Musings of a Seldom Heroine

2004-03-06T23:08:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to let you know that my grandfather, Joseph M. Frankle, passed away on Wednesday night at Stanford University Hospital. The funeral's tomorrow at 1; we're sitting shiva from 4:30 tomorrow afternoon until Tuesday night, with minyanim at 7:30. Please try to stop by, if you can make it, even for a little bit--I don't think I've ever felt so lonely before.

2004-01-19T22:36:00.000-05:00

Well, I don't know how the counting's supposed to go, but I'm considering second semester-ness from the day of my last first semester exam. Thus, with tomorrow's history exam o'doom the push (or putsch? argh, too much Hitler tonight) to being a second semester senior finally begins, after a full two years of premature senioritis. Woot.

2004-01-10T22:37:00.000-05:00

Ach. As usual, too long of a hiatus. A quick summary of the time since I came back from Fla.:

1/1/04(!): Running from the airport to Gelfy's party.
1/2 and /3/04: IA outline.
1/4/04: Dad's birthday. Udvar-Hazy center. Amazing.
1/5/04: Running from voice lesson to J&H audition, on 270, in the rain; making it to RM with fifteen minutes and five people left to go.
1/7/04: HoD discussion (gaaaaah!), Forensics rehearsal, Requiem at Wootton.
1/8/04: Monologue and dancing auditions. Called back.
1/9/04: Shakespeare monologue competition. alternate. Callbacks. Came home exhausted and aching, watched half of "A Mighty Wind," lay in the bathtub until 2115 when the number went un-busy. Lady Helen Savage.
1/10/04: Forensics meet at Magruder--saw Karen, Caitlin, AlexK, AbbyF. First place in Readers' Theatre for The Big Black Box, playing said box. IA outline conference. Not too horribly scary.

Good week. Tiring week. Happy Lissy.

2003-12-24T23:26:00.000-05:00

Going to Florida (again) tomorrow morning, coming back to Gelfy's house on the first (of '04!!!). Meaning I miss all the New Year's festivities. Oh well. Enjoy them. Merry and happy everything. Much love.

Much love. Off to be surrounded for eight days by people who will insist that I be straight, talkative, and cheerful. But then again, off to walk to the lighthouse and be alone with the ocean, sand, and my thoughts . . .

2003-12-15T20:44:00.000-05:00

Princeton '08.

Yayfor. It's over.

2003-11-27T12:12:00.000-05:00

So my mother lost the recipe for sweet potatoes in orange cups with marshmallows. The one I made this morning cut out the marshmallows and replaced them with rum and lots of butter. Happy Thanksgiving indeed.

Welcome home, bi/subvalves! You have been very thoroughly missed. Yesterday was awesome--Ruchita and Ranwa in Mads, Andrew in the History office--and last night I finished the WL paper and managed to convince the recipe-deficient mother that yes, I had enough time to go and chill with them again. Happy birthday, Ranwa!

Congrats to the TNers on two very favorable reviews in Montgomery Weekly. Heh. Richard is a thirty-year-old man.

Well, the sweet potatoes are finally done (75 minutes should be enough to depotentify the rum, n'est-ce pas?). Happy Thanksgiving to all of you--despite it all, we still have so much for which to be thankful.

2003-11-11T16:27:00.000-05:00

I think I did, anyway.

The copy I gave to Mr. Hines today, one of the many that we made on the night of Oct. 8 during the typing/editing/printing marathon, didn't have any, and neither do the other nineteen. But I remember printing it and stapling it . . . but how do I account for the three missing pages that could stand between me and an IB diploma?

2003-11-11T16:24:00.000-05:00

Merde.

I turned in my EE without my endnotes.

2003-11-09T22:13:00.000-05:00

Well this is screwed up.

I feel like my heart's just been broken. Hmmm. It doesn't feel empathetic, and I haven't been listening to Jim Croce, America, or the Carpenters, so it's not nostalgia. Crushes not entirely out of reach and still don't know that they exist as such, so it's not that either. I've been single since August of last year, and my summer flings from this one just past are still unattached, so personal relationship issues are out too. I just feel that unyielding emptiness, the aching in my chest that I've known so well over the past three years . . . I want an answer. I want to be in love again. I want things to not be so incomprehensible. I don't like being a drama pariah/exile, and I don't like feeling like I never see anyone anymore. I just feel so goddamn alone. But heartbroken? The hell?

2003-10-26T21:45:00.000-05:00

And still procrastinating. Sluggy Freelance=awesomeness in a bottle. With homicidal bunny rabbits and crazed ferrets. Woo.

2003-10-26T21:44:00.000-05:00

*sticks tongue out at Malex* So it took a little longer than expected.
I'm back, still tired, still working, still freaked out about the upcoming History test, still loving the Folger and Lear, still single, still have many college apps to finish. 228 days to go.

2003-10-05T17:47:00.000-04:00

"It is to be a complete fast . . ."
In observance of Yom Kippur, I will return to the online realm Tuesday evening.

2003-10-05T11:40:00.000-04:00

Iwantoutiwantoutiwantoutiwantout . . .
Just finished (essays and all) my first college application. This time next year, there won't be anyone looking over my shoulder telling me to come home at a certain time, or telling me I'm absolutely going to Ohio over Halloween instead of being here with my compatriots, or telling me there's no way I'm forgoing seeing my grandparents over winter break and that I can't come home for New Year's.

Yes, I know I'm seeing college through very tinted lenses. I'm just sick of having been so complacent for seventeen years, letting them control my every move and only getting to be myself on stage, when I'm actually playing someone else.

Homecoming: company couldn't have been better, Bryan was a sweety and tried to keep me from paying for dinner and keep me warm when we were standing outside, everybody looked exceptionally hot (especially Melly-yow!), and Joe Pastor (who lives down the street from me but whom I see about once every five years or so) was there. The dance, however, was--to put it in the best possible words--bleah. After last year's homecoming, I guess I've been spoiled, but the music was undanceable and I spent more time walking around, waiting in line for water, and talking to Valex, Shagun, Zorn, Ilana, and Sam than "cutting a rug" with my chivalrous date and highly attractive group. Then having to come home to my parents after such disappointment and talk about college applications and explain five times to my mother the IB requirements for graduation--like I said, I want out. Subvalves, you were extremely extremely extremely missed. I think I went traipsing off looking for Nick at one point, only to remember . . .

People to whom I owe dances, so I remember for future use:
~Bryan (for having left early and being in the bathroom at the wrong time) ~Melly (because we didn't dance nearly enough) ~Zorn (because I promised and then couldn't find you!) ~Valex (for having run off before we went back out again) ~Megalyn (because.)

