In addition to joining the Y, my restless energy has wrought a few changes and additions to the Links pages and the Projects page. I have split the Links section up: the index page is for featured links of the month... namely crap that comes to me over hubba, via email, etc.; the Biographic and Permanent page is stuff that used to be on the index page, links to Lowell House and AA and other crap I like a whole lot; the Archives page is the archive of the index page, and right now just has a bunch of old stuff I think I once put in the Featured Section. Old skool. In the Projects section I added two lists: one of books I have read since school ended, another that is basically my Netflix rental history. In case anyone cares or wants to discuss or wants to laugh at my taste or ignorance or wants to do me because I am so cool. Who knows what may come of these things. I like lists.

My phone headset and my tiara are not compatible and need to occupy the same space.

The snobbish elitism of Harvard students never ceases to amaze me.

I'm feeling on the upswing, which is great. No thanks to anyone else, though... you know, I try to communicate instead of bottling things up and spewing them out later, and it's like talking to a brick wall. Why do I bother when the only time I can get an ear is by acting hysterical?

The Dixie Chicks version of Landslide eats poo.

I am now a member of the YMCA at Somerville. How is this sensible, given the following?: 1) I could have spit on the MAC from my room last year, and yet I never set foot in the place; 2) I could have joined the health club near work for somewhat more and chose not to do so. To this criticism, I say a few things: 1) the MAC was always always always PACKED TO THE GILLS, and it was notorious for difficulty in finding a bike or elliptical; 2) both the MAC and FitCorp (since it's surrounded by medical folks) are full of people who don't need to be there, ie, people who already look fucking great and skinny and perfect. Like my coworkers, who are great people, but exactly the type of folks I mean. The Somerville Y, however, is not only very uncrowded, but it's also full of dumpy-ass looking people like me. It is, in a word, perfect. I had walked by there on a couple of occasions, noting that it seemed comfortably populated. So today, after yesterday's internet despair of telling me I'm fat and will soon have diabetes and heart disease and a life of lonely fatness, I decided to visit the Y. So I got a little tour and joined up on the Women's Health Center package, which means I have the run of the pool and gym and such AND I can use this little exercise room and whirlpool and sauna that is only for the ladies. Only the really dumpy-ass chicks care about that, because all the skinny ones want the bigger machine room on the other plan, so I'm set! And the whirlpool... I just wanted to jump right in, and it was totally empty. So, I think now I will just live at the Y when I have nothing to do, which seems to be pretty damn often these days. Like Saturday, for which I have no plans--now I can go to the Y and work out and swim and sit in the whirlpool and the steam room and leave to get a drink from the Lil Peach across the street and come back for more. It will rule.

I also have fond and fuzzy memories of the Y in Albuquerque. That is the place where I did not ever learn to swim, but I sure did enjoy playing in the water. Even the time they dumped me off the deep end to try to induce swimming I recall as more exciting (especially when I was pitied for getting water up my nose and flipping out) than traumatizing. My sister did learn to swim there, and also did gymnastics. I recall some desire to do karate, but I can't decide if it didn't happen because a) I eventually lost interest in the idea; b) swimming was more essential, even if I failed at it; or c) my mom didn't want me to get kicked in the head. Oh, or d) I never really told my mom I wanted to do karate and just think I did. Anyway, the Y is just one of those great non-glamourous old-school institutions that I dig.

On the note my mother will surely bring up, yes I had thought about getting an exercise bike for my room, but I'm not sure how much noise such a thing would make for my poor neighbors below, even if it were on the rug. I seem to recall such things being illegal to have at Harvard for that very reason. Pluswhich, I'm not sure it wouldn't become another thing to hang clothes on. Plus, THE WHIRLPOOL.

I am also now a public library cardholders for all libraries in the general area. This is very exciting, even though I have no real use for a general library at the moment given my vast collection of unread books. But there is a bit of an audiovisual collection there, which is fun, and it's just good to have a library card. Especially since the library is right there.

I am going to Salem tomorrow. I have put together my outfit... nothing fancy, but it turns out to be some sort of princessy thing, since I have the tiara and the cape (which, incidentally I bought in Salem at an amazing price in a vintage clothing store). I also had bought this blue faux-velvet shirt which goes well. I have also packed up a shitload of makeup. I am tempted just to wear it all to work, but I think I will be a weenie and just bring it all for later changing.

