S.O.S.
Unless you happen to be on a sinking ship, it stands for Same Old Shit.
I bought a bike last night. It's a nice, fast one that'll take me some time to get used to. I still haven't found the right place for the seat. It's got short handlebars that make it handle very sharply. So this is my steed. The Black Beauty is home with Dad, and I'm riding a bike. Well, it's something. And I'll have my car out here soon enough.
Finally got in touch with the guy running the rental place Cora and I were looking at. Things are looking good. Our financial situation is also looking up, despite my incredible slowness at getting a job.
I spoke with Dad about going up to Whistler with the ski club in December. I know he wants to, but he was more surprised than I was when I told him the airfare between Columbus and Vancouver that time of year. He has to think about it. Ski trips aside from Holiday Valley tend to make him nervous, but when it's his only shot at skiing with me, I've got him by the balls. I think he'll want to go. I also got myself a ticket home for Thanksgiving.
Finally got my mailbox open, and got a shitload of important papers, both from campus and home, that I should have opened weeks ago. Well at least I know how to open it now. I also got some cash.
So I was really exhausted after a tough week of intense procrastination, but I didn't go to bed right away. Now I'm coming down with something, and I'm wide awake. Gives me ample time to paace back and forth and think about things.
Sex is sex. In and of itself, it's emotionally safe. Love is sex, only on a minefield. Sure, it's a bigger rush, and there's a lot more going for it. But one wrong step and BOOM! You never see it coming. It doesn't take much to fuck things up when things are already wired as hell. I know I have a tendency to make bad moves. Always have. But I think I make it pretty obvious that I love her, and that my intention is only to make her happy, whether I hit or miss. And boy, do I miss sometimes. It's nice that I can patch things up with a quote from Moulin Rouge or Marvin Gaye. But it would be nicer one of these days if I could just scream, "I LOVE YOU! YOU LOVE ME! WHAT'S THE FUCKING PROBLEM?"
Yeah, I know. I'm young, idealistic, and I don't know anything. It's not as simple as I've thought it through; never will be. We're humans, not animals. All animals can do is love, be loved, and communicate only the most basic of concepts to one another. Above that, they're happy just being in company. I noticed that after I pissed off Cora, and her dog pissed on her clothes in the same day. I was in the doghouse long after her dog was back to being petted and licking her face. I'm studding to be a successful engineer so I can buy her nice things, meaning I can't physically be close to her for over 6 more weeks. But I'm thinking ahead, spouting off my inane sonnets over the Instant Messenger, and sweeping her off her feet with elaborate pictures of life together. I'm much more evolved than that stupid dog.
Aren't I?
I bought a bike last night. It's a nice, fast one that'll take me some time to get used to. I still haven't found the right place for the seat. It's got short handlebars that make it handle very sharply. So this is my steed. The Black Beauty is home with Dad, and I'm riding a bike. Well, it's something. And I'll have my car out here soon enough.
Finally got in touch with the guy running the rental place Cora and I were looking at. Things are looking good. Our financial situation is also looking up, despite my incredible slowness at getting a job.
I spoke with Dad about going up to Whistler with the ski club in December. I know he wants to, but he was more surprised than I was when I told him the airfare between Columbus and Vancouver that time of year. He has to think about it. Ski trips aside from Holiday Valley tend to make him nervous, but when it's his only shot at skiing with me, I've got him by the balls. I think he'll want to go. I also got myself a ticket home for Thanksgiving.
Finally got my mailbox open, and got a shitload of important papers, both from campus and home, that I should have opened weeks ago. Well at least I know how to open it now. I also got some cash.
So I was really exhausted after a tough week of intense procrastination, but I didn't go to bed right away. Now I'm coming down with something, and I'm wide awake. Gives me ample time to paace back and forth and think about things.
Sex is sex. In and of itself, it's emotionally safe. Love is sex, only on a minefield. Sure, it's a bigger rush, and there's a lot more going for it. But one wrong step and BOOM! You never see it coming. It doesn't take much to fuck things up when things are already wired as hell. I know I have a tendency to make bad moves. Always have. But I think I make it pretty obvious that I love her, and that my intention is only to make her happy, whether I hit or miss. And boy, do I miss sometimes. It's nice that I can patch things up with a quote from Moulin Rouge or Marvin Gaye. But it would be nicer one of these days if I could just scream, "I LOVE YOU! YOU LOVE ME! WHAT'S THE FUCKING PROBLEM?"
Yeah, I know. I'm young, idealistic, and I don't know anything. It's not as simple as I've thought it through; never will be. We're humans, not animals. All animals can do is love, be loved, and communicate only the most basic of concepts to one another. Above that, they're happy just being in company. I noticed that after I pissed off Cora, and her dog pissed on her clothes in the same day. I was in the doghouse long after her dog was back to being petted and licking her face. I'm studding to be a successful engineer so I can buy her nice things, meaning I can't physically be close to her for over 6 more weeks. But I'm thinking ahead, spouting off my inane sonnets over the Instant Messenger, and sweeping her off her feet with elaborate pictures of life together. I'm much more evolved than that stupid dog.
Aren't I?