When did I become that girl? Woe unto my future children, woe and woe and woe.
It has been a really long year. I meant to update this diary near the end of October, but it’s gone and become November and there you have it for coulda’ woulda’ shoulda’s.
It was a year ago, come the end of October that I, for the first time ever, stayed up all night because I couldn’t sleep from fear. Tom stayed up with me, a continent and a computer away. Cheesy? Of course. Cliché metaphor, symbolic of the time in my life and the year that has passed? Would you expect less from an online diary? I should hope not.
The night after I saw Buddy Wakefield perform, up at JMU, as I was falling asleep on Jared’s couch, I wished I still wrote poetry. The problem is, I never wrote good poetry – it is hard to be catharthic when instead of emptying yourself of emotion, you simply create the emotions of “frustration” and “this is crappy” and “8th grade called, they’d like their angst back.”
You know it’s true, don’t deny.
Last night Corelyn and Mary and I made Thanksgiving Dinner. Cor really did most of the cooking, when you get down to it – but we all helped. It was our personal Thanksgiving. The ladies brought their boyfriends and we had friends over and it was a perfect little scene of “friends are the family you choose.” I feel asleep on the couch, while we watched Hook, after having eaten so much I felt sick. That is, I’ve gathered, the way holiday dinners are supposed to go.
The weather keeps going from blazing hot to freezing cold. I never know what clothes to put on in the morning.
I got a bid for APO – the co-ed service fraternity. Our pledge-pinning ceremony was today. They sing a song, the tune of which I’m positive I’ve heard in a movie about camp before…maybe Wet Hot American Summer.
Entry-vomit like this is the reason I never update anymore.