So I've become the computer guru of the group. Last week the boss of the group needed some work done on his powerpoint presentation for this big conference. It was all at the last minute, of course. I was on call to make any changes that needed to be done if this other woman couldn't make it in to do them. Well, she made it in, and so I didn't really have to do anything. But apparently I got lots of credit for helping out. Yay credit for doing nothing!

Jenn is crazy! She is voluntarily going to the game this weekend! She must have amnesia because last time was SO COLD. It's supposed to snow this weekend. JENN YOU ARE CRAZY.

So, I was trying to write about my geek dilemma, but I got all hung up on trying to explain the geek details to non-geeks. But fuck you non-geeks, google the terms you don't get. So, all of a sudden, like in the last week or so, I am being fingered a lot more than before. And it's not any of the usual suspects, as far as I can tell. But the times line up uncannily, and so I have an unusual suspect. I just don't have a motivation figured out.

Man, the internet can be a source of good information OR OF DESPAIR. Today, despair.

I feel like such crap.

Matt says the weather is unpredictable in October. So far it's been pretty predictable to me: rain on Wednesday, rain on Saturday.

Ah, morning, when I can get the good end of Standard Time.

So, Matt eventually saved me from my isolated hell, picking me up for World Series watching. Too bad it didn't end up being a better game in the end, but it was entertaining. Especially with Matt falling asleep the whole time.

Wah... I just discovered that a change I made to the first questionnaire I did *not* make to the second, and so when I scanned all gajillion surveys that came in, they all popped up with big honkin' errors in the comparison program. Raaaaaaar. Now I might have to rescan everything... though maybe not. Arg, brain hurts too much to deal, must go back to mindless mailing.

I wish I hadn't totally squandered the time change sleep advantage. I realized sometime yesterday that I went to be pretty late Saturday night and didn't sleep that late Sunday morning, even with the switch. And then last night I went to bed *way* too late, thanks to the World Series and then goofing off on the internet and emailing with Lorraine and prognosticating to myself. I have required far too much coffee today.

Okay, so Storey is reading my mind... I was just about to make meta comments about web journals (I had a direct reason... a webpage about why web journals sucked was brought to my attention, and I had disagreements), but then Storey said them better than I can.

I've decided I hate my glasses. I think this is just a function of having them for a while and being tired of them. The real solution is to stop being so damn lazy and just wear my contacts, but since when has a solution ever worked that involved my ceasing laziness? But I need to figure out if I can find glasses that I will like better before going through the whole hassle of making appointments and such... though I do have eye insurance so I might as well use it. I just wish I could find that magical glasses expert who will look at my face and plop on the perfect pair.

Man, day one of standard time and I am already depressed about it. I left work about a quarter to five and stood in the cold and dark waiting for the bus FOREVER. All the while panicking because it was getting dark and then reminding myself THAT IT WAS ONLY FIVE. Yarg. Once it hits evening proper, however, it feels okay again.

Though I don't understand how I feel like, wow, nine o' clock *already*? It's supposed to feel even later! I'm all screwed up.

There is no exciting bedding out there, I've decided. It's all floral or solid or fugly. I mean, I'm not looking all that seriously at it right now, but it might be nice to have a full bed set that fits my bed, instead of just sheets and all my random old blankets and twin size comforter and such. In case I ever want to *make* the bed. I want shiny and pretty and fun. Like, Hot Topic, but for my bed.

Heather crystallized the very problem: when a hybrid state exists for too long, pretty soon the purer extremes lose any feel of reality. They become products of daydreams only, but when you try to imagine what such a state would *truly* be like, it seems untenable. But the hybrid state is unstable... so what happens when the stable states seem untenable? And then what happens when reality starts pushing the issue?

I feel watched sometimes.

My sister's AIM profile is always hysterical.

So, when did you become a 14-year-old girl?

Oh boy.

Motivation, where are you? I have been sitting around the house today reading, instead of doing anything productive, because nothing *needs* to get done, it would just be nice. The house has been nice, though, because it's lovely outside and I opened my door and all the blinds on all the windows making my room sunny and breezy. I'm reading On the Road since I only got halfway through it over a year ago, and now I see why. It's sort of tedious.