2003-09-24T20:33:00.000-04:00

Damn.

You know the expression "worried sick"?

I think I'm coming down with something.

Heh--I originally wrote that "someone." Freudian slip, anyone? Slight--oh, so slight--obsession, anyone?

Melly and Amy and Valex and Ben--yes, that one--win the Lissy award for today, Melly with high honors because she is the awesomest and knows exactly what I'm feeling right now on the college front. Thanks, guys.

2003-09-23T23:35:00.000-04:00

The first part of my first-ever college application (the non-essay part) is sitting on the kitchen table, ready to be mailed.

Here we go . . .

In the last few days, I've made up my mind, dropped some schools, decided where I'm applying early, and resolved to share no more information until I know what the early result is. Please don't ask until then. Only Paul and my parents actually know, and they're not telling . . . I hope . . . it's just a personal thing I have. Mneh--like I said below, tired of fighting, tired of being coherent. Sorry.

2003-09-23T23:22:00.000-04:00

But my head throbs, my shoulders ache, my back longs to be lain down on a soft mattress, while I was walking I wanted those stars overhead to be more numerous and on a darker sky over the bay rather than a suburban concrete-and-brick landscape, I came within feet of running up their front steps, ringing their doorbell, and begging for a hug, letting a mother embrace me without any anger towards me in her heart. But she's not my mother, much as I wanted her to be when mine was standing on the porch yelling at me to come in as I walked up our street, and if she was what I feel for her son would be incestuous.

I'm just tired of fighting.

2003-09-23T23:14:00.000-04:00

Paul wins tonight.
Paul's mom wins honorable mention for giving me his number when I accidentally called her after not having seen or spoken to her in almost six months, but Paul wins the prize for being the most wonderful person on Earth.
Mom and I had a falling out that involved screaming, crying, throwing things, ripping up things, slamming doors, my running out barefoot and being dragged back from a block away by Jonathan, and eventually my tearful (but shoed) exit, cellphone in hand, for a much-needed walk, emotional outpouring, and call.

Thanks, Paulibus, and good luck to you, too.

2003-09-21T20:33:00.000-04:00

Anyone who wins him for me will earn my eternal gratitude.

Going up to Princeton tomorrow--no school, yay--to avoid having to miss Friday.

2003-09-21T20:30:00.000-04:00

Guys, may I respectfully request that those of you who do not have robots blocked please refrain from using my full name anywhere? I noticed it on Ruchita and Jen's blogs when I was Googling myself (as I do periodically, just to see what would come up if my parents ever did) and, well, certain things on this blog haven't been revealed to them yet. Thanks.

2003-09-20T15:44:00.000-04:00

After 26 hours, the power came back on at 3:07 this morning; I looked at the blinking clock, then promptly turned back over and slept for six more hours.

We lost a couple tree limbs (none from my tree, thank goodness--it's the one the tree man said was supposed to fall after the first big storm we had when we moved in), and there were some big trees down around the community, but everything is hauled out now. It was so quiet last night, and Rockville was so dark . . . I went to Dunkin' Donuts at Wintergreen to do Palmer where there was light and hot coffee, then looked out the window and was amazed to find that I couldn't see anything. RM was merely a black blob on a black sky, but rumor has it the gym has power again, so school probably does too. :( Oh, well, power outage=Cicero all done.

You know what they say about how absence makes the heart grow fonder, and as soon as you find yourself committed, people start noticing you? We went out to dinner with a certain young man's family last night, and, well, give the poor sap two months, and already be asked to homecoming, and he'll come running. I was aloof, he was flirtatious . . . role reversal, anyone? It would be nice if something happened . . . really really really nice . . . but this limbo of actually being noticed but not having to follow through isn't that bad either. Nothing came of last night (so far as I can tell), but there's time. Ah, time. Ah, first workout in several days, after three meals of melting ice cream. Off to the gym.

2003-09-18T14:08:00.000-04:00

Here it comes . . . dizzy mlle. izzy with her rain and her wind. I want my dad to come home. Very glad we decided not to drive up to Princeton today. Said goodbye to my tree, just in case. Prayed for Martin and his family out on the Chesapeake Bay. Made enough brownies to last a month.

Stay safe, mes chers.

2003-09-14T21:07:00.000-04:00

So they didn't cast me.

Senior. In mads. In drama since day 1.

I'm a lot calmer now than I was 48 hours ago. I've stopped crying--it was never sobs, only burning tears that seemed to fall of their own accord, much as I willed them not to; it really shouldn't hurt this much, not this late in the game--and have come to accept the fact that hey, I'll actually have three months of uninterrupted voice lessons, and time to tutor for NHS, and time to read Torah and get involved at Har Shalom again, and maybe even time to get sleep on occasion.

In just over an hour, I will be seventeen years old, at long last. I walked around St. Michaels today with a button that said "Kiss me, it's my birthday!" Needless to say, nobody took me up on the offer.

So, on the cusp of entering a new year--perhaps a new era, we'll see--I am sans a capella callbacks, sans any role (cast, crew or otherwise) in drama for two entire shows, sans completed Folger journals, sans finished Cicero, sans memorized map, sans the fruition of the past year's hoped-for weight loss, sans a complete Shakespeare Club mailing list. I tremble at what lies before me. I quake before the unknowns, the work yet to be done, the strength I need to find in myself, the pressure still to come crashing down, the knowledge I will never be as beautiful, embracing, and timeless as the sea.

But I have a date for Homecoming. Perhaps more than that? We'll see, we'll see. All in good time.

Happy half-birthday, Boedecker.

2003-09-09T23:48:00.000-04:00

Wow. Hello, blog. It's been a while.

Folger is kicking. Today's class on Midsummer was unbelievable amounts of fun and enlightenment. The people . . . oh, don't even get me started on the people. They're incredible. And then following it up with Madrigals tonight--it don't get much better than that.

Except that everything else is lost in a jumble of exhaustion, nerves, college apps, and school stuff. Auditions, TOK presentation, Calc quiz, and journals tomorrow. Please tell me things will look up once I turn 17 . . . anything has to be better than the past year.

In other news tonight:

Seer

The ULTIMATE personality test
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2003-09-03T23:43:00.000-04:00

Ben . . . brooooooooothermine . . . where's the server? I need to post to IBCorner . . . now . . . I get the feeling that I'm either getting kicked out of the house or sent to a psychiatrist within the next week, if you know what I mean. Shit.

