I'm

always free, really.
So, just reel me a line.
Anytime, anytime.

Yes'm.

Let's chill.

To a very lovely, lonely cripple:

I hope you are feeling better, dear.
Maybe you are eating good food,
and cuddling with Emily.
Maybe you are reading inspirational novels,
or watching some sappy Julia Roberts film.
Maybe you are wheeling yourself around,
prepared to impress Herron High with your speed.
Or, maybe, you are bored.
I am.
I kind of like it, though. I'm not used to it.
I am not done with my homework, and I am being forced to look at scholarships,
since my college meeting is tomorrow.
BUT
I'm taking it slow.
Chill.
I'm cool as a cucumber,
which my father is in the process of putting into a salad.
GROSS.
This whole college stuff is stressing me out.
Rachel, with whom I am speaking, is not helping, the poor dear.
Boredom over.
Abort, abort.
Stress has taken over!!!!!!!!
I know this is short,
but I think I'll start doing short,
more frequent,
frequent,
frequent blog posts.
I think it could be soothing.
So,
goodbye.

I'm a baby,

in a womb, still. Not still, physically, still as in continuous. Still as in, the same, for awhile.
Don't you like when you flee? When you can forget everything for just a little while, and be happy? But then, the feeling afterwards, that's what ruins it all.
"Atleast I haven't destroyed anything."
If we could all find a way to get around that feeling, of regret, or again, humility, I wonder what the world would be like.
Some people say we need regret, to tell us we did something wrong, but all this time, no matter what, I've wondered why it has to be wrong in the first place.
I'm just thinking.
I've got my bathing suit on for now apparent reason, other than that I should do laundry, but I do have other clothes. I don't really know why.
'Haunted' made me think a lot, in a good way. It made me feel better, not so cynical. Not that the book wasn't cynical, no, it was. But, I realized I don't exactly think it's all like that.
What would happen if we knew what was after?

Adventures in Oxford, Mississippi
I still have to sing that song, to remember, how to spell it.
I saw Transformers last night, and it was good. I've made friends with all guys, which is kind of weird, but eh, it's a good time. Antonio, Marcus, and Rayford.
Yep.
Also, yesterday, was bowling. Which was fun, and I met some new people.
I have a lot of homework.
I'm learning.




Won't you tell me a story?

"You are so sweet, so sweet,

Dancing and moving to that beat, that beat."
I'm listening to the new Regina Spektor album for the zillionth time,
hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'll understand just WHAT THE HELL she is TALKING ABOUT.
But I don't.
And, you know, I still like the album.
And I just keep listening. And maybe
not so that I'll understand.
Maybe, just because I like it.
I've decided to become the next Regina Spektor.
I've devised a master plan to move to Russia
and then the Bronx.
And then...shazam...I'm Reginka.
That's how she signed her name on her "Thank You"s.
Simply, 'cuz she's da bomb.
Maybe, I'll be Audbrey.
Naw. I can't pull something like that off.
We've got two big dogs here,
which, I always wanted another dog,
but this dog we're watching...
is kind of gross.
I love her. She's cute.
Not precious, but cute. And very sweet.
But she has that permanent dog smell.
That one that, once you pet her, you can't rid from your hands.
And I've scrubbed.
Because you just can't avoid petting her.
She rubs her ninety-pound body all up and down your leg.
Sexual healing.
Katie yelled at Rachel for saying "sexual" all the time.
Not "sex." Not "sexy." Just "sexual."
I got a kick out of that.
So, now, we all use "sexual" all the time.
Even when it isn't quite appropriate.
I think my Dad's in on it, too.
But back to that dog.
She slobbers.
And she just came in here for a bit o' lovin'.
And, trying to avoid her, I turned my body,
hoping that maybe a 180 could save me.
But instead of leaving,
she slobbered on my leg.
This, my dear, was about twenty minutes ago.
But, I still have droplets of stickly saliva on my kneecap,
frozen in midair.
Aching to further penetrate the former cleanliness of my calf,
but they can't.
And I'm so freakishly lazy
that I can't get up to wash them off.
And now I'm about to puke,
not from the grossiosity of that hairy mammal (not you, Abby)
but of me.
I've morphed it,
in my head,
into my own error.
Golly.
Regina does a lot of the same stuff on this album,
and the more I listen to it,
the less I respect her creativity.
She wails a lot.
Which is cool, you know, for a couple of songs.
But then it gets old.
Should I stop listening? To preserve Reginka's integrity?
At least, in my head?
I attempted to write down my top colleges.
No luck.
I quit.
I'm going to become a baker.
Aha, "Do you see this body?"
I think I'm going to ride my bike now,
instead of run.
Becuase, I've decided.
There's no escaping it.
I hate running.
I really do.
And whenever I have to, I get this feeling in my stomach.
Like, loser, get enough guts to do something you like.
But I just tie those massive, ugly shoes to my equally massive, dirty feet.
You should come back.
Because I'm bored!
And so tired.
I need my cuddle-wuddle bear!
Just kidding.
Except not really...
so see you soon!
I'm going to go read.
It'll start out with Gone With the Wind,
but I'll be torn.
And whenever I'm torn,
I always end up with Harry Potter.
I'll grow up one day.
But just not yet.
You'll see everyone soon, Abigail.
Not too much longer.
And know
that my adventures
are not quite so complete
without you here.

