merry christmas to all.

Today is Christmas.

Or technically, yesterday was. I’m starting this at sixteen minutes past midnight, all safely locked away in my mess of a bedroom while the rest of the house lies in comfortable, silent sleep. I need to be more timely in my updates.

But back to my original point. Merry Christmas to those of you that celebrate it. I had a rather enjoyable day. Started out at 8:30 with present-opening. Then my family and I made the trek down to Montgomery to celebrate with my dad’s side of the family.

What I love about my family is how huge it is. My dad is one of six kids, and so on big holidays my grandmother’s tiny little house with one bathroom is filled to capacity with lots of loud, happy, talkative relatives who always need to catch up with everyone. On Christmas it’s especially fun, because that’s when literally all 30+ of us pile into that cramped little living room with two couches to open presents and it’s just a free-for-all. My life is so structured, it’s nice to just have someone yell “1-2-3 GO” and let the room turn into a mad celebration of wrapping paper and boxes. This year we added marshmallow guns.

So I guess I need to recount what I received: an old Polaroid instant camera with film, the complete works of William Shakespeare (minus the histories, but who reads those anyway?), the complete works of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger, The Importance of Being Earnest, and the complete three seasons of one of my all-time favorite shows Slings & Arrows. Then some sweaters. Nice sweaters, too.

Reflecting on that list I realize just how many books I now own. I should’ve noticed how large of a pile they’ve made at the foot of my bed. Very sizeable indeed. I fully plan on carting all of them back to Oglethorpe, even though I’ve run out of space on my bookshelf. Oh well.

I wish the holiday feeling would last forever. Not the holiday itself, just the feeling. Makes it easier to block out the things you dread to think about.

I’m getting into vague territory. Apologies.

I just don’t want life to be so complicated, to have my relationships shaded with grey. The world would be so much easier in black and white. But instead it’s blinding technicolor. I suppose I’ll just have to put on my big girl panties and deal with it like they say.

Them again. Why can’t they solve my problems? Because they just like to sit around and dictate to everyone else.

I hate to end on such a cynical note. My thoughts tend to be cynical and sarcastic no matter how happy I may be, and right now I would consider myself very content. I had a merry Christmas. I have lovely memories of my entire family watching me breakdance in an old lady costume on the TV. I have lovely text messages from my friends I can smile about. I have the Christmas spirit to spill over into this afternoon when I celebrate with my mom’s side of the family. Decidedly more tame, but just as fun. I love Christmas.

not a creature was stirring.

I should be asleep right now. It feels strange to be up so late on Christmas Eve. Two years ago I would have been forced into bed even if I wasn’t sleepy…now my parents have stopped the whole Santa charade and have let me be.

I blame this rush of insomnia on the cookies I baked today and the hours of Jane Austen I processed. Church at noon. Pride and Prejudice. More Pride and Prejudice. Becoming Jane. Cookie-baking. Dinner-eating. Present-wrapping. Book-reading. Book-finishing. Sitting.

I did accomplish something on my rather atypical Christmas Eve. I finished the book I started way back in September, The Year of Living Biblically. Interesting stuff, but I won’t elaborate for fear it will sound zealous or something. But worth reading even if you’re not religious at all. It took me so long to finish, but I do have an excuse – I was tackling Homer and Dickens at the same time, and essays on them take precedence over reading I actually enjoy. Not that I don’t enjoy classic literature…

So what next on my to-read agenda? I guess it will depend. I’ve got some interesting reading ahead of me in my Modern Lit class next semester. I’m anticipating Don Quixote. But beyond that, I guess it will depend on the books I receive for Christmas and how long I can stay away from the bookstore. The bookstore is such a dangerous place for me, I will just grab and buy a book I think sounds interesting even if I’m simultaneously engulfed in three other ones. That’s my bad habit.

But anyways, Merry Christmas to all of you reading this. All three of you, you silent stalkers. :P

you know, they call them killer whales.

I hate avoiding things. I’m the kind of person who likes to tackle issues head-on. Yet here I find myself running away and deflecting questions. Keeping silent. Holding it in. It feels strange. I’m not sure it’s healthy. There are only so many places I can vent my frustrations to before they all come to a head, right? And then, it’s worse. That’s what they tell you.

Oh them. Them and their wisdom. I should listen to them more often.

Don’t you just hate when the good mood is ruined? That happened tonight. Another instance of people trying to pry where they are not welcome. When will they learn that when they delve too deep it only serves to shut them out more?

Enough of that. This was not meant for rants.

It’s just…I find myself afraid to face things now where I wasn’t before. Maybe that’s because my life was never messy before. It is now. That’s a strange thing for me. I’m not sure how to deal with it.

But besides all that, my most overwhelming feeling is that of boredom. Going to college in a big city makes me realize how little there is to do back here in a modestly large one.

My mood today:

I found this today as I was just perusing the internet in my boredom. I thought it  was funny, I guess. Reminded me of my failed attempt to read Naked Lunch when I was in 10th grade, I just got really confused trying to slog through it and my English teacher saw it one day on my desk and told me I was too young to read it. She was right.

She was also most likely on drugs.

