Like the stars still scar my ceiling.
Ok. Here's the deal. I have been losing track of time entirely. In bad bad ways. It's kinda complicated, but the bottom line is that I want to attempt an experiment. I wish to write an entry every day for all of my spring quarter at school. My hypothesis is that it will really help me see things clearer by the end of this, the way that the things i went through in high school makes a lot more sense now when I go back and read those entries. Plus, I think a lot of interesting, humourous, and generally insane times are about to happen. It'll be good to have a laugh someday.
That said.
I woke up devastated this morning. I just spent a week of spring break in pain, alone in my apartment, doing virtually nothing. I mean, i read a few books, baked some things, befriended some neighbors... But by no means was it going on some glamourous vacation, or seeing family and friends, or having some crazy adventure. For someone who's used to speeding back and forth between Long Beach and San Jo for spring break, I felt like an absolute liar. On top of that, a lot of people are pretty against me for not going to nor-cal this week. If I have friends against me, my confidence falls through the floor in a complete downward spiral motion. That added to the fact that I was just flat out bored after trying to entertain myself for 10 days, I was a wreck. I was cry-ey and weepy and just at a loss for having faith in myself.
After a conversation with my dad, I had a slight revelation. For a few weeks now, I've been wanting to go get my mustang (which is now in Long Beach) and bring it back to SB. Driving my mustang makes me more relaxed and more sure about life than pretty much anything. Now that I had figured out how to fly up to San Jo to see Kim's show instead of drive, I could go get the mustang whenever I wanted.
So, I got all worked up and ready. I packed my 35mm camera so I could go to the beach and take pictures. I packed my audio converted and splurged on new music for the ipod. I even remembered to bring this bag of extra art-project sand that I stole from Sunset beach so I could return it to its home. The whole bit. I got in the car, put on this amazing mix cd that Nick made me, and just started going. Gorgeous drive, good music. Nothing (sans making out, I'm not fooling anybody) cheers me up more.
Until I got about and hour and a half south and realized one vital item: I didn't bring the house keys or the mustang keys. Tough luck, kid. Touch luck.
Turned around, drove all the way back, depressed. By the time I got back to SB, I *could* have grabbed the keys and tried for a second time, but as quoted from a phone conversation with Ryan:
Ryan: No! Jessie! Don't let this defeat you! Go back to Long Beach! Conquer!
Me: Yeah, I know, but it's getting dark. And I mean, young girl, hot mustang, Highway 405 at night?? I feel like I might just get shot on principle.
Ryan: Oh, yeah! That's true. Yeah, you probably shouldn't go.
Haha, soo inspiring, as he always is. But, the question arises: Why was I talking to Ryan?... Well, ok, it's not really all that uncommon. But, as it happened to be, he was driving down from his spring break in Washington, and was about to pass my sleepy little town on 101. They were running late on their driving time, and still had a long way to go, but they did need to stop for gas. So it was agreed: The Chevron on Hollister. It was a date.
So I saw Ryan for about 15 mins at a gas station. He told me that I was talking too fast and I was too shaky. It might have been the coffee, but I think I was also just really stoked to see him.
Got back home, saw Emily off to see her lover, welcomed my other two roomates back from canada... Even though I was still down, it was looking like it would be a good night to just lay back, do a few crosswords, and go to bed... Seeing as tomorrow's the first day of class and all....
And then, of course, the neighbors started yelling my name from across the street. They were in their kitchen, and I could still hear everything they were saying. I knew I didn't have a chance at staying home.
Soo I went there for a while. I've only known them for a few days, but I could tell that it was their good old same old same old. Even right now, as I type, I can still hear them over there, it's great :) After a while though, I was just kinda over it, so I said I was going to a friend's house. I was completely lying, but I didn't want them shouting my name all night thinking I was home, haha.
But, speak of the devil, as soon as I walked out their door, Patrick calls. He's at Freebirds. I look up to my apt window and see that my roomates are just watching friends, sooo... Freebirds it was. Good Patrick times as usual. Making fun of the super drunken Freebird's kids. Watching Pat steal soda. Classic Pat/Jess convos:
Me: Nah, Nick's gonna be up in his hometown for a bit still. He's visiting his family. I'm bettin' he'll be up there another week.
Pat: Wasn't the funeral a while ago? Doesn't he EVER get over the loss of a family member??
Me: Well, he has more family than just that. They didn't ALL die, you know?
Pat: Psh, whatever... ok, I guess.
And, of course, as soon as I was startin to think about leaving, the phone rings again. It's Jess, and she wants to know if I want to go to Max's. I was just there last night, but, knowing me, I knew I'd end up there in the end. Off I went.
Same as the other locales, it's was the same old, but still so sweet scenarios. As soon as I walk in the door, one of the Alex's starts shouting at me that if I didn't list the 7 deadly sins in the next 45 seconds, I would be kicked out.
Trust me, I knew them quite well.
Good times with good people. Talks of Bon Jovi, SB bros, Bro Jovi, and extensive Olympic commentary on our friends who started making out in the living room, such as:
"I don't know Tom, I haven't seen that move since the French did it in '94. I didn't like it then and, Tom, I don't like it now."
..or:
"It's so thrilling to see a rookie and a mastermind together at work, Tom. I mean, you see that ass grab right there? That's not just hard practice Tom, that's creativity."
Yep. That, however hard to swallow, is how those kids roll.