"I need love,

in the middle of the day when the world just keeps stopping and your heart just keeps slippin' away..."
Oh, love, love, love.
I miss it.
'Cause this is the opposite of love. Not hate. I don't believe in hate. Don't believe I have ever felt it. Don't believe, but I don't know. What is truth? We just talked about that in class today.
Philosophy and English 102.
English 102, we're talkin' all about war. "We need war, to know we have finished something." Like, like that's what I just read, 'cause I'm reading a lot, with all this time, all this time on my own.
Repeating myself a lot, to pass the time.
I miss you all. Everyone is on adventures.
The adventures to come.
That's what is getting me through this.
This month.
How many more days? Twenty-eight, I think.
But, though I cannot wait to go home, I'm not counting down. That would just make it harder.
Reading The Sociology of Trench Warfare, this packet I had to print off, off my class name, @olemiss.edu, like we are legitimate. It's so legitimate.
Buying from the book store, wandering between classes.
I didn't scream when the praying mantis climbed my leg the first day, when the spider of huge ant crawled across me as I was sleeping. I thought that showed progress of some sort, or humility, which could always be the key.
I miss you.
But, that happens even when you're around.
I made a peanut butter and jelly, I didn't have a knife, so I made one out of my soul. That is, if my soul were a chip clip. I thought it was creative problem solving. Some sort of PR shit, keeping my door open, letting them all know I'm totally open for any sort of conversation and haven't laughed in two, three days. Oh, how I need that. It constipates me, not laughing. I wonder if there is any sort of scientific truth to that statement.
I need to do something. The book store closes in twenty minutes, as does the cafe, so that's out. I don't really see a point in going outside. I guess I can just wait it out until dinner in like an hour and a half. Walk around, a little before hand, leave in an hour to show someone how FRIENDLY and FUNNY I can be! I've never felt so judged in my life.
Give me a break.
But, I think, it's just the beginning, right? There's the weekend ahead, to bond, or something like it.
I can fake it if I have to.
Somehow, in spite of it all, my elbows have become very smooth.
I'll see you all soon, or eventually.

"Darling, I'm drunk,

and everything I've loved has turned to stone...Don't look at me that way."
I'm lethargic, busy and unacting. This is going to be another one of those. No backspace key, not attacted, distatched dispatch, I'm calling and you aren't answering and where does my head go when I'm alone?
I'm hoping things will get better.
I'm hopeful, I am, but I've always been so cynical, baby, it's hard for me.
All this addressing pronouns, so mysterious! I'm what dreams are made of.
I caught a Pokemon today that I really needed to get my next gym badge.
I apologized to someone I needed to apologize to, for a long time coming.
I, I, I.
Self-centered, narcissistic, I claim the opposite but I have to try to get a sentence without I.
Think it's because it's all I know, the only thing I can relate to? I used to get so excited at the prospect of an alternate universe twin, someone like me? I was just hoping they would have some answers.
Gets so heavy, gets so low.
I'm not depressed, I promise. I just think a lot.
Depressed makes me think of someone getting stomped by a giant shoe.
Let's pause.
"Someone has dressed us all like clowns."
I forgot how good this album is, I did.
I watched some episodes of Avatar last night. They were good.
I've been thinking about my future lately, but I've forgotten it all.
Don't know what to say for myself.
There are so many things I want to do.