2003-08-27T22:24:00.000-04:00

To the Drama gods:

I have in my hand the Fantasticks script. You know what I want. Grant me this favor and I will ask for nothing more. Well, very little more.

2003-08-27T22:23:00.000-04:00

Patched! My computer no longer has the Blaster virus (special props and thanks to Megan and Ben), so I can get online long enough to post again.

School begins, after NSLC, the Navy, Echo Hill, and college visits. Two-hour delays, stupid principals, lockerlessness, schedule issues, CAS hour rejections, and requests for college recommendations have made the first two days a bit screwy and bitter, but this semester's gonna be awesome.

IB English 12, Mrs. Barrett: I like her. She seems really, really passionate about literature and the personal response thereto. Huge class, but with Bryan, Barky, and Adler again--all we need is Melly.

AP BC Calculus, Mr. Davis: Math! And it's CALCULUS! come on, Lissy, calm down . . . Melly, Michelle, Kevin, Bryan, and Jane (!!) in this one, and I've heard good things about Mr. Davis. And it's a MATH CLASS (!!!!!) so it can't be bad, as long as my buddies let me focus this time (Melly . . . .).

IB Physics, Part 2, Mr. Willard: Willert again. I hope he gets his act together soon. Yet another class with Bryan.

TOK 2, Mr. Evans:I've never had Mr. Evans before, but his reputation definitely precedes him. I actually have a lot to say this year, and he says it'll be mostly discussion--life is good. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I fall strongly on the relativist side. Good class--Bryan (again!), Julia, Mark, Adler, Anika, Chris (good ol' Chris Ryan), Christine, among others.

Then . . . BEST AFTERNOON SCHEDULE EVER

IB History 2, Mr. Hines: Mr. Hines all year. I am so much in awe of him (and very afraid, as is evidenced by my very timid recommendation and aiding requests today). Bryan (for the last time), Christelle, Kevin, Jela, NickK, and the history genii (Tobin, D-Belk, etc). Soooooooo excited.

Madrigals, Mr. Frezzo: Mads. 'nuff said. Thrilled.

Aid, History Department: They call me the "aide-de-camp" and have me cut papers and alphabetize and chat with me and with each other (uncensored, but I am sworn not to tell anyone what I hear). More face time with Mr. Beach=good for EE advising.

So there's really nothing bad about this schedule, except not having Mme. Nugent because Mrs. Solomon made me drop French to take English first and clear out 7th. I'll be praying for her anyway.

Next Thursday I have to skip out of Mads early to go to the Folger for the first time. I'm nervous. Nick, Ben, how did you manage?

2003-08-17T15:46:00.000-04:00

So in case you didn't get it from that last post, camp was incredible. I'll never be the same again.

Sadly, I'm leaving in five minutes for St. Louis and Chicago for college visits, so I don't have time to discuss the particulars, but I will tell you that some of them involve green paint, Jell-o, a spinning bottle, "penis-flavored cotton balls", a dying frog, popcorn, Van Morrison's "Moondance," a frisbee, barefootedness, love, stars, sails, and a blanket, not all at separate times. See you all in a few.

2003-08-16T18:18:00.000-04:00

Before I got in the shower today I took a good look at myself in the mirror. My face was red from sunburn, after too many days of sailing and games of ultimate, and sobbing; it was wet with my own sweat and tears. Bug bites, tan lines, random cuts and bruises litter my body, but the tears in my soul are far worse. One last look at myself as a child--then I washed it down the drain.

Someone stop the crying . . . it hurts too much to leave.

2003-07-19T15:20:00.000-04:00

20 hours 20 hours 20 hours . . .

As you may remember from last year, no e-mail, no electriciy, no phone, no shoes. Call today if you want the address. Again, I'll try to write, but I may be so out of it and lost in my own thoughts and sailing that time and ability to process enough to be able to communicate will become skewed and disabled. See y'all in a month. Enjoy.

2003-07-13T15:21:00.000-04:00

Hmm. I wonder if, over time, we build up tolerance for rejection. I'm barely even shaking now, and I hung up the phone less than five minutes ago. Compared to how I felt after Barky, or, even better (well, worse, I guess), Kevin turned me down, my reactions have calmed down a lot.

But one would think that, over time, we'd also figure out some way to avoid the issue altogether. Operant conditioning and all that.

I'll just shut up now and stop thinking about him and immerse myself in 19th century naval practices and finish the stupid EE second draft already.

2003-07-13T15:11:00.000-04:00

You know how people talk about nice guys finishing last? It goes for girls, too.

Apparently, he likes where the friendship is now, because I'm a wonderful, nice, sweet person. But nothing more.

*blinks* And for once, I'm okay with that. We're going to try and see each other more often on a friendship-only basis, which will be a pleasant change from passing in the hallway at Har Shalom once a month.

But still, it would have been nice.

. . . and he told me I was very brave for having done it. Awww.

2003-07-12T22:17:00.000-04:00

In which Elissa kicks herself again and again

As per last night: I asked him.

Via a note.

Placed in his sister's bag accidentally instead of his.

The waiting's the hardest part. Not knowing if he got it or not is just as bad because I can't do anything about it.

Stupidstupidstupidstupid . . . argh.

2003-07-11T13:38:00.000-04:00

Becky insists I'm "playing at Blogger." Hey, what do you expect at 1330 on Friday when the supervisor's out, we get to go home in half an hour, and I spent two hours on "guard duty" answering stupid questions and reading (and finishing) A Farewell to Arms out in the front of the museum? Half an hour and I'll be done with my first forty (well, almost forty) hour week. Woo.

Me: "But Dr. Furgol, Austria's a landlocked country! How could we have a naval presence there after the war?"
Dr. Furgol, the illustrious supervisor who likes to go running at lunch in tight, brightly-colored shorts and parade past his female interns while on his way back to his office: "Well, someone had to patrol the Danube!"
If anyone can resolve this quandary, you will receive my eternal thanks for helping me finish my research. Ten volumes of "United States Naval Institute Proceedings" and several books later, the naval presence in Austria during the first five years of the Cold War, if there was one (nobody seems to know), eludes me. It's all I have left to do . . .

2003-07-10T14:29:00.000-04:00

I love this internship. Completely and utterly.

Only trouble is, I think I'm doomed to popsicle-hood if someone doesn't control the frigging air conditioning. Brrr. *turns into block of ice*

2003-07-10T13:42:00.000-04:00

Score! I'm going to lunch with the cute intern from Aviation History on Monday. Don't read into it, mes chers--it's only because he's the closest person around here to my age (just graduated high school, unlike my fellow interns who are going to grad school in the fall) and because I'm tired of eating alone.