Maybe I should try again, then follow up with some more beatnik literature. You know, go through a beatnik period. I tried to organize something like that this summer as I compiled a list of books I wanted to read. There got to be so many I had to separate them into categories: Southern writers, absurdist literature, etc. It seems to make more sense, to read each category and move on to the next one. But I add books to the list faster than I can read them, so I don’t know how well that would work out.

Wait. Yes I do. Not very well at all.

But Christmas is in four days, which is something to look forward to.

a product of wasted time.

I finished a journal the other day. It tends to be a monumental occasion when I finish a journal. It’s like starting a new chapter, or shedding my skin that’s been a part of me for so long. It’s like discarding an old friend after you’ve grown so close, painful. But also necessary. Like they know too much about you and you need to distance yourself.

I have complicated relationships with inanimate objects, if you can’t tell.

I could try to recall how many journals I’ve accumulated, but I lost count after I stopped labeling them. I think it just started out one day as I attempted to write my great fantasy story and then eventually grew bored with it and branched out into other writing. One day I’ll just sit and read through them all and rediscover myself as I grew up. I know my writing will have changed and matured as I did. And it will be interesting to see what I wrote about and the memories they trigger. There are just some instances where I love looking back at the past – they don’t occur very often. Not that I don’t like my past or have anything against it, I just guess I prefer the present or something similarly cliche and alliterative.

Boredom gives you more time to think. How potentially dangerous. I should be doing something productive with all this time I’m wasting, like wrapping Christmas presents, or actually buying them. I only have four days left, though technically I have until mid-January to scrounge them together.

I love how I use the word ‘scrounge.’

My immediate next thought was on on how strange it sounds in my head. Say it out loud. Now.

So forget the actual tangent I was going to go on. Thinking about it makes me feel like I am a horrible person. Which I’m not.

I hope.

Oh boredom. Darn you.

“I have a joke. A squirrel goes up to a tree and says ‘I forgot to store acorns for the winter and now I am dead.’ It’s funny because the squirrel gets dead.” I love UP, for the record. And my friends.

A Long Absence

It’s been months. I turn my computer on every day and I think that I should possibly update this blog, but then that is immediately followed by the thought to leave it until tomorrow. Now I find myself in December, without a word since September. Shame on me.

I could give the excuse that I’ve been too busy to sit down and offer up the Reader’s Digest version of my life at Oglethorpe thus far, but that would be a lie. As full as my schedule is, I have time to breathe, to take naps, to just sit in a room with my friends and just chill without the need to do something else. Occasionally, I’ll even get myself a meal. But now that I am home I have no excuses, and since my pride won’t allow me to give up on this blog, here I am. I know what my New Year’s Resolution will be.

But on to the synopsis, which could really be summed up in one word: change. I’ve changed a lot. It’s to be expected when I pack myself up and ship off to a small liberal arts college nobody has ever heard of. And generally, I like the person I’ve become. I love where I am. I love what I’m doing. I love the people I’m with. I’m lucky I found the perfect fit. It is a place where I can truly be myself and not feel like I have to suppress certain aspects of my personality to please certain people. That is truly a blessing.

When I compare my short college experience to the one I had in high school, I notice the stark difference. I notice the tepid high school friendships where I felt like I didn’t quite fit in and I tried too hard. I notice the lack of motivation I had for my schoolwork and how I buried myself in extracurriculars because that’s where I felt most comfortable. I notice how reserved I was, how quiet around most people I became because I was just so different; not that they knew. But at Oglethorpe, I not only have a close group of friends I can share everything with, but I have lots of friends from different areas which mix together. It’s one of those wonderful instances where I never have to worry about sitting alone at meal times because there is always someone to sit with. I’m actually in classes I want to be in, classes that interest me and make me want to learn and to read more. But not only can I throw myself into theatre and choir and my writing like I used to, I also am involved in a sorority, something I never thought I would do.

That was a rather general and simplified overview of my experience thus far. My brain is fuzzy from catching up on all the sleep I lost over the semester. It’s nice to sit in bed and just vegetate sometimes. I’ve been spending my day reminiscing on the past four months and learning the words to Savage Garden’s “I Want You.” Which was a success, if you were wondering.

And now, for a more specific synopsis:

Polishing the turtle. No more going to sleep earlier than midnight. Museum. Movie parties in various dorm rooms. Joining Sigma. Frat parties every weekend. UNO. “I’m hiding cigarettes in my lungs.” Singleness. Finding my group of best friends. Road ramblin’. Chalking in a park. Skip-Bo in McDonald’s. Sigma Retreat. The public debate over which SEC team should win. One-Act Play Festival. Big Sister. Halloween. Naked Shakespeare. Singers Concert. Boxer Rebellion. Initiation! Trader Joe’s. Joshua Radin with sisters and the Swedish Fish. Super Trivia @ Dave and Buster’s. Jingle Ball. Choephorii. Moon Over Buffalo road trip. Pong-along. Thanksgiving Break. Chi Phi Beddy Byes. Dead Day’s Eve. Seamen. Boar’s Head. Baking cookies at 2 in the morning. JSJ. Karaoke. Going through the McDonald’s Drive-Thru backwards. Playwriting Final. Ice Skating. French Final. Birmingham.

Most likely none of that will make sense. But remembering all of it makes me smile. It reminds me of home.