I really just want to sit around and watch TV, but I have no TV, and all my friends with TVs are not currently home, and I have no desire to set foot in the Band Room as much as I can possibly help it. I watched all the movies I had. Bleh.

I slept for many hours, and then today I watched Aliens and have called my sister and have done nothing else. Maybe I'll clean my room. I have no plans for tonight again.

Rain doesn't help with thtat either.

I would like to eat dinner, but the kitchen is still such a fucking mess from last night that I can't even deal with it. L did do a bunch of dishes last night, but there is still much left to be done before it is satisfactory.

Vertigo: whoa.

Urgh, I realize that being able to bitchslap dumb people is maybe the only way to make the list tolerable. If I'm going to withhold from posting, I may have to unsubscribe.

Hrm. I have finished with ways to entertain myself, except for reading. But I may be too sleepy for reading. But I'm too awake for sleeping. Hrm.

I love it when people expose themselves for exactly what you know them to be. Muahahaha!

I am also amused when people CLEARLY DON'T REALIZE WHO THEY'RE TALKING TO. Don't fuck with people who will wreck your stupid ass and thwart your plans. Oh, and thwarting will be in the house, I tell you. And I never forget anything, so I'll be ready to keep thwarting in a year or two years or seventy.

I enjoy debate, but some people would rather live in their own little bubbles and will just tell you to shut up rather than engage you intelligently.

So far this weekend looks like it will be a barrel of suck.

Lisa R. had people over, and I had no plans, so I camped out in my room and watched the Exorcist and pooed myself. I was actually way more freaked out by the medical tests than by the demon possession stuff... I bet they throw that in there to get people like me. I guess I could have made it known that I was home and been social, but I didn't feel like hanging around with people I didn't know. But after everyone left and the movie was over, I got some phat eats out of the deal, which is great because I had beer and nachos for dinner. Now I am full (doesn't take much this late), and I feel much better.

Googlism! Googlism is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Happy Birthday, Mommy!

Bleargh, I feel shitty today. Did I remember to make sure I had cold meds in my purse? No. Did I have cold meds in my purse? No. So, I'm groggy and foggy and feel like my head is a balloon. I wish I could be at home with someone making me soup.

Last night's dream featured some sort of high school reunion. Many random-ass people cameoed, but the person I actually conversed with in the dream? Connor fucking Gilman! Pretty amusing. Whenever I think of him (which is not often, hence my surprise at the dream), I remember being in a classroom in the 7th grade building for like study hall or something, and him just say gross things to try and piss off the girls. What a kid.

Who do I have to blame for inducing a high school dream? Looking at you, boy.

Man, I will never understand why people think they are allowed to have fun on the Study Bus. I blame this whole idea on JPM. I don't care if it's naughty fun or nerd fun, it ought to be on the Raunch Bus. The Study Bus should be like a tomb, unless there had to be cuts made for the Raunch Bus.

I shouldn't get so worked up about stupid things, but I get so mad about logical inconsistency. Usually because there is some stupid prejudice operating to make the logic fail in the first place. In the above situation, for instance, the people who want to ride the study bus and not study are often these snotty people who think they will be tainted by riding the raunch bus, so they instead want to ruin the study bus. If they would just get over themselves, they could see the inherent logic behind having two busses be very distinct and well-defined. But their biases cloud everything. This crap also happened in every lowell-open argument in which I ever got involved. I could really care less about the opera, but I couldn't stand it when someone would say something like, opera haters are just selfish!, totally dismissing that those people were trying to think about how the house could be better because they were so wrapped up in the notion of Tradition Will Forever Go On. LOGIC. It's all of our friend.

I really want some ice cream from Christina's. Rather, I would really like to hang out with someone by going to Christina's and eating ice cream. If I weren't so lame, I would find someone to do this with.

CLK rawks my world with her badassness.