Also--score! I got my entire family into the Navy Yard semi-illegally through the non-visitor gate this morning by staring down an armed guard and convincing him (jedi mind trick?) that I had been told (which I had been!) that it was okay to bring them in on my badge. He waved us through, after some nervousness. Yayfor assertiveness. Welcome, new Lissy.

2003-07-06T23:02:00.000-04:00

I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded and unfolded and unfolding
I am . . . fine . . .

2003-07-06T22:48:00.000-04:00

--Post deleted at 0640--

2003-07-05T17:55:00.000-04:00

The other thing about having music always with me is that songs that brought me to my knees in September out of--you guessed it--nostalgia and regret have now taken on a new meaning. Jim Croce, Simon and Garfunkel, the Carpenters, America, Gordon Lightfoot make me smile rather than tear me apart, as they did after the magic of last summer. Music is a source of such constant joy again. I have learned to let the past sparkle, and while the memories will always be intwined in the melodies and lyrics, the songs sparkle now as well. I am stronger for having lived it, and am strengthened through the music associated with it.

This summer is different, no doubt about it. It's harder, it's lonelier, it's much more stressful. I don't even have swim practice on which to take out my frustrations. But there is indeed something beautiful about it. Someday Evanescence and James Taylor will bring me back, and maybe even bring me to life once more.

2003-07-05T17:48:00.000-04:00

Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from this nothing I've become . . .

2003-07-05T17:47:00.000-04:00

But sadly, I'm not wise
It's hard to talk away the memories that you prize

2003-07-05T17:46:00.000-04:00

As a postscript, I went to the Fourth in the two-piece I wore to Alex's, actually went in the water, and got the strangest tan EVER. No, you may not see it. Gah.

2003-07-05T17:45:00.000-04:00

Someone needs to invent a cure for nostalgia. And regret. Cheering in the broiling sun for two hours, yelling onesself hoarse by the fourth event, and hanging out with four of the most awesome people ever, people who one sees entirely too rarely because they all go to Wootton or Frost, help to make up for the pain a little, though. I miss swimming--miss the other thing too, but swimming--for my beloved Sharks, but if they can win without me (if only by 12 points, but hey, it's a win) I can cheer for one year and make my triumphant (heh, who am I kidding) return next summer. Fallsmead over Eastgate--rawk. 3-0, babe.

Someone also needs to invent a cure for self-consciousness (even though, save for the last post, I'm slowly losing that, too), exhaustion, angst, stress, envy, confusion, too darn much summer work, and heartbreak. But not "earworms." Having songs stuck in my head is a source of never-ending joy. I am never without music. Hallelu.

2003-07-03T23:20:00.000-04:00

A gripe about the number 130.

On my license it says 116. I put down 127, but they pulled up my records from last year and took 116 anyway. I didn't mind. Mom had said I wasn't 127. There was no way, she said.

Ten days I ate salad and fruit--only--and climbed at least 120 stairs upwards of 6 times a day, without really having a purpose other than holding onto a vegetarian diet and getting to my dorm. I walked all over DC. I go to the gym regularly and make wise decisions about what I eat. Always. Mom told me when she met me at Union Station last Tuesday that I looked like I had lost weight.

The first week in June, it said 127. This afternoon, 130. What am I doing wrong?

Talk all you want about muscle weighing more than fat, about set points and daily fluctuations. The more I watch my weight, the more it goes up.

Most people don't seem to notice. Considering the amount of people of both genders who hit on me last week, the size doesn't seem to be a factor. Yes, it's a bigger deal in my mind than anywhere else. But there's always that nagging voice--nagging memory, really--of two girls on a beach towel at camp, whispering, then my name and the word "fat" following closely behind. That was my motivation first for putting on a shirt rather than walking around in my swimsuit, even though it was only our cabin that was out, and then for trying as I have been to watch what goes in and how it gets used.

That was back 14 pounds ago. I don't even want to know what the gossip will be this time. And if anyone thinks he or she can get me into a swimsuit tomorrow, I wish him or her the best of luck.

I hate being a teenage girl.

2003-07-02T13:24:00.000-04:00

Voici moi, l'idiote. C'est miraculeux que le district navale me laisse travailler pour eux. Lundi, la porte n'avait pas d'alarme. Aujourd'hui . . . comme je suis stupide. Je suis tellement stupide. Et il me reste encore deux heures et demi pendant lesquelles je dois rester ici, travailler, et toujours entendre les autres rire. Toujours ils riront a moi.

Tout ce que je veux c'est de travailler seule, toute seule, avec mes livres et mes bateaux, sans personne qui peut me detester.

2003-07-02T12:58:00.000-04:00

Typing this from an unclassified DoD computer at the Navy Yard in my 1/4 of the semicircular desk with my foot of space on either side before the next workspace surrounded by books on the early Cold War and Korea. Navy's cool. Eight-hour days are long. 12-hour days including commute are disgusting. Less sleep than during school year is miserable. Fellow interns and even boss are awesome, but everyone else's on a field trip to the Holocaust museum today, and since I don't feel like dying inside twice in a week by going there again, it's just me, the one high school intern with her books and music taking messages from the actual non-field-tripping employees to give to the other non-field-tripping employees that they're going to lunch and please to tell Dr. Furgol or Karin that they'll be back soon.

Three more hours 'till I'm off, five 'till I'm home.

2003-06-29T21:41:00.000-04:00

Back.

She was right, darn it.

I'm going to miss the people so much. The activities, no (except the Ultimate barefoot on the quad between lectures), but the people--it hurts already. How can friendships form themselves so quickly? How can time fly by so fast? I hope that promises to keep in touch will be upheld, and if Mike from Detroit ever shows up on my doorstep like he keeps telling all of us he will, eventually and randomly, he'll be welcomed with open arms.

I came out to my TA group (the people with whom we worked most of the time) on what I later learned was the same day that the Supreme Court made their ruling on the sodomy laws (mad timing skills, anyone?), and their immediate acceptance and unconditional support and respect brought me to tears almost as quickly as realizing I had to tell them did. "Challenge your assumptions," they told us on the first day, and for my group's willingness to do so unquestioningly, I will be in their debt forever.

And a certain would-be minister from Illinois, army brat from Virginia, and girl who shares almost my same face and outlook on life from New Jersey are credited with keeping me together before, during, after, and hopefully for a long time to come.

It's nice to be home, though, and sleep in my own bed in a warm room where I can play my music and sing in the shower and the surrounding hallway is dark and QUIET.

