love me while you can
01.28.04 @ 11:39 p.m.
So I guess Andrew has a LiveJournal and Amy reads it though it "makes her sad." I was polite and did not ask for the address because hey, I like to keep this to myself and I will show the same respect. (Slavik and online friends are the exception to this.) Not that Andrew and I talk tons anymore, but he IM'd me this evening to ask if he could maybe crash here on Friday with some friends. We chit-chatted for a while and that was fun.
It's some kind of rule that I get no IMs until I'm actually in conversation with someone and then I am in two or three at once. I talked to Candace tonight, too, and that was really good. I feel all happy after having pointed out to Ena that my life is, in fact, very boring indeed. That was what I wrote my brother, by the way. I recapped the journalism-break-down, talked about the Ryan Adams concert, and that I'm currently in a Beatles phase. Slavik may well know what reminded me of the Beatles today. I listened to The Yellow Submarine Songtrack and occasionally giggled at "Love You To."
I'm being deliberately vague in order to annoy everyone.
I had a dream this morning that involved watching a DVD with almost everyone in my family, including in-laws and soon-to-be in-laws. (Shaan and Julia were there, my sister's fianc� and my brother's wife, respectively.) It was really odd, and I think I can lay the blame on my brother emailing me. It's not that the email was distressing, just odd. My brother never emails me. I don't think he ever would have, except that my mom mass-mailed a couple of photos and kept messing up, so I had to do it in the end and I used my university email account. I was just perplexed. Anyway, somehow in the course of being half-asleep, I rotated my shoulder weird and it hurt like hell. That certainly woke me up, though I didn't want it to. No lasting damage, but it was a bit of a shock.
Once again I'm not writing until I'm tired and keep spacing out on what I mean to say. You notice that this doesn't stop me - writing here is like a compulsion. I've been doing it long enough (almost three years!) that it's like a cathartic dumping ground. Hopefully I'll return to being coherent soon.
I'm going to go emotionally mangle myself by working on "I Can't Reach You." Unfortunately, the last two days have been days of brilliant ideas meaning I have to rewrite all of "Sea and Sand" and totally change the way "ICRY" is heading, which wastes pretty much everything I wrote over winter break. That'll teach me to write scenes out of chronological order.
"Guitar and Pen" and "Music Must Change" are fantastic songs that compell me to move.
[Lyric from "Love You To" by the Beatles]
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
