With every day that passes lately it seems as though there are more and more important things to write about. I wish I had written about every event in great detail, been able to capture my thoughts on every subject and every dry leaf that has slowed my step this month, but that alone is a full-time job. Maybe that's what a writer is, I don't know. I don't think so.With every day that passes lately it seems as though there are more and more important things to write about. I wish I had written about every event in great detail, been able to capture my thoughts on every subject and every dry leaf that has slowed my step this month, but that alone is a full-time job. Maybe that's what a writer is, I don't know. I don't think so.
Lately, I don't know how to describe what's happening. While I think it's dangerous to declare NOTHING coincidence and say that EVERYTHING is connected, I am starting to notice a strange inter-connectivity of events and feelings lately, so much that I'm starting to feel like Albert in I Heart Huckabee's- I have a bit of an existential coincidental crisis. I mean, I always see things as happening for a reason, good or bad (that isn't to say that I believe that bad things always happen and good things result from them- other than building character, I don't think good things always necessarily come from tragedy, but I do trust that there is ultimately a Hand at work in the universe and that God knows what He's doing. But yeah, the Holocaust thing, that was pretty bad...), but I don't think of most things as being specifically intertwined, especially not geared towards me (although of course we are our own martyr or superstar- every story is about us, even when we are only in the periphery of the story). However. This semester (that's how I mark my time) weird stuff has been happening, stuff that I can't help but think is all tied up somehow in a great big knot, and then little weird things have been happening that I know don't mean anything, but they tie into little knots-- and therefore I think they're meant to confirm that yes, yes it's relating to my hunch that all the big stuff is related. (see what i mean? three little things adding up to a donut does not have anything to do with my big problems, but the fact that the three unrelated things add up to something may be symbolic that my big unrelated things may add up to a big something).
Also, when I say strange I don't mean supernatural, just largely out of the ordinary for me.
I could discuss those things, but it's too exhausting right now. Some shall be included below, however...
okay. for my little posterity friend, here you are:
One day awhile ago, I went to see the Decemberists at UCLA. I went alone, as per the norm as of the past year, and they were wonderful. I got to really see UCLA in the daytime (it looks so Ivy leauge... maybe it's all the Ivy), and savor my first seated, no-opening-act concert. They were FANTASTIC-- their first set was the entirety of their new concept album, Hazards of Love, and then when they popped back out for the second set they totally engaged the audience and Colin Meloy might well be the funniest person on the planet, and they played new and old and got the audience to sing and clap and ooh. It was just great. My row was full of weird people I didn't want to be with... dancing, please stop the awkward dancing.. but still, the audience was really into it. I suppose the best bits were the start of Billy Liar (BILLY LIAR'S GOT HIS HANDS IN HIS POCKETS!- everyone went nuts), their cover of Crazy on You (their guest women singers KILLED it- amazing voices), and their last song, Sons and Daughters, which is so them and such a hopeful song. Meloy got the audience to sing "hear all the bombs fade away" as they riffed and sang away and stole into the night. That was really beautiful and lovely. I will complain that they didn't play alot of my old favorites, mainly Engine Driver from Picaresque and Summersong and July, July and mostly Architect, which would have made my life. But still. I think it was the best concert I've been to (yes, Foriegner is the best rock concert. And Hush Sound was the best for the experience. and Bob was amazing because... well, I saw Bob Dylan.) I didn't take any pictures, but that's okay. I was very happy there. Afterwards I walked to Diddy Reese to get some cookies, got a bit lost, but finally made my way back to fraternity row and found my car again. Good night.
I then had a really rough week or two. I felt really horrible and the campus felt really tense. I felt as though I was making no progress and that I have really been wasting my time, most of the time. And not in a good John Lennon way. I felt horrible and useless and crazy and so saddened by myself and my tendency to fail at what I see as "everything". I do not live up to the standards I feel I should have, and I am so disappointed. LMU went crazy for three weeks- the first, a crazy kid got racially threatening by pounding on doors and screaming about lynching and creepy stuff like that (and some girls got stalked in a car? dunno about that). the second, our homecoming saw many parties shut down and 3 kids rushed to the hospital due to ODing (though I'm pretty certain they lived). The next weekend, a fraternity kid, a senior, shot himself in the head. My room-mate, as well as a ton of other people, knew him, and the cloud that descended over the campus after that was pretty stifling. Nobody really knew how to take it.
That same week I found out that not only was my oldest friend (of 20 years) was pregnant, I later found out that she gave premature birth to a baby boy and that he was struggling for his life. He has turned out okay, he gets stronger every day.
That same week my cat, my old sweet cat got attacked by a fucking dog and died. She did die after receiving medical attention and love from my parents, so at least she didn't die huddling under some shed somewhere- I hope she died knowing that someone loved her and would have stopped her from being hurt if we could. I really loved that cat so much, I had her for 14 years, and she loved me no matter how grumpy or ugly I was. When I was so deeply depressed in 2006 I hardly ever got out of bed- literally only getting up to check the computer or to shower and brush my hair if I had received warning that someone was coming over. But my stupid cat loved me, and she'd scratch at my unsealable door until it moved enough to let her slide in, and she'd hop up on my bed and curl up in the same spot by my feet. She knew I wanted her there. She also did the weirdest thing when I'd pick her up and say hi, she'd sniff my lips and nose without touching me with her face. I'm so not a kiss-your-pet person, but it was like affection that we both understood. I loved my cat. She loved me. It's hard to come by, love is.
My mom had surgery; she had a giant benign tumor removed from her stomach, as well as a hesterectemy (if that's how you spell it); removal of the uterus. She's recovering okay, but it was very costly.
I discovered that due to a believe-it-or-not SMALL miscalculation on my part, I was overdrawn at the bank without knowing it. The small overdraft became larger as I continued to charge things, assuming I had 400 dollars in the damn account. Well, for every overdraft there's 35 dollar fine. I made several purchases. Over a weekend, I was negative more than 700 hundred dollars. I have no way of paying this off, as well as other bills to pay. Fuck.
Double-fuck: Cannot find job. Never found internship.
Triple-fuck: My student account at LMU has announced that I never got all of the loan I thought I had- thus, I owe 7,000 for this semester not to mention NEXT semester. I must pay for this semester before I can register for next semester. My last semester. I cannot pay this. I cannot find any other student loans. I have no co-signer. I need to register. If I can't, I cannot come back next semester. I will have to put off graduation. Fuck fuckity fuckstein. I really want to graduate, I really want to fly away, I really want to vanish into Europe and never ever come back to this wretched place*. I'm scared and flailing down the infinite abyss-- Zach Braff, we were once friends (actually, according to a dream I had, boyfriend and girlfriend in a very clean apartment). What happened?
The Very Good Thing that happened is to follow accordingly, as well as the Very Bad Thing.
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