Random:
- I really miss snow.
- Writing on the parallels between Soviet media and modern censorship trends in Russia gives me a geekgasm.
- Although I miss Wes, I think I'll miss reading through sunsets in my climbing tree more.
- The past few days have been spent reevaluating the past few semesters in a rush, almost to make up a quota for this hazy month of mine. I'm glad, for my self-esteem, that I walked out on that Weskink party when I did. Learning that awkward silences, pauses to figure things out, is better than nervous babbling was a good thing to have figured out, to be figuring out. Luminescence and interconnectedness, kindred souls and human kindness, exist. My series of confused freshman hook-ups, instead of clarifying things, only muddied them further. I'm glad that I was constructive about them instead of falling apart, that what I have done with them is mature and right for me. He's connected to that past, and I'm more afraid of being hurt than I will often admit; should I really sleep with the fella? I don't love him, but I could, and that terrifies me. I am much better with other people's vulnerability than I am with my own, although I'm working on it. It feels like there's no one I can turn to for advice who isn't involved, who doesn't have preconceived notions of who I am that, instead of helping me out via personal knowledge, would only frustrate me. I can't even talk to my best confidant friend about it because she's kind of his ex.
- Jenny Ryan's research is fascinating, in a really morbid sort of way. I'm still in shock, and inclined to babble at her, and so am waiting until my thoughts are somewhat clearer. The idea of internet shrines is modernity to me, in the thrust of publicity and voyeurism into what is essentially unknowable, the experience of accessing someone's public profile and, amidst expressions of aching pain and condolences, candor and memory, realizing that the actual profile is unchanged -- without the commentary, the "shrine"-like nature of it all, the person's death is almost immaterial, a stasis of time prevalent. I don't know how I feel about it or how to fully intellectualize it, just that I am compelled.
- Dad's hearing is tomorrow.
- Friendships are strange things. Everyone wants to take me clubbing before I leave, and here I am, sitting in the library with bushy hair and my backpack from junior high. I'm perfectly happy as I am, and people need to find ways to deal with that.
- I have an entire album of Japanese Super Robot TV Themes. Most of the singing is done by very small and patriotic-sounding children.
- Theory: baby steps and clarity are essential to my jumping back on my writing wagon.
- Correlation: as the insecurity of others rises, my amount of authoritativeness and certainty increases.
- Obama or Clinton? I'm still researching, on the fence, trying to wed gut feelings with concrete policy proposals. Barack, I need more from you to be certain.
- I'm looking forward to watching American Idol with Mom over dinner and organizing my research, in pajamas, once she's asleep. This has to get done.
- Writing on the parallels between Soviet media and modern censorship trends in Russia gives me a geekgasm.
- Although I miss Wes, I think I'll miss reading through sunsets in my climbing tree more.
- The past few days have been spent reevaluating the past few semesters in a rush, almost to make up a quota for this hazy month of mine. I'm glad, for my self-esteem, that I walked out on that Weskink party when I did. Learning that awkward silences, pauses to figure things out, is better than nervous babbling was a good thing to have figured out, to be figuring out. Luminescence and interconnectedness, kindred souls and human kindness, exist. My series of confused freshman hook-ups, instead of clarifying things, only muddied them further. I'm glad that I was constructive about them instead of falling apart, that what I have done with them is mature and right for me. He's connected to that past, and I'm more afraid of being hurt than I will often admit; should I really sleep with the fella? I don't love him, but I could, and that terrifies me. I am much better with other people's vulnerability than I am with my own, although I'm working on it. It feels like there's no one I can turn to for advice who isn't involved, who doesn't have preconceived notions of who I am that, instead of helping me out via personal knowledge, would only frustrate me. I can't even talk to my best confidant friend about it because she's kind of his ex.
- Jenny Ryan's research is fascinating, in a really morbid sort of way. I'm still in shock, and inclined to babble at her, and so am waiting until my thoughts are somewhat clearer. The idea of internet shrines is modernity to me, in the thrust of publicity and voyeurism into what is essentially unknowable, the experience of accessing someone's public profile and, amidst expressions of aching pain and condolences, candor and memory, realizing that the actual profile is unchanged -- without the commentary, the "shrine"-like nature of it all, the person's death is almost immaterial, a stasis of time prevalent. I don't know how I feel about it or how to fully intellectualize it, just that I am compelled.
- Dad's hearing is tomorrow.
- Friendships are strange things. Everyone wants to take me clubbing before I leave, and here I am, sitting in the library with bushy hair and my backpack from junior high. I'm perfectly happy as I am, and people need to find ways to deal with that.
- I have an entire album of Japanese Super Robot TV Themes. Most of the singing is done by very small and patriotic-sounding children.
- Theory: baby steps and clarity are essential to my jumping back on my writing wagon.
- Correlation: as the insecurity of others rises, my amount of authoritativeness and certainty increases.
- Obama or Clinton? I'm still researching, on the fence, trying to wed gut feelings with concrete policy proposals. Barack, I need more from you to be certain.
- I'm looking forward to watching American Idol with Mom over dinner and organizing my research, in pajamas, once she's asleep. This has to get done.