.
I want to be passionate and vulnerable and innocent and yours.

Despite the want,
I will have to relearn how to love you.

I'M IN A GLASS BOX OF EMOTION!!!

I don't work hard enough. I don't produce enough. I don't learn enough. I don't think enough.
Maybe I've been happy for too long.
Maybe I need a little heartache.

I Always Want It to Be Your Handwriting

Inspired by "Confessions" by Usher, I replied to a letter with an envelope entirely covered in confessions. I should've left the inside empty.

Facts in Figures

1. I didn't know how to spell my middle name until I was 13 (my parents still might not, because they didn't know then either). It's Kathryn, but spelled "Katherine" on my first library card.

2. I've been organizing M&Ms in rainbow order pretty much my whole life, and always ate the green ones last. Thus, for my first Valentine's day ever with a boyfriend, he got me two bags of exclusively green M&Ms.

3. I remember the dates of the first time I told JoeKat I liked him, my first kiss, the first time I told Dave I liked him, my first kiss with Dave, my last kiss with Dave, my first kiss with Jimmy, my last kiss with Jimmy, and my first kiss with Jeff.

4. A talent that may be semi-exclusive to me is my ability to carve little faces into apples and other fruits with my thumbnails. I've done elaborate stuff before, but it's tough to do detail work.

5. During my junior year of high school, our drumline's show was "Fear." In order to get into the mood, we had a Saturday circle time to share our biggest fears. I expressed that my biggest fear was that my brother would die an untimely death before me. The following Tuesday (January 20th), my brother got hit by a car and was in the hospital for several days.

6. I am extremely exclusive about what songs on my iPod get 5 stars, and I rate everything. Of the 1194 songs, 6 of them have 5 stars. They are: Hallelujah- Rufus Wainwright, Soco Amaretto Lime- Brand New, American Pie- Don McLean, Going to California- Led Zeppelin, You Can't Always Get What You Want- The Rolling Stones, and Wish You Were Here- Pink Floyd. Additionally, I will never keep a 1 star song on my iPod.

7. The first riff I ever learned on guitar was the intro to Wish You Were Here. Matt taught it to me some Monday on a drumline when our parents were a little late in picking us up. That was when I still had my enormous crush on him. It made me think of him until the summer after, when Dave sent me a picture of a beach sunset saying he and his uncle had just dueted Wish You Were Here.

8. I have never broken a bone. Never had surgery. Never smoked a cigarette. Never been drunk. Never had a peanut butter & jelly sandwich. Never been out of the country or to any state that doesn't border the Atlantic.

9. Nearly every single school day since I was five, I ate a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Lucky Charms were the Saturday morning and special occasion cereal, though they eventually fell out of favor when I started sleeping in past 11. When I tried eating them again years later, I went to my fall-back strategy of eating all the wheat then gorging myself on marshmallows. I couldn't do it. It was then I knew I was no longer a child.

10. My dream job doesn't necessarily have perks or a good paycheck, but it would force me to interact with new information and learn all the time. My only passion is for learning new things, and that makes it hard to declare a major. I went through the list of every single course offered at Temple, leaving out no major, and made a list 10 pages long, 2 columns, in 10 pt. font of classes I want to take. *sigh*

11. For my first Christmas, my pop-pop got me a stuffed bear, who was subsequently named Bear, Mr. Bear, or "Bear Bear." For my first Easter, my nana got me the 1993 limited edition Crayola-Hallmark rabbit. He came to be named Bobbers. Those are my buddies that I've had forever. Bobbers I loved so hard that he had to be completely replaced by my aunt Jeanne, who sewed me a new rabbit. Bear is still in pretty good condition for all the lil' Chloe lovin' he got.

12. Of every talent and ability I've been blessed with, I still wish I could sing.

13. I love my little brother more than anyone on the planet. It makes me sad that my talents are really visible, socially admired, where he will never be very recognized for his ability to talk to people. He's part of my inspiration for becoming social.

14. Emily and Jeff are also part of my inspiration when I'm consciously trying to be approachable and sociable. It's working. Some of the things are becoming habit, now. It makes me feel warm all over.

