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| Honesty is liberating. Telling someone that you think they're
wonderful, I think, is always good--whether they think the same about
you or not.
I get to go to President's Ball on Saturday! First time in three years;
figured I shouldn't miss it and I actually know men who can dance. i
ahve the most hideous $2.50 dress from a Phoenix thrift store--a black
and white polka dotted ball gown, replete with flourescent flowers the
size of salad plates on the skirt, a ruffly collar, and billowy
sleeves. So...tacky.
I hope you all are well. Off to read an article on how the Indian
activist and educator Zitkala Sa rebelled against traditional
autobiographical format.:) Yeah, that's me being a snotty nosed
humanities student.
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| Happy night:
Reviewing characteristics of British Romanticism, eating Perkins leftovers, listening to Tegan and Sara.
Tomorrow night is fondue, round two!
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| I don't wonder where the stress comes from. I know.
This weekend I got to write three glorious stories. 1000+ words for the
variety feature, 750 words for the sex column, 450 words for a dance
review. Plus homework for five classes, cello practice, and gathering
materials for a newspaper internship application which I will send by
expressmail tomorrow.
I am not going to think about the four projects that are due after
Thanksgiving, I am just going to breathe and sleep. And perform in
studio (cello) class on Thursday, and think nothing of it.
Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a boyfriend to curl up with.
To talk to, to lean on, to relieve the sexual tension with and dream
about the future. But I do pretty damn well for myself, and I need to
know that. And also to learn that cuteness will not propel for my whole
life, and that I better not treat people like I can get away with
everything. I'm learning, what can I say? Just wish I had more time to
journal, rather than ingesting tons of reading and expelling words onto
the page in a relentless cycle. But this semester will soon be over.
And kudos to me for breaking the "I don't see you" stupidity that had
developed between me and the most recent ex's new girlfriend. I don't
have to be ridiculous. And I can have a good time, being a social
butterfly. Or dryad, as the mythical creatures theme occasioned (at a
house party/concert Saturday night).Only weird part was, think that
some of the nasty feelings of the break-up were expressed in some of
the evening's song lyrics. Fear not; they were still danceable.
Looking forward to seeing you all over break, and secretly wishing for a little bit of snow.
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| Upon reading that last post, I'm not sure who my lovers are.
In other news, I am still busy. But fantasizing about Fargo over Thanksgiving. My bed, my kitty-cat and my family. Mmm.
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| Guess who's happy?
Me.
Thank you John, Joan Baez, and my new friends and lovers here at
school. Who knew that talking and good music could so effectively
relieve the burden of sadness?
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