Ouchies.
I miss doing this so much, but I never do it. Why? Because I always feel like putting it off a little more. Nothing ever feels like enough. Everything I have to say seems so...unimportant. So useless. Simple drivel. Pointless, unimportant drivel.
"I walk this empty street,
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams,
When the city sleeps, and I'm the only one, and I walk alone.
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me,
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating,
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me,
Till then, I walk alone..."
-from "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day
I last posted on December 2nd. Since then so much has happened. I know if I cut, no one will read it. I'll make it as short as I can.
I took exams, which were all I expected. Nothing new happened, nothing to change my grade in any class much at all. A 3.4 GPA for first semester Davidson is pretty good.
I signed with Fiji, which apparently made Joe have an orgasm. (I'm pledge number ten.) I'm not really taking it seriously. It's going to be fun, but it's not going to occupy my social life. I hope it won't, anyway. I have so many friends...more about them later. Sure, I like it, and I want it to be a part of my life, but not all of it. And I know that's what will happen. (Because I'll make it happen.)
I did end up going to the New York Party. But it turned out a little differently than expected. I flew to Philadelphia and spent a night at Rebecca's house. I met her family. Interesting people. Nice. Slightly insane, but nice. Rebecca's - or should I say, Becky's - secret life before Davidson became a little more clear. I'll let her tell me whenever she wants to. There's no real reason I need to know who she was. She's who she is now; isn't that what really matters? Jordan would be more interested than I anyway.
And we took a train to New York, meeting Don in Newark. We had some fun conversations about Don too. Interesting kid, true. But like everyone I miss him.
We wandered around. It was wonderful. Nothing we needed to do. We saw an off-Broadway show, I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. Walked through Central Park at sunset, then down Fifth Avenue after dark, up to Jordan's uncle's nightclub at 50th and Lex. Out to Manhasset (which, oddly, was mentioned in the original '30s version of Miracle on 34th Street, which I watched tonight as part of a family tradition). Then back home. On the plane, I met a very nice guy from the Philadelphia area who now lives just outside Raleigh. He visited a college friend in Philly. College friends. You don't hear much about high school friends. Really.
I came back and hung out with the old high school crowd. It was fun, but it wasn't the same. My friends at Davidson are so much more. I miss them. So much more than I ever though I could. When was the last time I missed people like this? It was her. I talked on the phone with Don for a half-hour for no reason. He called me on my birthday. Interesting kid, true.
Why. Why is nothing ever the same after everything changes. Everything was different. Nothing can be the same. Never again. No matter how much we try.
"I walk a lonely road,
The only one I that have ever known,
Don't know where it goes,
But it's home and I walk alone."
-from "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day
But it's all such drivel. Why do I write it?
Because it helps. Because I want people to know. Because I want people to talk to me, to comment. Comments. Such a horrible word. Like they're commenting on my life. What? It's my life; why should I ask for comments? Because...that's what friends do. Comment. Like Don said at three in the morning in the First Rich lounge, "What should I do, Mike? Help me." And I didn't know. But I helped anyway. That's what friends do. Comment on their friends' lives...and that's what LiveJournal's for.
"I walk this empty street,
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams,
When the city sleeps, and I'm the only one, and I walk alone.
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me,
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating,
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me,
Till then, I walk alone..."
-from "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day
I last posted on December 2nd. Since then so much has happened. I know if I cut, no one will read it. I'll make it as short as I can.
I took exams, which were all I expected. Nothing new happened, nothing to change my grade in any class much at all. A 3.4 GPA for first semester Davidson is pretty good.
I signed with Fiji, which apparently made Joe have an orgasm. (I'm pledge number ten.) I'm not really taking it seriously. It's going to be fun, but it's not going to occupy my social life. I hope it won't, anyway. I have so many friends...more about them later. Sure, I like it, and I want it to be a part of my life, but not all of it. And I know that's what will happen. (Because I'll make it happen.)
I did end up going to the New York Party. But it turned out a little differently than expected. I flew to Philadelphia and spent a night at Rebecca's house. I met her family. Interesting people. Nice. Slightly insane, but nice. Rebecca's - or should I say, Becky's - secret life before Davidson became a little more clear. I'll let her tell me whenever she wants to. There's no real reason I need to know who she was. She's who she is now; isn't that what really matters? Jordan would be more interested than I anyway.
And we took a train to New York, meeting Don in Newark. We had some fun conversations about Don too. Interesting kid, true. But like everyone I miss him.
We wandered around. It was wonderful. Nothing we needed to do. We saw an off-Broadway show, I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. Walked through Central Park at sunset, then down Fifth Avenue after dark, up to Jordan's uncle's nightclub at 50th and Lex. Out to Manhasset (which, oddly, was mentioned in the original '30s version of Miracle on 34th Street, which I watched tonight as part of a family tradition). Then back home. On the plane, I met a very nice guy from the Philadelphia area who now lives just outside Raleigh. He visited a college friend in Philly. College friends. You don't hear much about high school friends. Really.
I came back and hung out with the old high school crowd. It was fun, but it wasn't the same. My friends at Davidson are so much more. I miss them. So much more than I ever though I could. When was the last time I missed people like this? It was her. I talked on the phone with Don for a half-hour for no reason. He called me on my birthday. Interesting kid, true.
Why. Why is nothing ever the same after everything changes. Everything was different. Nothing can be the same. Never again. No matter how much we try.
"I walk a lonely road,
The only one I that have ever known,
Don't know where it goes,
But it's home and I walk alone."
-from "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day
But it's all such drivel. Why do I write it?
Because it helps. Because I want people to know. Because I want people to talk to me, to comment. Comments. Such a horrible word. Like they're commenting on my life. What? It's my life; why should I ask for comments? Because...that's what friends do. Comment. Like Don said at three in the morning in the First Rich lounge, "What should I do, Mike? Help me." And I didn't know. But I helped anyway. That's what friends do. Comment on their friends' lives...and that's what LiveJournal's for.