15. Sometimes, I have a vague fear that my life is so unbelievably good right now that I will die young to make up for having an over-balance of satisfied living, or that I have a chemical imbalance that is the opposite of depression.

16. My cursive is absolutely gorgeous, if I don't say so myself.

17. One of the few things I am consciously proud of is the Villanova Trash Bowl where I took third place highest individual scorer. There weren't too many people at the competition, admittedly, but Garnet Valley was the only team that brought any freshmen, so I outdid all the other kids except Jeff and some stranger.

18. I am only consciously aware of my fears of cars and heights.

19. I love to climb trees.

20. I once accidentally coined the word "quilty" when attempted to type guilty. In my mind, it's a very good feeling, like a moment where every good part of your life and personality and those of your friends has been stitched together to tell your story.

21. Fiction is usually hard for me to read. For whatever reason, three years ago saw me enter a trend of almost exclusively reading non-fiction and classics that have stood the test of time. Even in Sci-Fi, my fiction love, I tend to stick to the masters.

22. My mom is a Dutch immigrant. The only Dutch I know is a Christmas song and the word "stoop." That's right bitches. Best verb in Philadelphia has the same heritage I do.

23. New York City has a few of my favorite memories, including singing "Bitches Ain't Shit" in the business district. Softly.

24. My dorm currently contains a contraband microwave, candle, and screwed in accessories.

25. I went to Baptist school from kindergarten to 5th grade. I was a regular ol' fashioned hateful, bigoted Christian, to the point of trying to convert my Jewish cousins and "not believing" in atheists.

26. I have 5 voicemails saved on my phone that carried over from my old phone. The first is my dad singing happy birthday to alert me to the fact I finally had a cell phone. One is all my friends calling from Hawaii to wish me Happy Birthday during the band trip. I doubt I speak to any of them anymore. The other three are drunk dials from Schade and Jeremy.

27. There is a mural on the back of my door back home that contains almost all of my favorite quotes, and a few little smidges of artwork. It's not finished yet.

28. My favorite smells include bonfire, the day after a grass cutting, honeysuckles, boy smell, laundry smell, vanilla, and the ocean. It makes me sad there are not many descriptive terms available to describe smells except by comparison to smells that already exist.

29. When I was first introduced to xkcd and A Softer World, I read every single comic of theirs available at the time within one week of first discovery.

30. I love who I am and the process of becoming the best me possible.

Making

The fear of ending up alone has never been mine, though I don't expect any sort of happy ending. Cynic that I am, I assume that I will settle with someone I will eventually come to disdain. Or, less terrible, I wind up with someone I utterly adore but live with the constant fear they will leave, because I am not good enough.

Tuesdays do not generally hold any particularly exciting event, but for some undetermined reason, I was especially productive today in my creative endeavors. Throughout the day, I wrote three letters and a postcard. I drafted and illustrated two "letter-books" which will be mailed out following the close of this weekend. With the paper scraps left over from composing those books, I fashioned "A RATHER BITTY BOOK." It is the text describing my college experience until this point. Currently, it is only text, but I have grand aspirations to fill in with blobby sketches. Even my comic book saw a slight revival today. In the midst of all this creation, I even remembered to print out my absentee ballot form and look up this horrific instrument. I suspect it is evil.

"Teapotahedron"

Last night heralded my second extensive wiki-linking spree of college. One of my "Mosaic" assignments was to create a "Freudian videogame," so I looked into the process of game development, something which holds personal interest for me as well. Within the very inclusive "Game development" article, I linked out to roughly 5 articles. From there, an adventure ensued. I learned that the original model that became the standard graphics test figure, the Utah teapot, physically exists in a museum. In 1983, there was a North American Video Game Crash. Who knew?

Some weeks back, Temple hosted a student groups gathering at the Bell Tower. I collected some literature. Signed up on some listservs. Good times. However, I didn't get around to reading the history of Palestine provided by "Students for Justice in Palestine" group. Off the bat, I support human rights. Also, I don't support propaganda. While I'm definitely learning a lot by looking up key players in the conflict, bias abounds.