Things I Would Like To Master
1. Guitar Hero - I think that is actually a cool skill to master.
2. Chemistry - I'm pretty alright at it, actually. I just wish I was "lightning fast."
3. School - en general. It'd be great to be awesome without trying, studying, whatever.
4. Robotics - I wish I knew what I was doing.

10,000 hours, so here goes.

I'm trying.

"You'll never have to ask,

I'll give you my sweet grass. I'm gonna mesmerize your ass."

Ahahaha. I love song lyrics, really, because half the time, they make no sense. And I truly, truly love things in life that are nonsensical. It is even a fantastic word!

Cirque du Soleil was nice. I think I am going to keep playing the cello forever, because I love it and because it is beautiful and because it is my only personal connection to anything artistic. I really actually like when people ask me if, since I go to Herron, I am an artist. I think it is nice that they think I just might have that type of talent, when in all actuality, I do not. Sadly.

I've been thinking about that "10,000 hours to become a master" comment Jakob made the other day nonstop. It made me really excited, because I started to think of all the things I would like to be a master at.

1. The cello. This is a priority. There is nothing more lovely than a cello played well.
2. Opera singing. I think this would jovial and fun. Who doesn't want to be able to sing opera?
3. The harmonica. I am thinking this will only take about 5,000 hours, since there isn't too much to it. But maybe I have no idea...
4. Tap dancing. Everyone did it when he/she was four, so why did it die out? It was enjoyable for a reason. You make sounds with you feet and smile to jazz music.
5. Whittling. Think of all the fun figurines I could carve. I also decided yesterday that I will one day make my own cello. This may be useful in this craft.
6. Running. Does this even qualify? I don't think my body has the capability to be a master runner.
7. Boxing. 'Nuf said.
8. Flower breeding. I could crossbreed all sorts of beautiful plants and name them after my favorite people in the world, and then open my own little shop in Switzerland to sell them under the psuedonym Ida Bean.

That's about all I have thus far. We'll see. It should grow tremendously. But the exciting thing is, with modern technology, I just might live long enough to master some of these for real! I could be a ninety-year-old tap dancing whittler who sings opera to pass the time. And this, I think, is incentive enought to grow up, something I have been dreading terribly lately.

I hope you are feeling better. It is a relief to hear you do not have mono. Have a lovely time cleaning your room, and I will talk to you very soon.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANDREA!

The Ultimate Christmas Playlist

There are several indicators that my house is the most commercialized version of the Lord's birth in the area.
1. Santas are everywhere. They are holding books of carols, riding in sleighs, combing their beards. They are bears in disguise, old floppy men, and figurines in snow globes.
2. There is not a single Jesus in this household. Not one cross, not one Bible on display. There is, however, a small nativity, which my mother said, "does not fit in" and is going to be removed.
3. Half of out house is "whimsical," the other half is "traditional." Jesus was neither whimsical nor traditional. He was Jesus. And the twenty-fifth of December is Christmas. Not meant for themed mantels. Let's not even talk about the animal tree; it doesn't have anything to do with the ark.
4. Our stockings were ordered from Pottery Barn. No sweet displays of familial affection, knit from Grandma. Nope. Grandma don't knit.
5. The fact that right now, as I right this, I am fulfilling my assigned duty. It was passed to me because I do a shitty job of cleaning, and my mother honestly thinks this is really important. No joke. I am creating the ultimate Christmas playlist on iTunes. I'm for real. And it is taking me quite a long time. She keeps passing me more and more CDs, Barbara Streisand, the Rat Pack, Perry Como, one after the other.

And, woah, it is overload. But somehow, I will admit, this commericialization doesn't ruin the holiday at all for me. I'm just so happy. I don't know, really, what about Christmas it is for me. I do like lights, and I have always loved happy music. And I sure do enjoy presents, and when I do give them, I like it. But it isn't the whole together aspect, or the warmth and love, I don't think. I mean, look at all the stress it causes in my family. But yet, maybe it is all worth it. For those few hours, in the deep night of Christmas Eve or very early on Christmas morning, maybe all the stress, all the unhappiness of preparation, maybe it all kind of washes away. And I love it.