2003-06-25T15:31:00.000-04:00

And yes, I know everything looks worse on little sleep and lots and lots and lots and lots of dense stress. Hopefully I can put it all in perspective soon. Right now, I really don't want to have any human interaction whatsoever. Desole. *draws twenty foot circle around self*

2003-06-23T17:33:00.000-04:00

Lissy here, from the AU library between a leadership training session and dinner. It's weird--I'm the token Jew here, more closeted and less in character than I've been in months--but I've met some awesome people (awesomely awesome, lemme tell you--we ran around barefoot in our dress clothes yesterday and pelted each other with oranges and we have theological discussions over lunch--remind you of anyone?) who cancel out the nasty parts of the conference. I think I'm gonna stay the whole time, if only because of them, so I'll see y'all on the 29th.

2003-06-19T14:03:00.000-04:00

Be back on the 29th.

I'm really trying to keep an open mind about this, but anything that takes me away from my friends, team, job, and solace during my last summer at home, makes me the last one picked and first one out even more than usual, and forces me to spend 7/8ths of my time in a skirt and heels rather than bellbottoms and Birkenstocks--or bare feet and a swimsuit--sounds pretty shoddy.

*sigh* I'll try to keep in touch. Lily has my cell number if anyone wants it, and I'll try to write (snailmail), so if you hear from me please respond and keep me sane.

2003-06-11T22:53:00.000-04:00

And now I'm in Mads. An alto, to be sure, for the first time in a year and a half, but in Mads. Three out of four--and I've got time for the answers. I'll always be searching. So, the four desires are, for all intents and purposes, complete. Huzzah.

Congrats to the former seniors--go forth, good luck, etc., just don't forget to let me say a proper goodbye before you go. Love you all.

Come to Jane's courtyard concert tomorrow and Shakespeare on Friday!

2003-06-08T20:37:00.000-04:00

Lissy wins because not only did she utterly ace the parallel parking the second time around, but she got her license in the rain. Woo.

2003-06-05T21:48:00.000-04:00

If that last one was a bit cryptic, then yes, I got into the Folger.

Nice to see the seniors back again today. I've missed them so.

And as per the parallel parking post two down, I failed today on account of it, then promptly and accidentally slammed face-first into the concrete sidewalk out in front of the MVA. Humiliation everywhere. Stinkage.

2003-05-27T17:29:00.000-04:00

*boingboingboingboingboing*
OK. So. The four again:
1. Grr. Post it already.
2. Heehee!!!! *boingboingboing*EEEEEEEEEE!
3. Meh. Eventually.
4. Given up. Over it/him/what you will.

Only one really outstanding that can be remedied swiftly. If you see me at the concert tonight with a big goofy smile on my face, you'll be the first to know why.

2003-05-25T12:51:00.000-04:00

And just to add in even more frustration, I can't parallel park to save my life and my e-mail server's down.

Which doesn't bode well for getting my license next weekend or for receiving important life-altering correspondance. (ie the e-mail from my forthcoming boss at the Navy Yard regarding hours for the summer, the reply about being a hanky-waving Civil War-era girl for the Jeb Stuart celebration in three weeks, updates from my exboss about the status of the map project and his new job, information from NHS regarding who I'm tutoring if anyone over the next few weeks, etc)

Just wanna go back to bed . . . for the next several years . . .

2003-05-25T12:34:00.000-04:00

Sing, Tarry O'Day
Sing, autumn to May . . .

2003-05-25T12:27:00.000-04:00

Something needs to be cleared up right now. The longer it stays like this, the more life gets screwed up, as I am learning every single day.

I'm not dating anyone.

Anyone meaning anyone. Paul and I broke up on the first day of school (a decision of which I have not been proud most of the time), Melly and I may flirt and tease and grope each other but it means nothing, Meg--well, I really have no idea as to what's going on in her direction but it's not a relationship, to be sure, Bryan has Leigh, and Nick and Malex are dear friends but nothing more.

It's sickening to hear the assumptions thrown around. I wanted to enjoy being single. Since sixth grade, I've been in one relationship a year (well, if by relationship one means "ooh! we sit next to each other on the bus and people recognize us correctly as boyfriend and girlfriend and things are deeper than friendship and really awkward!"), until now. The experience has been very different from anything I've ever known, and figuring out my sexual orientation in the middle of it didn't help any. I've been battling depression the whole time, going off at my parents when I get stressed out, been distant and miserable and dark. I don't know where I'm going. But if nothing else, I'm not going there with anyone right now, thank you very much. Maybe Melly and I brought it on ourselves, but I hope we can take it off before the twistedness gets worse. Please don't make this any harder than it is by seeing something that just isn't there.

2003-05-24T20:47:00.000-04:00

I'm physically and emotionally exhausted.

If I wasn't out before, I guess I am now. Considering I didn't dance with anyone male until halfway through the night (thank you, Malex--homecoming was happy, wasn't it?), and considering the number of people who came up and asked about Melly and I (not nec. if we were dating, just if we had come to prom together), there's little chance that anyone didn't pick up on it.

Prepping at Alex's was cool ("Hey! You're wearing a pink dress and you don't look like a bottle of pepto-bismol!"), dinner was yummy, prom was . . . well, interesting.

A lot of things happened and were said that perhaps were better left unknown, and a lot remains to be said and dealt with. After the sugar-high euphoria settled and I managed to wake up this afternoon, one of my first thoughts was a deep desire to roll over, go back to sleep, pretend it was all just a dream, and return to the night to do it again differently. Melly, I'm sorry. Maybe it would have been better if we hadn't gone together, like you said earlier. I am too clingy and too much of a doormat when it comes to these things. Leigh, I'm sorry for stealing your date for Lady in Red and most of postprom. Jill, congratulate me on not trying to steal your date (the dance was, in fact, NickK's idea, and I would have been more than happy dancing with you instead).

Enjoyable as the dancing was (heh . . . either Barky was really ticked off when NickK got him to dance with me or he really truly has no sense of rhythm or dancing ability whatsoever), postprom was at least three times more so. Food! Sugar! Karaoke (Love Shack and Can't Buy Me Love and Stayin' Alive (Bryan can sing!) and American Pie!)! Sumo wrestling and blackmail pictures! Moonbounce! Meandering! Until the inevitable crash came, of course, when we all (except Lily . . . does she ever stop talking?) dozed off in the back room.

So it's over. So very very different from last year in every way possible. But good enough for me, on the whole.

2003-05-22T23:24:00.000-04:00

Prom! Tomorrow! Excitement abounds! Nails all painted and pretty, hair app't set, dress airing out, "date" lovely, plans straightened out, woo!