At the party Saturday night, the friend from my floor I brought tried drinking for the first time. She kept to the limit agreement, and only got giggly and loud. Also from our floor and my trumpet friend, Katy, was also loud and giggly. Together, all three of us sat on a couch devising schemes to talk to boys. During all of this, a guy I'd met earlier in the night, who was somewhat drunk at this point, came over and attempted to put a charm bracelet on my wrist. He told me it meant a lot to somebody, but he didn't know who, but probably someone named Zack because that's what it said on the heart. His name was Adam. I put the bracelet in my memory box.

Oops, Forgot to Change the Title

I'm so mean to my mom. I speak with her as I speak with everyone else, truthfully and very bluntly. She asked me if I would spend the night at her house when I'm home for the weekend. I said, "No." She asked me why. I told her that if I'm only going to be home for two nights, I want to spend them in "my bed" in "my room," and that her house didn't even have a room for me. She immediately said her goodbyes and hung up. Well, I knew I fucked up.

My mom likes to think that I don't like being at her house "because it's a shithole" or "I don't have my own room." Her old place was a shithole. This one is not. It's not about having "a room." It's that no room will ever be my room like the current one is.

The truth is, I don't like spending time there because there is nothing to do except watch TV or go on the internet, and I hate to spend my time watching a screen. When I suggest going to the park or for a walk, she will walk the minimum distance, and we go home. She's not fun to talk to. She doesn't know anything about my life. Occasionally, we play cards. Being home, I want to spend my limited time doing everything I can't here. I want to spend no time watching TV.

She texted me back, complaining that she doesn't make a lot of money, but that next time, she'll try to get a three bedroom. That's fiscally irresponsible. I'm 18. I'm never going to live with her again. If I visit, I'll take the couch.

I responded:
"Mom, it's not about the room. This dorm is "my room" and "I live here," but the room at dad's is simply where I've been forever, and may possibly never be again. No where will ever take its place. I'll definitely visit you, but just not spend the night."

She responded:
"I hate my life and hurt more then you know.u"

Fuck.

New York, New York

• I fell asleep on the bus after doing calc made my head hurt
• I figured out the Streets v. Ave before Steve had to tell me
• But I used the sun, so late night, had no idea
• Avenues suck
• They are so damn long
  
• I saw "Goodburger: Home of the Goodburger" and took a picture
• I ate a cupcake that was actually a cupcake shaped cake
• We ate at a store that exclusively sells macaroni
• New York has sooooo many stores
• How do people even have time to buy all this stuff?!
  
• We went to Theodore Roosevelt's birth place
• We went to a store called "Alphabets"
  
• It was delightful
  
• New York is different from Philadelphia in ways I never imagined
  
• NYU has fewer black kids than I expected
• However, we met one of the few other ones while in a park together
• NYU has an unbelievably good business school?!
  
• I rode the NYC subway system
• There was a green market
• I wanted vegetables :(
  
• I now feel capable of up and going wherever I please
• Went went to "the" Macy's that has 9 stories and wooden escalators
• I had no idea wooden escalators had ever existed
• Steve's workplace is very "unique"
• I want to eat all of the soaps there
• Put them right in my mouth
• The couple next to me on the bus was SUPER cute
• What with their subtle hand-holding
  
• I thought a lot while fitfully napping on the way back
• I was very scared I would not make the subway
• Because I got into Philly at 11:40
• And the subways close at 12
• I caught the last Northbound train
  

Saying Goodbye to You

and Goodmorning to the Sun

Today, math blew my mind. It was so pretty sitting on my white sheet of paper, and I thought about its visual aesthetics, then about its purity in expressing the universe. Humans are currently capable of expressing just about anything they want in mathematical notation, but I wonder if there is a more efficient, currently undiscovered symbol language.

I had a lengthy argument over the weekend about the limitations of the written word or its verbal counterparts. The kid I was talking to is a secondary ed English major who claims words are only as limited as the human mind. While a nice little phrase, I can make up any number of words describing my most intimate feelings, but there will be no way to define that word in a way that someone else will definitively understand.

Simply put, there are emotionally charged sounds humans are incapable of making, which is partially where music comes in, though that is also limited in its subjectivity. If I were smart enough, I could write a poem more beautifully in math than I could in the written word. If I spoke with all painful inflection and tone, that can be expressed as a series of sound waves. That style of reading doesn't come across when the words are simply black on white.