Merry Christmas.
I hope you have a wonderful day, really.
And I'll talk to you soon.

I look back

and I don't think I'm that stupid, or confused. I don't think I'm that immature. I don't think I was lost.
I look back and I just don't really have any idea - and maybe that says it all.
I look at myself now, and I've got a good idea, just no drive.
Maybe that's it. Then, I had drive. Now, I'm just tired.

Top Ten Things I Like To Eat And Not Feel Guilty About Later:
1. Any type of healthy cereal; see Kashi and Cheerios. They are so good, so I don't know why I gravitate towards Golden Puffs.
In some ways, maybe my choices will be the death of me.
2. Fruit! It just makes you happy.
2A. Specifically, fruit salads of happigoodness.
3. Toasted peanut butter/honey sandwiches. Yes.
3a. Waffle-wiches. Enough said.
4. Ice cream in mugs because if you just have one mug, that means you aren't having too much. And it's so good.
5. String cheese, though I've been eating it so much lately I'm kind of getting tired of it.
6. Carrots and ranch dressing. Yes, yes, and yes.
7. Rye bread with cinnamon butter. It's just so good.
8. Mashed potatoes!
9. Egg noodles. (Speaking of with, this and the prementioned withh me present at Thanksgiving. Yes.)
10. Tomatoes, especially in the summer. As is tomato and mozzarella paninis, as in just-tomato sandwiches, as in I love you.

And, maybe she's right, maybe these are the things that define me.
She as in Ayn Rand.

As in, as in, as in, I'm pretentious.
The word pretentious is pretentious, I love words like that.

I've got a lot to do. Me? Go shopping tomorrow?
But maybe that's the problem. I'm making it weird for me to go shopping for tights and a sweater. Do I like the dress? I don't mind it. Why do I not bother? I don't mind it. Is it the problem that I don't mind? "I could never see you in a dress!" Fuck you, I could never see you naked, thankgod,thankyou.

You might think I'm angry but I'm smiling and calm.

I love best friends that schedule things for other best friends, like Taylor is doing for Kimber. I do.

1. Clean my room, tonight. It's a bit of a mess and a cat has thrown up in my closet but you see, I am God, it'll be easy.

Audrey, Disney Scene-It is here!

2. Do homework/missing work, once again find my paper de passsword/username because I'm a loser like that, in the way that I lose things. Not basketball games though.

3. Get some money for holiday shopping. (Get-rich-quick scheme 1: nada.)

I love holiday shopping. I don't understand how people hate it. I think it is one of the best parts of the holiday season. Materialistic? Probably. But some things do make me happy, that's my right. That's my perogrative. But I've got this bass line...

LOSE YOURSELF! (Loser.) You had it coming.

And what person is this in? 1,2,3 Or E. All of the above.

Yes, I am installing the Zune Updated Software, Yes, finally, after months of clicking "Remind me later," Yes I'm awesome.

4. Buy Zune USB cord, for where has mine gone? With the cowboys?

The generation that emerged from a shithole. That's just the way my mind works. Can you hate someone for that, I don't think so.

If you type a sentence one letter at a time is it more sincere? Thus, presents my argument for having sex before marriage.
I'm not backspacing in the blog post, except when there are typos. It's a self-correcting live-feed of my brain. Like the book, but minus the adcertisements.

Zuneware has been successfully installed! I wonder what this means for my life!
You know something is newly installed when you find it on my desktop. I like to hide my virtual things I guess. That sounds so creeper.

I've got a lot of feelings, maybe the answers lie in these brain-feeds. Can that be our new blog name? Brain-feeds? Maybe I'll do it myself and see how you feel about it?

Things I'm Pretentious About:
1. Music. I am so proud of the music I like and listen to. It's redic. Pride and prejudiced. I like when Elizabeth tells me I know "every freaking song," I think of it as a talent.
2. Books. I feel the same way about books as I feel about music. I just have to own them.
3. Politics. I think I am pretty snotty about being a liberal. Snotty? No. Just, in these matters, it's one of the few things I really think I'm right in. I don't mean to, and sometimes I feel bad, but I guess that's just me.

I think that's it. Maybe no?