EE 1st rough draft done (3912 words), oral tomorrow, psychology exam long done (so easy!)--besides world lit and finals and tok IA, what else, really, is left? Almost a senior . . . never thought I'd get this far.

2003-05-17T15:11:00.000-04:00

So last night was coffeehouse. I think Winter's Tale went pretty well--certainly felt very confident about my performance, thrilled at the strength of everyone else's--and the poetry was very nice and the singing was fabuloso (yay Resonance and Tara and Lara and Jane!) and the people were wonderful. So good to see Paul again, even if Jonathan still thinks and says bad things about us and coffeehouse last year. Hope he didn't feel too left out . . . I tried, believe me, dear. But there is no high like three cups of coffee, Jane's "Eruption," and dancing like a fool backstage at 10:45 at night following an unbelievably long week. Wheeeee!'

Alas, hell week--THE hell week--is fast approaching, and even with a lack of mornings I am dreading having to go through it. With IB Psych Tuesday and Wednesday, Physics test Thursday, and EVERYTHING due Friday (with the exception of world lit, due the following tuesday), I am cowering in the corner trying to stop the onslaught of time. Should probably get back to work soon.

In other news, I am a member of the governing quadumvirate of Shakespeare Club for next year, running the club itself with Tara. Yay.

2003-05-15T21:07:00.000-04:00

Ever had one of those days when you get a really good song stuck in your head and it just brightens your whole day?
The whole Thoroughly Modern Millie soundtrack. Yeah.
Today was awesome. Short school day, Peerless visit (saying goodbye to my boss--leaving to go to a map and education based job tomorrow. Ah, the summer . . . ), librarification, lunch in James Madison park (anyone who knows where it is might get a prize, considering I spent a full summer mapping the city and didn't know until today), Shakespeare, and slacking. w00t.
I hope Melly-chica doesn't have another day like she had for a very long time. Luv ya, babe.

On 4/29 I posted four things I wanted desperately. The update:
1: Mads list to be posted (maybe) next week. *bites nails*
2: Folger notification end of next week. *bites nails* WHY did I say that Constance was from Henry VI instead of King John during the interview? Stupid confusion with Margaret . . .
3: Answers? Hah. Seems like I'm getting closer, but I can never tell. Confusion grows every day.
4: The last, unnamed: not in a million years. Just look at the dynamic. Either et me catch you always looking at me or shun me completely if you won't talk to me; you can't have it both ways.

YOU WILL ALL COME TO COFFEEHOUSE TOMORROW. Winter's Tale at 8 sharp. Be there.

Confidential to KK, if I can't find a computer tomorrow: Happy birthday, Iso!

2003-05-13T21:15:00.000-04:00

Yay no more APs this year!

English was easy but odd, French was rather nasty and odd, Psych was middling insane and odd but I blew the essays away. Especially number 2. Woo.

IB French: First IB exam. Ever. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO EASY! I wanted to take it again when I finished.

Folger interview: Jeremy Erlich is such a nice guy. Really down to earth, understanding, knows his stuff. I was more nervous about talking to him than I was about anything else today. I think it went well. I hope it went well. It's out of my hands now.

2003-05-12T21:38:00.000-04:00

Today I turned in my drama board application and voted.
Tomorrow I take my first IB exam, my fourth AP, and have my interview for the Folger fellowship.
Wednesday we pick up the first round of national merit scholarship information.
Friday is Shakespeare Club elections and coffeehouse.
Sometime this week (one hopes) Mr. Frezzo will (maybe) be (possibly) posting the Mads list.

My future in a week. Oy. Scared.

2003-05-08T23:47:00.000-04:00

So, little girl, what did you do tonight?

Oh, nothing, just . . .

Started writing EE
400 words of World Lit (Yeah Duerrenmatt! Woo!)
Read entire AP psych prep book thingydoo and took practice test #2
French exercises d'ensemble
Almost finished Precal Portfolio
Almost finished conix packet

And what did you forget?

Erm . . .
2 crazy physics problems (10 and 48? Anyone? Bueller?)
Call Nick to ask about elections (Dude! Melly! CHILL!)
Psych final project
Clean room
Invisible Man Oral
Palmer

Productive my derriere. So much more I could have done . . .

It's May. It's junior year. We know what that means--academic masochists unite!

Paul called this afternoon. The clock said 5:23. I spazzed.

2003-04-29T21:59:00.000-04:00

So yeah. Dolly was amazing. Incredible experience. Bittersweet closing night.

Now lost in jealousy, rage, exhaustion, nervousness again, but it was wonderful.

Mads audition again (part 3?) tomorrow. Sebben, crudele--never sung it for anyone save Mrs. Kaplon before, very scared and worried. I've discovered over the last few days that the few things I want I want very, very badly. Mads, Folger fellowship, answers, and of course the fourth which I have lost now but for which I retain the desire.

Trying to convince parents to let me go to faux senior banquet and see KK in Into the Woods on Friday night, with SATIIs in the middle. Look, if I could pull off that kind of score on the real SAT the morning after prom, what should coming home at 10:30 and promptly going to bed do? Better than midnight.

Wish me luck, mes chers. I'm off.

2003-04-22T22:40:00.000-04:00

English journals now done. CNQ studying must be started and finished (soooooooo many names!). EE needs a lot more noting for advisor meeting tomorrow. Physics and math must be studied due to the really late rehearsal on thursday. NHS needs poster but can't find info. Must figure out how to get through French and precal without looking over one shoulder.

2003-04-22T22:35:00.000-04:00

And we laughed at the world
They can have their diamonds
And we'll have our pearls . . .

2003-04-22T18:54:00.000-04:00

over the next few hours/days this is likely to be home to many lyrics. bear with me.

before that, this poem was in my inbox today.

"less time" by Andre Breton

Less time than it takes to say it, less tears than it takes
to die; I've taken account of everything, there you have it.
I've made a census of the stones, they are as numerous as my
fingers and some others; I've distributed some pamphlets to
the plants, but not all were willing to accept them. I've
kept company with music for a second only and now I no
longer know what to think of suicide, for if I ever want to
part from myself, the exit is on this side and, I add
mischievously, the entrance, the re-entrance is on the
other. You see what you still have to do. Hours, grief, I
don't keep a reasonable account of them; I'm alone, I look
out of the window; there is no passerby, or rather no one
passes (underline passes). You don't know this man? It's Mr.
Same. May I introduce Madam Madam? And their children. Then
I turn back on my steps, my steps turn back too, but I don't
know exactly what they turn back on. I consult a schedule;
the names of the towns have been replaced by the names of
people who have been quite close to me. Shall I go to A,
return to B, change at X? Yes, of course I'll change at X.
Provided I don't miss the connection with boredom! There we
are: boredom, beautiful parallels, ah! how beautiful the
parallels are under God's perpendicular.