I think I am attracted to the more difficult option, the one people shy away from because it's too hard or too uncomfortable to make. I mean, I try not to choose more difficult just because it's more difficult, but only if it really makes more sense. But to me, the difficulty is more attractive. This is more just meta rambling about my argumentation style based on the abve bus thing... I suspect that the busses have less to do with studying versus raunching and more to do with clique-ishness. The solution I propose, making the busses what they are supposed to be based somewhat on their names (study for studying, raunch for fun) is hard in that people have to break up their little cliques. Why would I never ride the study bus, even if I was just sleeping? My friends were on the Raunch Bus. Well, is that a good reason? Maybe, but my sleeping ass wasn't contributing to the fun of the Raunch Bus. Likewise, there are people on the Study Bus who have no interest in studying, but because their friends are on the Study Bus they want to be there too. Good reason? Maybe, but they are ruining the studying for others quite possibly. Ultimately it might be more fulfilling for people to break out of their little groups and go where they should go and meet new people. One of my fondest Raunch Bus memories was sitting up front and chatting with Rob Foy, someone I just didn't know very well but who was up front because he needed to chill, like me. And that was fun.

Sometimes I wonder about that kid...

So, I have signed up to do NaNoWriMo, and I may actually do it. There is a bunch of stuff I have been meaning to write. No, I won't allow any of it to be read by anyone else. Though it may be on the web somewhere. Har. Isn't that a contradiction.

Beth has a phone in her office that rings exactly like the cordless we had in college that I recently passed on to Lackow. She doesn't get that many phone calls, but every time it does ring I have to kill the impulse to jump out of my chair to go get it. Especially given that the phone was so far away last year, my impulses are honed all that more.

I was thinking about sounds and sensitivity last night, thinking about doors. Whe I lived at home, I got very sensitive to the sounds of doors opening and closing, even to the point where I could hear the pressure change in the house even if the door didn't make noise. This, of course, so if I was looming around the house at night when I was supposed to be asleep I could hear my parents emerge from their room. But in college I had to grow less sensitive to door noise because, well, people in general were less sensitive to their noise and shut them far more loudly. Now my door sticks, and the only way I can close it all the way is with great force, which sounds kind of like an elephant.

I was going along just jolly ignoring the future until SOMEONE HAD TO GO AND TALK ABOUT IT this weekend. Now my brain is all haywire along that track. Yesterday on the bus I started thinking about how everyone will be leaving Boston in the next couple of years, or, at least the people I'm closest to. And how everyone will be scattered and I won't have anywhere to go where there will be lots of friends, and BLECH! Thanks a lot. I DIDN'T NEED TO GO THERE.

I watched Affliction last night. I'm always bothered by movies I think I'm supposed to like but which I don't. This was one of them. I just hated all the characters so much, couldn't relate to any of them. I have a feeling they were all supposed to be kind of hateable, but I think there was also supposed to be some sense of connection, which I just found absent. It was too disjointed, and not in a way that appealed to me.

I had a strange dream before waking up this morning. I had parked my car in this little dead end road off a bigger road (kind of like off a bridge or something... not sure). It was dark outside, and there was lots of snow on the ground. I was crouched to the ground in front of my car, so that cars going by would not notice me. My cell phone made a beeping noise, and there was a strange message on the screen, a weird sort of number. I understood this to indicate that someone in the area had some sort of special equipment which was emitting a signal, which my phone had detected. Soon a van with the lights turned off drove slowly on the road. I knew that only the mob could have such equipment, and I had to get out of there. I couldn't drive away because I was parked in the dead end, so I ran to the road and the other way from the van as it passed. I tossed my phone into a ditch because I didn't want them to track me with it.

I ran to Harvard Yard, and the building that was the most open was a dorm, kind of like Thayer, though the inside resembled an amalgam of Matthews (dark and wooden) and Weld (the layout). Once inside, I heard a phone ring and thought it was mine, but then I remembered I didn't have mine (yay dream memory!). I found a proctor and communicated what was up. Next thing I know, I am standing outside in this courtyard, and it is sunny. Nate is there, and he is calling Tom to let him know what is going on, because apparently the whole situation put him in danger. I am talking to the proctor person, when suddenly a limo pulls up. I know that it must be the mob coming to get me. Some men and a blond woman get out of the car. They want me to come with them. I'm just a big wuss and try to hide under this pool table that is suddenly present, so the woman shoots at Jennifer (who also has suddenly appeared) to show she means business. Jennifer drops, and I stand, pleading not to be shot. The woman leaves her gun on the table for a moment, fiddling with some knives to try to kill me with. I pick up the gun and try to shoot her, but the gun is jammed or empty or something terrible. There was another gun, equally functionless. I tried to go after the knives, which had ended up behind me, but she attacked me and pinned my back to them and then tried to stab my back with them and I woke up.