All other things I am unabashed. Good word.
I might go sleep with Emily? I can't sleep, I'm not tired, I'm thinking constantly. If only I could turn my brain-feed off.
So sci-fi.
"I'm just visiting." Where will the future take us?

I am so afraid of physical memory dumps, they need to stop, and they need to stop now!

Maybe I'm excited to go dancing with myself? But I don't mean masturbate, I mean shopping. More holiday thinking? I think I think more this time of year. Maybe it's the spirit?

What time is it there? Are you tired? Are you scared?

How long will the blog be here? Will I regret asking that?

I might go sleep with Emily, in her tiny, uncomfortable bed. She's amazing.

"It won't translate." What all is lost in translation?
Feeling?

I hope to never have to accept that it's over.
I'm smiling.

I think it can always be made right, I just don't know how.

"I'm in a world apart,

a world where roses bloom."

I'm content. Maybe because it seems as if, right now, I have time. I don't like to be rushed. I like to saunter. I like listening to Louie Armstrong. I like to sit and think a bit, and then stretch out and read for a while, and simply smile for a moment. I like to be lazy. I don't think it is lazy, really. I think it is enjoyable. So maybe it isn't lazy, just thinking. Maybe.

I don't like this place you are in, I can state simply enough. Why is much more complex. I wish you would slow down a bit and join me right here, where I sway along the rose-surrounded path.

I just finished all of the government terms, and I'm about to start of the other half of the study guide. Then, cello, running, a shower, pre-calc, and SAT studying for an hour or so.

I like this plan.

I like plans. I like lists, I like schedules. But I like spontaneous occurences just as much. I like random bursts of song and surprises. I like random warm days when it has been cold and random cold days when it has been warm. I like happiness in the middle of sadness, and sometimes,sadness in the middle of happiness. I like long breaks when I've been busy and a random spurt of business when I've been on the couch for too long.

I like movies.
I like globes.
I like lamps.
And I really, really like flowers.

And I'm going to go now, to be in a happy place called my paradise, which others seem to think is just a green couch in the kitchen with a yellow blanket. But, no. It is much, much more.

I think I'll go read.
Maybe I won't run...

"You'll

always have me around."
I am asking that a lot lately.
What if I just...didn't? Or, even, what if I did? None of this is spurred from depression or any of that, no, it's from, well, honestly.
What if I did?
Would I be okay? Dissappointed? Am I young and angsty and stupid?
Probably.
But,
I'm also ingenius, dammit.

That just made me smile.

I like...
Smiling by myself, or making myself laugh. It's just a good feeling.
I like cold feet in the process of warming hope. It's a miniscule form of hope.
Folk music. I like it a lot.
CHRISTMAS, WHICH IS COMING UP!
And good sleep.

I'm in a weird mood. Stressed, aware, unrelaxed, missing you...
But, also, calm?
In a way, for some reason, the only way I can imagine someone feels right before they get into a life altering car accident.
Metaphorically?
What will be my car crash?
Hm.

I'm addicted to what people think, not really about me though.

Hm, hm, hm...

A lot of hm's.

This weekend was really, really good.

I was not a big fan of the MacBeth play, but I am really liking the play.

This is such an interesting time in life, internally, expternally.

I don't really know what to say. I'm kind of at a I-have-a-lot-of-feelings-but-don't-really-know-what-to-say place in my life.
Hey ya, mixed berry.

Good morning, sunflower.

"And, speaking of high school...

I never passed that."

I wonder if, sporadically, we just upped and dropped out of high school? What would happen then? Or, possibly even worse, we completely failed it? How would everyone react? I think I would be quite depressed for a little bit, and then I'd realize that the situation is really, truly, and completely...hysterically funny.

I like dancing, too. I was home alone today, and I put on my headphones and went downstairs to clean, and I realized that I can kind of shaking my hips as I walked, and then I started all out dancing, going crazy and singing at the top of my lungs, and Hank was excited and he started barking and running around, and I was chasing him and shaking my head and getting my Beyonce on. It was a good time, really. I like random moments when I'm home alone, singing and dancing and being stupid. Comfortable. I like being comfortable. I like no stress, no anger, no sadness. I really, really do like happy. I know most people imply they like happy, but I really do. And maybe, yeah, I like to hide my problems. I like to think that everything's a-okay, but that's how I'm comfortable. And that's how I like it. And occassionally, I break down, yeah, but then I can go back to my happy universe. I'm happiest when I'm happy, you know? I'm happiest when other people are happy, too. So maybe me wanting to change the world is purely selfish--I don't care if these people are happy, it's simply that if they are happy, I will be even moreso. But I hope that's not why.