I Fucked It Up

My favorite song where your voice sounds best.
(I don't sing)

I've been inquiring how to apply for an intra-university transfer to the architecture program. It's a union of form and function, math, science, and art. My only problem is that I don't know what exactly an architect does once they get their masters....

Summertime
(when the livin's easy)

Steve G. and I saw the Social Network tonight. It was very well done, and the theater near Drexel's campus was the Digital Logic Projectors or whatever by Texas Instruments, so it was the sharpest thing I'd ever seen in theaters. We mosey'd about, stopping by Wawa. The Wawa smell hit me hard, because I'd missed it so much. Tonight was the first time since the first week I had legitimate homesickness. Steve talked about when he came home and visited his cats. I almost cried thinking about how I'll probably cry when I get into my bed and start thinking. "I don't live here anymore." I'll think about summer and impossibilities and about being a dumb teenage girl who can't even choose a major. I lost Steve's firefly running from the subway stop in the rain.

Frozen Hair Hot Tub
(M&M rainbow)

It's so weird when parents do stuff together. Neither of my parents came out to my things. My mom saw the movie "Drumline" and said, "I finally learned what you've been doing all these years!" I really wanted my dad to be at the band senior night, but when I called, he said he didn't want to go. Then they left out that I was a section leader on my bio sheet, but left in that my favorite thing about band were the freshmen, which was more important. I don't ever want to do that to Chloe spawn. I don't believe in always.

"It's okay to cry in front of your roommate"

I've never been mad enough to scream.
I've never been passionate enough to hold on tighter.
I've never loved enough to refuse to say goodbye.

and I'm sorry.

Crazy Weekend!

Friday Night:
After band, T. Pat and I caught dinner at J&H. We ran into Lutz and made a little drumline table, but that also meant conversation was almost exclusively drum related. This was also prompted by the fact that our instructor had just about given us a "pep talk," at the end of practice, but still, not my bag. When Lutz finished, T. Pat saw Tyler and called him over, so the conversation continued while he was eating. Everyone finished their meals, but we kept talking until around 8. T. Pat offered to give me a ride back to 1300. While I'd been in a car at Penn State, it felt like I hadn't been in one for much longer, and it was a special occasion. I don't know if he tried to scare me, because I said I was fearless, but if he always drives like that, I will never again accept his offer. After that, I got all gussied up to hang out with Kira and maybe catch a party. She'd watched the Phillies' game with Brenna, and they were a lil' drunk. Brenna's friend Bob was there, and we eventually all left to try and find her other friend from high school "H-Bomber" aka "Haley." I may've partaken in a little illicit drug usage, and so the entire evening felt like being an outside observer. It was lovely. I ate a bowl of Easy Mac, a single pizza roll, and a bag of popcorn. The Jew Frat was selling pancakes 2 for $1, so I treated Kira and myself. We wandered the streets just off campus, trying to find this girl, then looked for a party. I wasn't too interested in finding one, but I knew exactly how James Joyce felt to interpret Ulysses as the adventures of a drunken wanderer. Eventually stopping at 7-11, I got a chocolate cake-brownie and a bag of Lays, and marveled that the salty-sweet duality was the greatest invention of man. At one point, Kira held a Tasty-Cake and a half eaten chip in her hand, the symbol of excellence. I wound up spending the night at their place, and woke up just in time to welcome my mom to Temple.