Dear radio, If John Mayer has any songs that are not fucking annoying, please play them instead of the two fucking annoying songs you play. Oh, and stop playing Avril.

Gwen and I used to play this game where we'd present each other with completely ridiculous hypothetical situations such as "Would you give up seeing {awesome person} forever in exchange for knowing that {awesome person} would have a long and completely happy life?" or "Would you choose to have {X awesome friend} hate you forever if you could have {Y awesome boy} as your lifelong pool boy?" or whatever. They got pretty crazy and complicated. It was pretty entertaining, but more than that, it was an easy way to gauge the nuances and magnitudes of our feelings for various people.

Also, I have been wanting to play Cutest State with the Band facebook, but all the photos haven't come in from the ID office yet.

After work I went to the Square, had dinner with Lisa and Danny, and then had coffee with Nate and caught up. Then my evening was cut suddenly short by my dear boy's inability to track his schedule, but at least I got a ride home out of it. Now the question is what to do with my evening... bleh.

... he said that sometime he would take me out to dinner, to make up for everything, because I deserved it. I knew he wouldn't remember it later, and that he'd never mention it again, but I let the thought roll around in my imagination, how nice it would be, to be taken out and not have to worry about anything and be treated and taken care of. It was a very exciting idea, at the end of a month of hell, of wallowing in aloneness, in surviving though that time on my own and taking care of myself when I most needed someone else. It's still an exciting idea, but really it's just that, just an idea, and the reality soon will be very much about the aloneness.

A week or two before that I had a completely honest moment, unfettered by rationalizations, justifications, or analyses. I had burst into tears, again, and I blurted out to the empty room, I just wish everything could have worked out. And I meant that I wished, from the very beginning, that everything had been different, that everything had been what it could have been if only... if only... and so many things I don't understand fill in the rest. But the important thing was the wish, the real truth behind my attempts to convince the world I feel otherwise.

I don't know who's annoying me more today: the Harvard Crimson or the Harvard Band.

The problem is that was pretty much what I've been wanting.

Except for the part where now I am all alone.

My big problem is that I am easily flattered and not cynical enough. I can be made to do anything, I swear.

Though, maybe if I keep telling myself that it's all for the best, I'll actually believe it by next summer.

I think I may have been inadvertantly told something moderately disturbing. But I didn't ask for details. Something that I could have misunderstood or that could have just been one of her lies or something else. Anyway, it doesn't pertain to me, so I should just not care.

But... jeez. And people wonder why I'm such an angry person.

Dean Lewis is my personal god.

Ah, Rocky. It makes me wish I had my own big muscly dude with his eyes swollen shut.

Matt was a very nice boy today and picked me up from the grocery store (which was awesome because I could buy lots of food, which I needed, and lots of things I probably would be too wussy to buy because they are heavy and carrying them up the hill is just too painful) and then helped me get my cushy chair (one of them) from the House of Card. Well, he did most of the lugging, but why would I have any male friends if not to lug shit? I also obtained this video rack that was in my room this summer, as Scott M. didn't want it after all. Yay! It makes a fabulous bookshelf, and I totally wanted it when I left. Then we watched Smallville which was cheesy and funny and full of cute men. Matt then drove me home twice, because I forgot my purse at his house the first time. Woo brainless!

So, I'm a pain to put up with, but I think I deserve a little of it. :-)

The treachery of cleaning my room... I come across some old stuff I wrote, and I discover in reading it that all this time I thought things had changed, they really haven't. *I* have changed, that's certain, except in the weak way I continue to believe and hope that our relationship will get better and go somewhere and be something good. I fall into the trap during the times we get along (like now, oh now, setting me up for a later fall, to be sure), but in the end it's always the same abandonment, the same irresponsibility, and, ultimately, the same fucking excuses, read, LIES. Fucking lies. Only my forgiving and forgetting makes things better, and how quickly I forget, only to have it all bite me in the ass again. And now I'm pissed--more pissed than I've ever been in "peacetime" before--at myself for never outgrowing this fucking friendship and for never being able to convince myself that the bad outweighs the good, and pissed at him for never fucking growing up and becoming what he should be. And again pissed at myself for thinking he could be something he'll never be.