I love being warm when I'm cold. I love hot chocolate and Christmas songs and cartoons. I simply cannot wait. Again, it's happy, and I like it. Christmas, I mean. It's just so...wonderful.

I think I can go to Macbeth tomorrow, happily. I'm excited. I really like Shakespeare at the IRT, especially on the stage we're going to. I saw Twelfth Night there, and it was fantastic.

Must run.
Well, not really run.
Must dance.

I just remembered something wonderful,

something fantastic.

Something exciting.

Happy one year blog anniversary!

"And all of the things we found so hard to say,

maybe now they'll..."
Not everything has to be finished.
And, you know, I like that.

I did something today that you are going to be very proud of.
I saw Mamma Mia!.
Yep, and I liked it, and I smiled, and I laughed, and well...and well. That is what.

I like slow songs but I like to dance too. I do like to dance, with people. With the right people. The people that make me smile. I like holding hands, and feeling different hands. I like not worrying about who is seeing me hold whoever's hands because there is this attatchement that, even if I tried to pull away for public acceptance, well, I can't. It's too wonderful not too. I like shoes that are just a little too big, but they somehow fit perfectly. I love goofy people that are goofy looking. I love good hair days, although for me my hair is always greasy when I have them. I love confidence and the days I have it. I love talking about anything and everthing, and when conversation flows. When new thoughts come up. When there are little bickerments but it keeps moving forward.
I love that.

I love when someone that is really warm sits next to you, and is all warm and wonderful and cuddly. It's a good thing.

I am not at school. And I feel better, I'm excited to go to school tomorrow. I am going to basketball practice, though. Ha.

Audrey, you are a really good writer.

Lineweaver has really good assignments.

I hope you would like to come out of your blanket tent soon. I am holding your Halloween candy hostage. Not really. I will slip as many pieces under the blanket as you need me to. I will wait, as patient as a saint.

I like falling asleep early when I'm really, truly tired.
I like being really, truly tired, because I feel like it's a reward for trying really hard. I like knowing that I tried really hard. I don't know all the time, and I wonder if that means I didn't try hard. I do not know.

I've got some things for you, yep.

Things I am thinking about.
1. Childhood memories - They can be sad, but I seem to also be sad about the good ones. I wish I never saw the pictures of naked people at Emily's dad's horshoe league clubhouse thing. I wish I would have been protected from that. Television made me feel better though, so I've got that. I don't want to wish, I'm okay where I am.
2. I need to find my house key. It's obnoxious to climb in the window, every single time. It's old news.
3. In the picture, my teeth were as yellow as my hair. Agh.

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
In the morning I'll be with you
But it will be a different "kind"
I'll be holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines

My, my, my, we are growing up. It's wyrd.

I'll call you tonight, I'll see you tomorrow, I'll be better and so will you.

Good day,
Audrey Elizabeth. Good day.

"Yes I would, if I could, I surely would."

Today was not cold fall. Today was wonderful. I just wish I were more energized. The black abyss that is your TV and the narrow valley that was my place on the couch did not aid me in my quest for sleep.
I like pictures that hang without frames. I like finding CDs that appear to be blank, and then you listen to them. Old mixes from seventh grade with "It's Raining Men" on them. Twice. I like mechanical pencils and crappy pens that bleed ink occassionally. I like paper clips, and not when they are decorated. I like when my family has dinner together, and conversation flows. I like when Katie does poorly at soccer; I will admit it. There is a sense of competition with my nine-year-old sister. And I like boxes. I like putting the ones from the post office together. I like cardboard.

I don't want to go back to school. Really, I like school. I like having homework. I like learning, and tests, and weird projects. But I'm simply not feeling it right now. I would rather read crappy teen novels and eat Halloween candy by myself under the covers. I want a tent. A giant white tent that is fluffy and wonderful, and at night it covers me like a blanket, but during the daytime it will allow the sunlight to glow through slightly, beckoning me outside. And maybe I'll leave my giant tent. But maybe not. I will on my own time, and no one, not even sunlight, can make me.