Saturday:
Mom dropped off Jack and Jeremiah around noon and very promptly left. Even though I knew Jack didn't want to go to a museum, I'd been relying on Mom's badgering and money to get us to one anyway. With all of my potential plans destroyed, and the boys with ~$8 spending money between them, we went to the Wagner Free Institute of Science. It was closed. Our free activity alternative was for them to smoke a bit, and all three of us to take a nap. Good stuff. They smoked again before the a cappella concert (which was amazing!), and then we went to Wendy's where I got them food. Ethan escorted us to Mike's for the fancy band party. I was all fancy hoochie, forgetting how short my tuxedo dress is and wearing high heels. My fake pearls were ballin', though I didn't know how I felt about wearing them out to 18th St. The party was fantastic. Drum major Jeremiah was upset that I'd brought another, significantly underage, Jeremiah, but his fancy suit was possibly the most entertaining thing of the night, so I couldn't take him seriously. I was having a great time. It was kinda a sausage fest, and guys were talkin' to me left and right, but Jack and Jer were not feelin' the "band party thing," and they'd forgotten their bowls in the dorm. After much scrabbling for a piece, rolling papers, an apple, or a pen for a water bong, I guy volunteered to walk to his house next door in the service of my brother. However, during that time, my brother was brought to the attention of some other stoners who they began talking to, and were eventually invited to hang out with. Admittedly, one of them was trying to get with me, which I think might've been the reason for the invite, but hey, let's go to the hood and hang. I walked there in my high heels, over broken sidewalk and plywood, eventually taking off my heels despite the broken glass shimmering like starlight. Once we got there, there were a number of illegal activities taking place, with Jack and Jer eventually playing Mario Smash Brothers Brawl with the guys (one of whom was on '08 GV Grad?!), while I watched and listened to the admittedly interesting stories of this guy who managed to get closer to me every time he stood up and sat back down. I don't think he understands what kind of a cock-block a younger brother is, and I know he didn't know about my loyalties not to, but I couldn't hide that physically, I was totally good for it. Luckily, we all just sorta went to bed afterward, and when I woke up on a bean bag chair the next morning, I was a little unsure of where I was.

Sunday:
One of the guys who woke up early enough to see us off gave me a pair of socks to walk home in. It was exceptionally generous, and he acknowledged that it would only add to "the fake walk of shame." So I got J&H with Jack and Jer in my high heels and hoochie dress. I got the worst look from some bitch, and I was all, "That's right: 24/7 Sexy." We all elected for another nap, with me eventually getting them on the 5:23 to Claymont. Fortunately, I'm super duper smart and know how to use trains and shit, because I missed the first one because we were standing on the Outbound tracks instead of local, me unaware that you have to go through Center City first... They did get on the 6:23. I'm glad that my brother served as the guinea pig instead of me, because I have to catch a train home next Friday. Anyways, Kira invited me to J&H after that. She told me about her shitty Saturday night/Sunday morning another ridiculous story about the frequently occurring coincidence of people in her life knowing other people in her life. After that, we walked down to Shusterman Hall so I could add to my sketch of it, I could have an excuse to invite Chase over, and she could finally meet him. Unfortunately, after Josh Hopkins passed by, we got into a string of GV name dropping, otherwise, the conversation was good. Kira left to get ice cream and finish cleaning up before her roommates got back, so Chase and I headed back to my dorm to talk. It was relieving to find that neither of us wants a relationship at this point, and also good to finally acknowledge it. After Chase left, Tina and I shared our weekend updates and watched Jackass together.

"...forgot my monocle for the fancy party tonight. Alas."

My brother and his best friend, Jer, are asleep in my room right now.

Jack asked me why the SATs were so expensive. I don't rightly know.

We're going to Acapacolypse tonight at 7:30, then the fancy band party.

I started writing the Pit Video Game as a text only walk-through game. Right now, the reader is capable of viewing the "Choose Character Screen," exiting the menu, or reading the rules. Hopefully, it will be a bit of a choose your own adventure, though I bet I'll only ever write the first level about trying to find a bathroom before the Upper Darby competition starts. Matt's emoticon is: d-_-b Apparently, there is a "Java 3D" scripting language, which is designed for expressing complex graphics. Of course, I am but the littlest programmer; but if get into stuff on my own outside of class, we'll see if I can't come up with some pretty neat code.

Shay, Tina, and I discussed our slight anxieties about having ugly children.

Unfortunately, Jack forgot my monocle for the fancy party tonight. Alas.

"Making Out for Lost Time"

I've been meaning to write. Honestly.
I even have the last line of a short story written.

I write letters though. So many letters.