But despite the sudden outburst, I'm sure nothing will ever come of it and I'll just keep doing what I've been doing all along.

Some Like It Hot is a totally hysterical movie. Men in drag are my absolute favorite.

I was totally productive today. I cleaned my room entirely (for the first time since I've moved in... there's even room for at least one of the pink chairs now!), hooked up the desktop and transferred all my useful files over to the laptop (now I just need to find a retirement home for the old PC), did all my laundry, and even cleaned some old junk off the porch (now I just need to light that awful fake grass thing on fire). I did not go grocery shopping, but I figure I'll just starve until tomorrow after work, when I *will* go shopping lest I be forced to eat sugar and Pam.

Heh, I forgot about the invoice I made when I was really angry and thought I would never be spoken to again. Hoo!

Tailgating yesterday was loads of fun, if not a little too much fun. It was also cold, but many beers took care of that sensation. I took a nap upon returning home and eating, and woke up with one of my favorite monster headaches, which completely took me out of commission and made me miss the party. This sucked, as I had been looking forward to getting all dolled up for the party. My body hates me. Today I did very little. I watched Taxi Driver and finished a book I'd been reading. I wish I had somewhere to go or someone to hang out with... but everyone seems to be doing their own thing today. And probably tomorrow too. I need to go grocery shopping and do laundry and clean my room; we'll see if tomorrow brings motivation for these things.

Bleh. Sometimes I hate my life. My stupid lonely hateful life.

Rar! I hate you! Just when I stop hating you you make yourself totally hateable!

I'm so tired. I slept like crap last night.

Yay!

This weekend at Jenn's was lots of fun. Jimmy had his 3rd birthday party, then Jenn and I toured wineries and sampled lots of product and then bummed around and watched TV. Sunday we went to the wings place and then to mini-golf and she kicked my ass because I can't putt up a hill to save my life.

Tonight I went with Am to this thing where she got inducted into this society of wicked smaht kids. It was pretty cool.

I'm suddenly very popular. I think I need to take advantage of my popularity and stop being a wanker. I need to get out more. But you all knew that.

Yet another day I just CAN'T WAKE UP. Doesn't help that it's getting really cloudy out. Blech. I think I need to have one of my marathon sleep sessions, but I hate going to bed early unless I'm really dying. I'm always plenty awake at night. It's the day that I hate.

Aw shit, I found out that I missed a game of I Never at the end of the party on Saturday. Oh, did I say, "aw shit"? I meant, THANK THE LORD!

Get ur game on!

I re-subscribed to lowell-open with my new account for the purpose of retrieving all my posts to it from the archives. Man, that place could be so entertaining. There were some really cool people in the house. And there were some people who needed to beaten with the logic stick all year, who were amazingly stupid, but I guess not everyone is perfect. I think my favorite threads will always be the opera thread and the energy zealots and babies thread. Sheeit, good times. I did some pretty kickin' work on the Affirmative Action thread as well, busting out a wicked house-building metaphor.

Due to my archiving, however, I have not gotten to bed at an entirely great hour. When will I ever get enough sleep!

After a phase of amiable feelings, I'm once again perpetually irritated by my coworker/sort-of supervisor. Maybe I'm just more charitable when I'm sick; if that's the case, I'd rather be uncharitable. But she just gets on my nerves.

Another thing getting on my nerves is this web page. Seriously, the web page is here to be vague and only representative of all that incites my emotions (typically rage) and not to be queried about. I'm putting a moratorium on asking me to elaborate on my web page commentary. I don't feel like doing it. I want to write whatever I want here within the bounds of sanity, so DON'T ASK.

I also can't wait for my fas account to die. Nothing useful gets forwarded from it, and someone of my acquaintance must have Klez because I keep getting random Klezzy shit. And I can't see the original headers because of the forwarding.