(white man in) hammersmith palais
01.15.04 @ 4:43 p.m.
I am ineffably cheerful today. Even if I am in the white noise-silent, impersonal EMU computer lab because our home internet is not working. I just feel ten million times better now than I did twenty four hours ago.
The closest analogy to how I think the last year or so has been is that I took the wrong choice when I decided on Journalism over English. And ever since (with the exception of VisComm, which was lovely, really) the tension and regret has been winding me up like a spring until the night before last and yesterday, I either broke or was on the edge of breaking. And changing everything around, it's like it's all uncoiled. I don't know why I feel so calm and so pleased with myself, but there you go.
Here's another thing I find interesting: While I was stressing, stressing, stressing this term, I had a few bad dreams. Not scary enough to wake me up, but hideously unpleasant, so much that I refuse to go into any detail here. I would wake up feeling sick and not wanting to go back to sleep. LAST night, I had a really nice dream. I think I was either at Glencoe (my high school) or at some composite school, because I was at some party in a gym and there was this mysterious guy with dark, lightly spiked hair and all was pleasant and snuggly and I danced and had just a great time. Amy, Jodi, Martha, a bunch of my friends were there, too. And I just work up feeling fantastic and all fuzzy. Rarely do I have such good dreams that stick with me. The particularly bad dream I had a few nights ago, that one just won't leave. Why do good dreams (and mediocre ones) flit away while the bad ones continue to haunt you?
I love the new class I went to today. "Sex and Gender in Antiquity," with the same Classics professor I had last term. Wonderful. She remembered my name, which is also good. It seems I can't escape people from my high school this term, though. I left Journalism and Amanda behind, only to find Kate in Classics. Weird. She was one of the many students who were taught by my mom in fourth and sixth grade. Again, none of these people are my friends, just people I used to know back then. I don't really like them all that much. Kate's not too bad, though.
My financial situation is looking up, too, as I went to the Financial Aid offices this afternoon to figure out just what the hell is going on and why I don't have my money. Still my parents' fault, but know I know what they need to do to make it so I'm not starving in the streets, etc.
I never thought of myself as superstitious, and I usually laugh at people who are, but taking a look at my own thoughts lately, I have to wonder. I mean, there's all my 'pleading with the fates' business, but there's also a certain blithe identification of signs and portents. This morning my alarm clock went off, set to the local Classic Rock station, playing "My Generation." Obviously, I think, this will be a very good day. The other weird thing is that I've been contemplating that song and radio, wondering if it's ever played anymore because a standard Oldies station probably wouldn't touch it (as if they play anything outside a narrow playlist cycled through too often) but it seems to early for Classic Rock. And yet, there it was.
And here I am, looking at the menu bar clock and realizing that I missed the five o'clock bus. So I guess I'll mess about here for another twenty minutes or so and then head home. I'm thinking lemon pepper chicken tonight with rice. Mmm.
[Title because I've been listening to that song all day (Clash, from The Clash, 1977 (I think)) and it's determined to stay in my head. Also, I want to sing "I'm the whiiiiiite maaaaaan IN THE PALAAAIS!" but know better than to do that on campus.]
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