Tonight, there's a party with two DJs.
Tomorrow, my mom and brother are coming over.
-There is a fancy band party
Sunday, I will do homework.
Monday, Steve G. and I are catching a movie at Drexel.
Tuesday I'm going to a poetry performance.
I'm going to NYC Wednesday to visit Steve F.
Thursday, PostSecret and Jeff are coming.

Right now, I'm feeling the Sociology major. Only 42 credits. That way I can minor in everything.

Lapsus Clavis & Les Fleurs du Mal

Who cares if the flowers are evil? Put them on gorgeous display in a sunny window and love their adorable, ineffective maleficence.

Kira invited me over to J&H for Fourth Meal around eight tonight. Sure, I'd already eaten, still had homework, and wore sockless mocks in the chilly rain, but "if I have an invite, I'm not going to waste my time in a dorm." After trudging the three blocks to J&H, I had some mozzarella sticks, smiled for reminiscing, and talked to Kira for a good three hours. Despite my enjoyable activities, I'd been having a real poop couple of days. I'd kept my wits about me and didn't let it progress, recognizing the shitty weather and lingering emotions, but I still felt down. By some inexplicable process, eating junk food and laughing made me warm and fuzzy all over.

I <3 Cathexis, but it's scary sometimes for everything you might lose.

There is no Wikipedia article I could find about the act of "missing someone." I should think there would be a whole article or at least some fancy Latin terms to denote this integral human experience.

I think about driving away from MOJO13 listening to The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot. Think about sitting in a packed car with Viv and my whole world in the driveway. Think about packing my whole world in a car with a trunk 74 cubic Trishas big. Think about screaming "make me feel tiny if it makes you feel tall" and what large asses we were, I was. Think about quietly singing Bitches Ain't Shit in the business district of NYC, trying not to get shot. Think about trying not to cry on the ride back from NYC, the only person awake except for the person I desperately wanted to be, and the person I desperately wanted to be with. Think about falling asleep as the person I'd always wanted to be with the only person I wanted to be with. Think about who I am, who I've been, who I've loved, and who I've cried for. Thinking 'bout you.

In/Ex

now breathe

It must sound like hero worship, the way I talk about Jeff. I talk about him and my brother all the time. In my stories, Matt is "my engineering friend." Stasi is "my hippie organic friend." Katie is "my crazy best friend from middle school who liked anime and made me not shy." Sometimes, Abby is "my mello friend who did Surf." I don't reference other people in my stories much, unfortunately.

you're doing it wrong

It's a real infatuation, and it's a real drive to get fucked, but there's only one thing I want right now.

Inlove/Exlove

"Tapestries are nomadic murals"

What a wonderful weekend.

Friday night, I went to South Street with a girl from band for First Friday shopping. While the only thing either of us bought was an ice cream cone, it was still a super fun experience. We checked out both Mood and Condom Kingdom. Penis pasta is definitely on the list of things I want to cook as a meal. It was a windy night, and I suppose there was a feeling in the night, 'cuz we were making eye contact with guys like crazy. One of the guys I saw was in a convertible, and I made sure to laugh while eating my ice cream. After getting back in for the night, I went over to the Tyler building and read their educational exhibit on the Coptic Monasteries in Egypt. Upon returning back, I sat with some girls from my floor and our RA in the hall and talked about whatever. It was a good time.

Saturday morning, I got up early to water the garden and help build a compost receptacle. Only four people and a kitten showed up, but it was an intimate time and we all made hummus at the club leader's apartment afterward, even though I don't really like it. Around 5, I went to catch dinner at the SAC and head over to Presser to get on the buses. It was a good ride up to Pennridge High School for an exhibition. We got a little bit lost, got a little bit slap happy. Even though holding cymbals through all of the announcements wasn't too hot, I enjoyed remembering high school. The bus ride back was even better. After that, I hung out with Chase and had the geekiest night of my life. It was a bifecta (like a trifecta, but two) of geekiness. I learned how to play Magic: the Gathering and got the briefest history lesson in the lore of World of Warcraft, with some notes on its origins in Tolkien.