I'm tired. I'm achy. But I'm calm. I'm ready to watch Cinderella with Katie. To be honest, I like my mom telling me I have to stay home once a night during the weekend. I was glad to hear it. I like being home. I like watching simple children's movies. I like falling asleep early.

I want to read and write and grow up like a sunflower.
Maybe I'll reincarnate into a sunflower. I'll give that a few rounds. A whirl.

They kissed.
Yep. They did.

I don't know why I'm writing this, really. You won't see it for a while. You're at Memaw's, which doesn't have a computer, so you can't check it. But you're used to not having a computer, since you spend all of your time there now.

But maybe the blog isn't about when you'll read. Just that you will. And that in itself is a comfort.

"I feel I must interject here,"

Agh, it's fall. Cold fall. Not boring, "official fall" but still green fall. It's cold, windy, colorful, gray fall. And it's sort of wonderful.
I often feel badly that I do not memorize things. I want to know my favorite poem, I want to keep by heart a passage from Shakespeare, I want to do that. I will.
I want to start re-reading what I have read. Instead of making a To Read list, why, I suppose I'll make a Have Read Part Two list. I want to understand them know as I did not when in my past. Why I feel like I could understand it now? I do not know, but I feel as though I could. Which may or may not mean I can. I could very well end up dissappointed, but somehow, I feel like if I really try, I won't. So it has to come naturally forced.
Time.
I am also glad to be back here in the blogosphere.
It's an old home.
I've also had a good weekend. Mostly spent with you and Memaw, but very well. I did something I thought I would never do.
I enjoyed MCL Cafeteria.
I see these people and their experiences and wonder if they mean something to me. If wondering that they mean something, if that makes them mean something. Sad that, when I lay in bed, late at night, I wonder mostly about people I've yet to know. Or never know. Sometimes it's better that way.
No one is ever just friends. "Just" applies that there are no attatchments, I feel like. "Oh, it's just that." Just. No, no, no just's here. Plenty of tied heartstrings.
The Cyclops (a kitten with one eye) is that the vet's office. Crossing my fingers.
For what, just good luck, I suppose.
I know the feeling of things dissappearing. It's very weird. Like you can swear it was there, but it isn't. Either there are different versions or recent renovations, I prefer the vision that was in my mind.
Laugh, laugh, laugh. It's the best.
I have charges at the library again. But no CD's, so it'll be a lot less money! And let's see, well, I think I'll always forget the due dates of my library books. Memaw wonders how I am so careless, I smile at my consistency to forget. It's kind of plesant in a way.
I can barely see and have not been checking for seplling mistakles, typos, or grammar errors. Do pardon.
I'm listening to Last.Fm for the first time in a long time. I always put in the same artist to play related aritsts. Ha.
You having texting? That's going to be so weird. Be prepared to be forever bothered by me.
I have tha same exact feeling that I did blogging here the night of Thanksgiving, getting ready to go shopping with my Mom, around ten or so. Weird. Kind of anxious. I think I will go drop off my library books in just a bit.
Got my grades and I'm at a point where I could go for the worse or for the better nad it's good to feel confident in knowing that I can make myself go for the better, now.
And there's motivation.
Good times ahead, I think?
Winter has the opposite affect on me in regards to seasonal depression, I think.
It makes me happy.

By the corner of 16th and Deleware being your place of employment, are you implying that you are a prostitue? Ahaha...


"Cheer up, won't you?" the Ticketmaster asked after a long, awkward pause. The Ragpicker sat back a little and sighed, looking at the Ticketmaster reather curiously. The Ticketmaster, always having something up her sleeve, or being thought to, simply smiled, then grabbed the Ragpicker's dirty but comforting hand and lead her to a place that the Ticketmaster was once known for complaining about: The Abbey Coffeehouse. "Let's get you something to drink," said the Ticketmaster, leacving the Ragpicker in the serene entrance of the Abbey. Minutes later, a frazzled Ticketmaster came back with hot apple cider. "Sorry that took so long, the service is still as if I were here." Then the Ticketmaster leaned in again, only this time to...

Ahahaha, two points.

Well, I'm off to actually be a person now.
??
Bye!

"Wait a minute--wait a minute, here."

