April 29. I had no idea it'd been so long since my last update. I could write another list of music I bought on Wednesday in preparation for my long bus rides on Thursday and Friday, but I don't feel as if I have the energy. (It was the Civil Twilight CD, a few random songs by The Tragically Hip, a bit of Paramore, some Temper Trap, a little Keane, and, sadly, a Kesha song.)
Honestly, the past month has been crazy as hell. The missed period of April hit me last week, thankfully, or unthankfully, depending on how you look at it. I took a number of important exams and my brain was subsequently turned into mush, though I did earn some awesome Chinese and Greek food with a bunch of my mates after the exams. I've had a bunch of newspaper meetings, and my last column was head of our section. It was quite a funny article, if I do say so myself. There've been a few parties (one earlier today, for instance, until it was destroyed by the weather). I had to get my car smog-checked, hosted a GLEEkEND, sat through an awards night in which I was only mentioned thrice, distributed books, hit Disneyland hard, and then slept and slept and slept.
Seriously, I slept from 2:30 yesterday afternoon to 5:30, woke up for ten minutes, fell back asleep. Awoke at 2:34 am, continued to lie in bed for a while because there's not much to do at that hour around here, fell back asleep at about 4:40, and woke up for good about 9:32 this morning. (All in all, about 17 hours of sleep).
Still, I feel exhausted and am forbidden from sleeping because if I do it will 'throw off my pattern' or something like that. Like I care. I have a headache, my body is still trembling, and my head still spins oddly (my neck hurts like hell, too).
This is probably a boring post. I really can't tell because I'm a bit out of it, nor do I really care. I tried to write glamorous at some point today and wrote grammar instead. I don't know.
On a side note, I'm going in for a beta-job. And I've been accepted. Just waiting my first assignment now. Exciting.
I have a spectacular bruise on my right knee from tripping and doing one of those whale/worm rolls back to my feet until it looked like I hadn't fallen at all. I couldn't see the bruise through my tights, though, and thought I'd only scraped it.
I also scraped my arm diving for a volleyball at the aforementioned party today. And shoved cake frosting in some guy's face, which was entertaining for our table.
I'm not actually sure anyone reads my blog. I suppose I don't really care, either. So I can honestly just write about whatever the hell I want to, even if it makes no sense to anyone else.
One of my partners for our final project in Calc 1 left for the weekend. The project is due Monday at 9:35 am.
A lot of people have been saying hit in the face lately. One of my friends did get hit in the face Thursday night during one of those crazy parties I mentioned. Luckily, no black eye for her. And I hip-checked someone for being a bitch to me. It felt good. At this point, I'd almost been up for 24 hours, so I was exhausted and prone to a quick ignition. It was also the point at which everything was funny as hell. And watching the sky turn light was disorienting, as was coming from dark insides to bright outsides.
Waiting, waiting, waiting, too uncomfortable to sleep properly. Bought a new pillow, helped a bit, but too uncomfortable.
Home, and crash.
I want to crash again, and I just made my bed with clean sheets, but other people won't allow me to sleep. So I write and complain and just ramble on. I think the name of my blog has something to do with rambling thoughts, so this post actually fits my purpose. If I ever really had one.
I got a letter today. I need to respond. Perhaps I should be working on my own letter or even my next article for the paper instead of blogging.
John Donne the poet is especially good. I've decided this recently. 'The Broken Heart' and 'Sweetest Love, I do not Go' are my two favorites from him.
I post-it-noted all my books for August. I'm only taking 70 with me, out of all of them. Seventy seems like a bit number, but some are plays, and they're thin. Speaking of, we're acting out Cyrano de Bergerac this week. I'm expecting great things.
I've been making lists like crazy lately. What to pack, what to bring, things to do, things to not do, scheduling things on my iPod calendar so I don't lose my lists, who to send something to, people to call and the reasons why, who to expect, things that have amused me. One of my lists is three pages, with three columns per page. It's a what to bring/what's needed list. For August, when I move to the coast.
This weather is throwing me off. It's May. Last May was sweltering. Now, it's not even seventy degrees and it's pouring rain and gusting winds like a nor'easter or hurricane. In California. Which is unnatural.
The salsa from tacqueria is amazing, by the way. Went on Wednesday evening before the stupid awards night. I don't think I'll ever be able to eat pretzels and peanut M&Ms together ever again, not after this week.
I keep thinking it's Monday, though it's actually Saturday. Luckily, I'm not the only person thrown off. Many of my friends are also experiencing the after effects.
I want to write. Something serious. Or funny.
Anything, as long as it has a plot.
Sadly, I haven't been able to write anything interesting or complete since... the beginning of March.
That isn't writer's block--it's writer's wall. Or disappearance. Or loss. Or, I don't know, kidnapping.
The plot penguins and bunnies and all other plot-like creatures have bounced on my mind once, only to disappear into waving fields of tall grass and creeks and things they can easily hide amongst.
I miss them. However, I did buy my pillow recently. It's a plushie and a pillow, and a giraffe. Giraffes remind me of Hannah, the best friend I've previously written about. So it's a memento, and a useful thing. It's like a magic sleep-inducer. I've been carrying it to my couch and to bed with me recently and curling around it weirdly. It's too small to spoon properly, though, and there's nobody there to spoon me, so it must do to keep me warm and comfortable. I named it Elmo in response to another friend naming his elephant pillow Carl (my suggestion, after Marteen was dismissed for being too similar to Martin).
Names I'm thinking of:
Schuyler (or Skylar, depending on the sex)
Caelyn
Brett
Kyrie
Quentin
Nathaniel
William
Zephyr
Anthony
Emmett
Gabriel
Brandon
Kale
Last names I like:
Banagher
Delachaise
McNally
Cwen
They've ordered pizza, and I feel like throwing up. I'm still not allowed to sleep. I guess it is early. But I was awake for over 24 hours on Friday, so cut me some slack.
Cars:
*Aston Martins
*Audi
*BMWs
*Mercedes
*Saturn
*Porsche
*Mini Coopers
*Volkswagen
*Dodge
*Lexus
*Toyota
*Volvo
Ferrari
Lamborghini
Ford
GM
Love caters to a lucky few. I'm not among them at the moment. I have more unlucky stars than lucky ones.
My eyes keep closing of their own accord.
I believe I'll take a shower and disappear into my bedroom. I don't care that I'm not allowed to sleep--there are locks for a reason.
G'night, early birds and night owls.
~ hyacinth
Song: 'Science of Fear' by the Temper Trap