Sunday morning, M&M pancakes. Mine were exclusively blue and green, and I made wishes and was thankful on them respectively. Around 3, I met up with Gab, Kira's roommate and a friend from Spanish class to go to the Philadelphia Museum of Art for discounted First Sunday. We got there a little late for its closing at 5, but still a wonderful time exploring. I felt like a barbarian for how little I know. We got dinner at "Rex's: Rex's is the best." It was some little pizza place on our way back to the subway with jumbo pizza slices at least twice the size of a normal slice. I was unaware of that at the time of ordering, and so got two slices. I couldn't finish the second one, because we also had mozzarella sticks and french fries. In the evening, I finished up my homework.

heARTS and conSCIENCE

My major project for the last few days was to read through all of the courses listed under every single major Temple offers and make a list of the classes I want to take. It eventually came out to be 10 pages long, two columns, in 10 pt. font... There are so many things I want to minor in, but nothing appealing for a long-term immersion. While it looks like I'll be continuing with Calc II next semester, I don't believe I have "the math brain." Right now, the minors I'm most interested in are:

Biology (which I'll probably be declaring Monday morning at 8:30)
Art History
Sociology
Urban Studies
Information Systems & Technology

What the hell am I going to do with myself? Another, littler project was to more concretely define what I want in a future job. I only came up with 4 careers that would definitely offer a majority of my listed benefits.

Curator of a Museum of Natural Science (Franklin Institute! Sky bike!)
Professor, so I could take classes forever for free
Jeopardy! card writer (puns + trivia!)
Editor of a scientific journal or magazine (though magazines are dying)

I simply don't know. I simply don't.
Not to mention still considering law school as the "fuck it" option.

In Programming class, I put my computer to sleep to take a bathroom break. When I got back, I almost typed in my password.java. It was bad.

Collage

Dan G. has been writing short stories and poetry that collectively sum up existence of the suburbs. During math, I contemplated what I would write out to make a similar collection of my college experiences. The following is everything I wrote on the page.

thick bodied painted on dress
painted on face

unrequited love of math
deceiving myself
passive aggressive retaliation
for abandoning me every night
em{me

I am in fatuous infatuation

college is the first time I'm alive
so was my first kiss here my first kiss alive

subway
aeroway
arrowway

cornrows for Christmas

tan + blonde + fuck me heels

sexy changing new painful
he was changing in the bathroom

considering tattoos

high school to college
not call teacher
there's no obligation to teach

going to the play alone
michael jackson sing along

solo puedo escribir las lineas [broken]

sassy is the new black

Sweet Caroline (so hood! so hood! so hood!)

clothesline homesick

What I Desire vs. Logically Want

I'm a silly 18 year old girl who has nothing productive to show for her life.
I've only traveled to states that border the Atlantic.
I have no idea what I want for my life,
and yet I think I have my priorities in order.

Wait it out. Don't hope.

I Never Owned a Black Barbie

I've been doing mostly factual writing as of late. Organizational writing for memory's sake, but nothing especially creative in style or content. I like to think my unique phraseology adds some merit to the blasé recollections, but there are no new thoughts eventually collected in this electronic journal. It's been a very long time since I've had any tragedy worthy of inspiration. My last flurry of intensely productive thought was probably after Dave.

Coming back from an information session on Study Abroad, I ran into Sarah S. at the beach. We talked for a while on varying topics, at one point talking about the Charleston Market's ability to combat homesickness. Firstly, I barely remember any meal at my dad's that was not steak/baked chicken + mashed potatoes + corn/broccoli. Secondly, I haven't been homesick at all. Of course, I miss individuals and recognize that my mom would like to see me, but I have no desire to be home. :\

[Today, in thinking about my tablet, I realized I do not remember the day that I broke up with Jimmy, but I remember the day of our last kiss and where it was. I also remember the dates and locations of my last kisses with Dave and Jeff. Also, Fava, but that is not by any merit of his doing, and I geographically have no idea where that apartment is.

Retrospectively, today was not my day. I verbally expressed frustration at the cymbal girl I don't like, and unfortunately may've recognized the end to my infatuation after spending time with him and his roommate at the beach. Perhaps if I wasn't PMSing, things would have a better outlook. I'm on edge and cranky. My roommate told me that she was going to bed, so I'd have to listen to my music in headphones. Not a problem. However, "going to bed" to read for an hour does not get the same consideration. ]