As was this link that made me smile and made me feel loved and might do well by you. Dan McCartney's in France. He hasn't talked to me in several months. The fact that he sent it today is an uncanny coincidence.

2003-04-22T18:25:00.000-04:00

too weak to post.

he turned me down.

2003-04-21T23:56:00.000-04:00

Just finished my Folger Fellowship application.

*crosses fingers and prays*

Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease . . .

2003-04-20T19:31:00.000-04:00

Some bastard painted a swastika on the bike path down by the pond.
Passover's supposed to be a time when we celebrate our freedom and ability to enjoy life as full citizens of the world and not as slaves to a taskmaster. But there is always the bondage of someone else's hate.
They found it on Wednesday evening. How bitter, to toast your own freedom over four cups of wine while a block away freedom has already vanished.

2003-04-19T13:11:00.000-04:00

Heehee!!

You are Skids! The cute, naive, silly and huggable
boy from the gang. you might not know it but
many people looks at you and licks their lips.
you're YUMMY! you are in tune with your inner
child. okay, tuned is understatement, your
inner child has possesed you. You have a thing
for play-doh, watercolors and coloring books,
but that naive look you have hides a wise guy.
Sex? man that's a secret, are you bi, straight
or gay? who cares, everybody wants you!

Which BoyMeetsBoy character are you
brought to you by Quizilla

2003-04-18T23:55:00.000-04:00

Chicago's coming to the Nissan Pavillion! And America is opening for them! And they're giving away free tickets!
But by the second note of "Ventura Highway," the phone line was already busy. Waaah.

2003-04-18T22:20:00.000-04:00

Right, yeah, Passover.
First night spent on the road. Chicken Whopper Jr.s for mom and I, Whopper (no onions) for Dad at a rest stop somewhere on the MD-DE border about half an hour before sundown. Three stars in the sky (or so we figured): broke out the matzah and macaroons. I missed the usual first seder festivities, the company, the food, the singing . . . it loses a lot when instead you're watching The Princess Bride on a laptop and trying not to get crumbs in the keys instead.
Last night, having finally realized the depth of the situation in our lovely soggy basement, my mother came very close to having a nervous breakdown. My father and brother had to go get the car washed, etc., leaving me alone with a can of gefilte fish and a precooked chicken from Magruder's. From this, I made seder. OK, fine, so I fudged it a little (celery isn't exactly parsley, and a chicken bone isn't the same as one from the "pascal lamb," and applesauce with nuts isn't quite haroses), and had to call in a few favors (our haggadot, the prayer, etc. books we use during the seder, were in the cabinets behind the boxes and bookshelves that got moved in the aftermath of the flood, so I had to call around to find a few extras), and somehow managed to slice off the entire top layer of skin from the top of my middle toe in the process, but it was a lovely evening--different, but lovely.
Oh, and Kosher l'Pesach brownies are really good. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Good luck with the fish, Megalyn.

2003-04-18T21:53:00.000-04:00

So. On the prom front:
Dress: Check! ("Doesn't she look pretty in pink?")
Shoes: Check! (Dress is long enough to be worn over navy blue shoes from last year without getting weird looks)
Date: I'll get back to you on Monday. "I'll think about it" isn't a suitable answer, ya bum! Better get the backup and backup-backup on standby . . . affirmatives don't look too promising.
Dinner: Groupness, perhaps? Ah, we have a month. Time enough for planning.
Postprom: Groupness again? I can actually go this year. (no more blasted SATs)

2003-04-17T13:12:00.000-04:00

Erm . . . well, it wasn't quite a week . . .
Princeton=absolutely amazing. *salivates*
En route from NJ to CT, the phone rings. It's our neighbor across the street, calling to tell us that water is gushing out of one of the basement window wells and the basement is flooded out.
Suffice it to say that Yale and Brown got squished into Tuesday and yesterday was spent driving home. All day. As in, 11:15 in the morning until after midnight (traffic around NYC was disgusting. Even at 1:30 in the afternoon). We no longer have carpet in the basement. My parents, who had been staying down there, are displaced and not happy about it. Kitcat is miserable. But we saw the schools, and got away for a while, and watched the sun set in Newport.
Now to the English journals.

2003-04-12T19:09:00.000-04:00

Yesterday: Stupidest movie ever (Anger Management . . . but was a good way to wind out the time before Spring Break), eating ice cream in the cold (Chocolate Fudge Brownie! In low-fat yogurt form, of course, but still), party (Testostertones! And dancing! And singing at the top of my lungs! And no men (Ben Ucar doesn't count)!), driving back on Darnestown Road (wet, dark, one lane at a certain point and with jersey barriers and a sticking-out curb on either side), packing.

Today: Sleeping in, more packing, Palmer, long long long bike ride around Rockville down streets I'd only seen on 1950s maps and in my summertime haunts.

Tomorrow: Driving to Princeton. Yale on Tuesday, Brown Wednesday.

Everything's all bright and shiny and happy. Gotta love those endorphins.
Have a wonderful break, mes chers. Back in a week.

Will have cell phone with me--call home tonight if you want number. By some odd chance.

2003-04-10T22:02:00.000-04:00

I don't think that's what Andrew meant when he told me back in the fall that I had to figure out who I am. But hey, if that's where it got me, it's one step closer to full knowledge. And for now, in this vale of tears and fog, it's good enough for me.

2003-04-10T21:55:00.000-04:00

Would have been a year on Tuesday. Instead, was angsting myself and scratching my hands to bloodiness and writing EE outline and being up long past midnight. Then next day was to have been day of silence. I applaud Meg for her doing it, even without the rest of us. Will be participating with all of TAFU at end of April.

In case you hadn't figured it out by now . . . *opens closet door and slams it shut behind her, forever*

2003-04-10T21:52:00.000-04:00

I'm back. Don't know why.

Dolly got a lot more enjoyable as we got closer. Shows last weekend were great. Can't say so much for today, but it was the matinee (not that it's any kind of excuse). Stars and chorus and crews and the lovely Ranwa have been splendifferous.

Tomorrow is the last day before spring break. I doubt that this one will be as freeing as the last. Then again, I'm not coming home to any really tought decisions, no relationships whose fates lie in my hand. Yet. We'll see what happens tomorrow. Movie then party with food and transportation in the middle, then three colleges. Seder at the Brown Hillel. Never been away from home for first seder.