Well, hello there, cyberspace!
It has been much too long since we have become connected, and I'm glad to be back.
I've had a good weekend. After you left, my dad popped in Monster's Inc. for my mom and I to watch the end scene that we love so much, but I fell asleep almost instantly, my mom never came to watch it, and Katie was playing SIMS. So my dad watched it all by his lonesome, until I woke up for the last ten minutes. And then, our favorite scene wasn't even there! I swear! It completely disappeared. Saddening.
And then, I went to HSM3, for reals, with Eileen. And we laughed together, which was nice. After which, we headed over to Jessie's, and what happened there is sworn to secrecy. Sorry. You shall never know. But it was a good time. We made cupcakes, and ordered pizza, and I stole slushies from the others who bought them, since they had money.
And today.
Nothing. I went to the library. They took away $40.00 in charges, so now I'm only up to seven. Only, ha.
What have you been doing?
I've tried calling you,
because I have good news phone wise.
Such as texting in the near future.
I'm serious.

"So what have you got to do today?" the Ticketmaster inquired, optimistic about the rest of the day. Just as she asked, the Ragpicker's phone started ringing it's oriental jingle and the Ragpicker looked down at the caller ID and sighed. "Well, let's get going," she said rather reluctantly. The Ticketmaster didn't understand the hint of sadness, but decided against asking again. "Well, alright, let's be on."

That was the last one, I believe.

They headed off towards the Ragpicker's place of employment, being the corner of sixteenth and Delaware. Here they sat for the majority of the day, and although they longed to be alone, they made the most out of this time together, people watching and making fun of old Herron students who did not recognize them, the Ragpicker in, well, rags, and the Ticketmaster having a normal hair color. They shared hot chocolate, as it had begun to turn slightly chilly, and they gave head rubs for the first time in a long time. And then, in a not altogether unexpected move, the Ticketmaster leaned in towards the dirty face of the Ragpicker.

Oh, golly.
I hope you are having a good time.
Call?
Bye.

"From that day on, till I hit the bed

Amsterdam was stuck in my head."
Oh, boy, I was right on something related to music while arguing with you.
Is this amazing, or what?
As I looked at last.fm for any music to listen to while playing my beloved Zoo Tycoon, I can across Peter Bjorn and John.
Remember that time when I said that I liked the name Bjorn best out of the three of them, and you said that Peter Bjorn was one person?
No, it is not.
They are two separate musicicans. And then there is John, somewhere.
But, he is beside the point, the point being that there are THREE and the name Bjorn for a guy is out there. And this, this makes my heart sing.
And, also beside the point is the fact that this poor blog has been neglected since the month of about February. That is a long time, but I think it'll be okay, as long as we write on it once and a while. I say we both have to hit it up at least once a week. Agreed?
And, also, I am now looking up the Jay-Z "30 Something" lyrics, and...it doesn't have anything on there, meaning what I believed to be "tudah" was probably just a strange sound emitted from the throat of a genius, as you previously stated. So, there you go, you have regained some respect.
When I asked the iPod what tomorrow would be like, it replied with "Lazy Days of Summer" by Nat King Cole. I think this is a good sign.
Good-bye.
See you in a week.

Rest ye weary head.

I want a nap. My stomach hurts. I have to write my whole rough draft tonight. I have to write my student governent speech. There are quite a few days left in the week. I'm a vegetarian now. Oddly enough I think it was because of an incident with an onion today. I wish I thought more before I speak but I always ponder if that would make me different. What is different? It's all there, I think. I want to get out, play some tennis, I wish I knew someone around to play with. It could be fun. It's rather cold though. I found something awesome today but it cost much too much. I need to clean my room and it feels like I basically just did. I want to see a UFO again, I feel like my judgement would be much more educated now. I feel like studying, but not doing work. If that makes any sense at all... I need new underwear and bras. I'm going on a health craze, once again the onion incident being a catalyst. I want to work on my iPod too. I think cuddling with a kitten would be nice right now but the ones we have at the moment are rather vicious. My glow-in-the-dark crucifix has not ever glowed in the dark and I wonder if that bugs me more than I think it does. Maybe it'll glow once I believe in Christ. I wonder if I will, or rather if I do. I want to have time to read again and I want to organize my book shelf. It's time for PESTO PASTA!

That's just what is in my head for now.
Just for now.