Finally, on an askew burrito excursion, I made my break and made it back to the apartment. I have Beirut on the stero, and the world's most adorable bunny is hopping around on my floor, happy to be back at home. Quite the unexpected Sunday night to start the quarter with.. But I must say, it's done me well.
That said.
I woke up devastated this morning. I just spent a week of spring break in pain, alone in my apartment, doing virtually nothing. I mean, i read a few books, baked some things, befriended some neighbors... But by no means was it going on some glamourous vacation, or seeing family and friends, or having some crazy adventure. For someone who's used to speeding back and forth between Long Beach and San Jo for spring break, I felt like an absolute liar. On top of that, a lot of people are pretty against me for not going to nor-cal this week. If I have friends against me, my confidence falls through the floor in a complete downward spiral motion. That added to the fact that I was just flat out bored after trying to entertain myself for 10 days, I was a wreck. I was cry-ey and weepy and just at a loss for having faith in myself.
After a conversation with my dad, I had a slight revelation. For a few weeks now, I've been wanting to go get my mustang (which is now in Long Beach) and bring it back to SB. Driving my mustang makes me more relaxed and more sure about life than pretty much anything. Now that I had figured out how to fly up to San Jo to see Kim's show instead of drive, I could go get the mustang whenever I wanted.
So, I got all worked up and ready. I packed my 35mm camera so I could go to the beach and take pictures. I packed my audio converted and splurged on new music for the ipod. I even remembered to bring this bag of extra art-project sand that I stole from Sunset beach so I could return it to its home. The whole bit. I got in the car, put on this amazing mix cd that Nick made me, and just started going. Gorgeous drive, good music. Nothing (sans making out, I'm not fooling anybody) cheers me up more.
Until I got about and hour and a half south and realized one vital item: I didn't bring the house keys or the mustang keys. Tough luck, kid. Touch luck.
Turned around, drove all the way back, depressed. By the time I got back to SB, I *could* have grabbed the keys and tried for a second time, but as quoted from a phone conversation with Ryan:
Ryan: No! Jessie! Don't let this defeat you! Go back to Long Beach! Conquer!
Me: Yeah, I know, but it's getting dark. And I mean, young girl, hot mustang, Highway 405 at night?? I feel like I might just get shot on principle.
Ryan: Oh, yeah! That's true. Yeah, you probably shouldn't go.
Haha, soo inspiring, as he always is. But, the question arises: Why was I talking to Ryan?... Well, ok, it's not really all that uncommon. But, as it happened to be, he was driving down from his spring break in Washington, and was about to pass my sleepy little town on 101. They were running late on their driving time, and still had a long way to go, but they did need to stop for gas. So it was agreed: The Chevron on Hollister. It was a date.
So I saw Ryan for about 15 mins at a gas station. He told me that I was talking too fast and I was too shaky. It might have been the coffee, but I think I was also just really stoked to see him.
Got back home, saw Emily off to see her lover, welcomed my other two roomates back from canada... Even though I was still down, it was looking like it would be a good night to just lay back, do a few crosswords, and go to bed... Seeing as tomorrow's the first day of class and all....
And then, of course, the neighbors started yelling my name from across the street. They were in their kitchen, and I could still hear everything they were saying. I knew I didn't have a chance at staying home.
Soo I went there for a while. I've only known them for a few days, but I could tell that it was their good old same old same old. Even right now, as I type, I can still hear them over there, it's great :) After a while though, I was just kinda over it, so I said I was going to a friend's house. I was completely lying, but I didn't want them shouting my name all night thinking I was home, haha.
But, speak of the devil, as soon as I walked out their door, Patrick calls. He's at Freebirds. I look up to my apt window and see that my roomates are just watching friends, sooo... Freebirds it was. Good Patrick times as usual. Making fun of the super drunken Freebird's kids. Watching Pat steal soda. Classic Pat/Jess convos:
Me: Nah, Nick's gonna be up in his hometown for a bit still. He's visiting his family. I'm bettin' he'll be up there another week.
Pat: Wasn't the funeral a while ago? Doesn't he EVER get over the loss of a family member??
Me: Well, he has more family than just that. They didn't ALL die, you know?
Pat: Psh, whatever... ok, I guess.
And, of course, as soon as I was startin to think about leaving, the phone rings again. It's Jess, and she wants to know if I want to go to Max's. I was just there last night, but, knowing me, I knew I'd end up there in the end. Off I went.
Same as the other locales, it's was the same old, but still so sweet scenarios. As soon as I walk in the door, one of the Alex's starts shouting at me that if I didn't list the 7 deadly sins in the next 45 seconds, I would be kicked out.
Trust me, I knew them quite well.
Good times with good people. Talks of Bon Jovi, SB bros, Bro Jovi, and extensive Olympic commentary on our friends who started making out in the living room, such as:
"I don't know Tom, I haven't seen that move since the French did it in '94. I didn't like it then and, Tom, I don't like it now."
..or:
"It's so thrilling to see a rookie and a mastermind together at work, Tom. I mean, you see that ass grab right there? That's not just hard practice Tom, that's creativity."
Yep. That, however hard to swallow, is how those kids roll.
Finally, on an askew burrito excursion, I made my break and made it back to the apartment. I have Beirut on the stero, and the world's most adorable bunny is hopping around on my floor, happy to be back at home. Quite the unexpected Sunday night to start the quarter with.. But I must say, it's done me well.