JJ angsty. Pauvre bebe. He's getting teased for his "brain power" and got in trouble with a crossing guard in the middle of applying for officership. I wish I could just hold him and make him stop crying and tell him everything is all right, but that would make me a horrible hypocrite and a liar. I want this world safe for my brother, if not for myself.

2003-03-09T22:17:00.000-05:00

So after the checking-out at the doctor's office (which did, in fact, involve the drawing of blood, not just preliminaries as expected) we had a talk. Two nights ago my parents surprised me with a gym membership so I can go pound away the stress instead of letting it eat me up even more than it has been. And what do you know? Until I got to the concert tonight, it worked. And then I snapped again. Singing is no fun when you're depressed. Especially when it's supposed to be a release. Oh well.

Ari's Mom and hanging out with Taraita and Kevin and Malex and Boedeckah were good. Food was yummy. Other singers were wondifferous.

And now, to bed. Early. Lab still undone and Bismarck unread. Shhhh. I'm tired.

2003-03-08T17:17:00.000-05:00

Saw Sims after rehearsal today. Made me happy. Last year still sparkles in my memories. This year . . . this year I couldn't have seen coming.

2003-03-05T19:50:00.000-05:00

So they're taking me in to check me out tomorrow. Doctor's app't at lunch, preliminary tests before bloodwork. Missing all of physics and half of english and psych. . . . yeah.

i guess my feet know where they want me to go
walking on a country road

2003-03-05T19:47:00.000-05:00

Hmm. That's very strange. I was positive I deleted that post . . .

2003-03-04T21:49:00.000-05:00

"It's like a corsage--the day after the dance."

2003-03-03T15:24:00.000-05:00

Did I say "verge of tears"? Ha.
The fact that there is no longer a verge is why I'm skipping rehearsal today. As anyone who has had any contact with me over the last fifteen or so hours knows, this has been a day from hell. Yeah, it's been a day of hell for most of us. And nervous breakdowns in math classes, not knowing whether you're laughing or crying, having all your emotions manifested as horrible, bitter, physical pain . . . ungood. Off to bed with me. Now.

2003-02-25T19:46:00.000-05:00

Well. That was a day. So was yesterday.
Shockingly enough didn't fail Palmer, even with only about 10-20 minutes of studying in total.
IA is in. Gone. Forever. *cheers*
Mads audition, part II, tomorrow. We'll see.
It's Ac definitely rocked today. Not so cool as rehearsal would have been, but wondifferous nonetheless.
Voter information card came in the mail today. In a year and a half I get to exercise yet another of my constitutional rights.
AMC-12 tomorrow. Missing history and english to go. Two periods for 25 questions? Must be quite a test . . .

Watch me hover on the verge of tears for the next several days after second period. Oradour n'a plus de femmes . . .

2003-02-23T15:38:00.000-05:00

So, if everything due over the last week is, in fact, due tomorrow, I have:
17 hours until the French test (worksheet done!)
~17.75 hours until Ch 11 Palmer (notes done!)
20 hours until Equilibrium lab due (done!)
~20.75 hours until Psych IA due (done. needs much revising and incorporation of another study)
21.5 hours until Mads audition (gaaaaaaah!) (yes, I'm skipping out of precal to do it)

Mrow.
Last night was awesome. However, verrrrry little sleep and verrrrry nasty allergies and a full morning with my sixth graders was not so awesome. Yayfor naps and Benadryl.

2003-02-20T22:31:00.000-05:00

IA=done. Almost. Needs lotsa revision, three more appendicies. But it's getting there.

2003-02-20T22:30:00.000-05:00

Mon dieu . . . Blog*spot said my blog had poofed. Please work . . .

2003-02-18T15:57:00.000-05:00

"Schools & Offices Still Closed Wed., Feb. 19"

*cheers*
Time to close the Palmer, shut the IA books, and go cook more muffins. Yeah, I've been procrastinating in front of an oven. Malex, you've inspired me.

2003-02-15T17:49:00.000-05:00

Wow. Wowwowwow. That turned out so much better than I ever could have imagined. I'm reeling, giggling, so happy that everything's going to be all right. Thank you, Paulibus. Best of luck to you.

2003-02-15T15:43:00.000-05:00

Seeing one's brother with more cleavage than one is not a good thing.

Two nerf footballs, very strategically placed. I wonder about this kid.

2003-02-15T11:10:00.000-05:00

So.
Here we are, a year later.
How could we have seen this far?

Songs of the summer, so beautiful and sweet, once paeons to the gods of happiness, now bringers of nostalgia and cathartic sobbing.
A Song for You~~The Carpenters, quoted here more than any other song.
Anywhere like Heaven~~James Taylor
Kathy's Song~~Simon and Garfunkel
Where do I go from here?~~The Carpenters again.
Photographs and Memories~~Jim Croce, the only song capable of making me cry after the first three notes.
We sure had a good time when we started way back when, and for that, I will be forever in your debt. It was wonderful being your love. Will you now let me be your friend?

Happy belated Valentine's Day, everyone. I promise an end to the lovelorn melancholia soon. This week has been hard on the ol' heart.

2003-02-13T19:54:00.000-05:00

. . . or maybe I just want to curl up and cry.

2003-02-13T19:53:00.000-05:00

I want to live again. And love again. And feel again. Please.

2003-02-13T19:52:00.000-05:00

About to enter hearts-and-flowers day filled with sense of impending doom. Not even about whole "national-security" thing. Too much thinking. Frightened of something. Maybe just living. Maybe just knowing it's almost been a year. Maybe knowing we can't change the past and we're hurtling towards the future too fast too fast too fast too fast can't even stop to think and when you do it just makes it worse. Just make it all go away . . . but that's impossible. Can't go back, can't start anew. Forgive me, but it would be folly to try.

2003-02-07T22:54:00.000-05:00

And so the IA begins.

2003-02-07T20:16:00.000-05:00

We tried to talk it over but the words got in the way
We're lost inside this lonely game we play

2003-02-07T20:15:00.000-05:00

Are we really happy in this lonely game we play?
Looking for the right words to say
Searching but not finding, understanding anyway
We're lost in this masquerade

2003-02-07T20:13:00.000-05:00

Hello again, blog.

I wasn't going to post again until V-day, but things changed.

Let me be the first to tell you that you're not the only one dying inside tonight. And the music (The Carpenters, Solitaire and Where do I go from here?) really isn't helping things. But I can't. I can't. And I'm sorry.