make it hot

i have so much to say and talk about and ponder and muse upon, explain, extrapolate, exterminate... but i have no time to do so.

or perhaps it is when i open up this window anything that i can say renders every thought i have inconsequential and immature.

i rediscovered mirah. she is helping fill the music void right now.

x-posted to every aspect of my life.

'and so it is, just like you said it would be. life goes easy on me most of the time.'

This weekend looks possibly awesome. Let's make it so.

I am drained like a pot of noodles.

Everything is going so fast.

This weekend will consist of drinking, I feel.

It will also go by quickly.

Starting my new guilty pleasure book,
badger.

I'm upset; happiness is not a fish that you can catch.

You can, however, catch a lot of fish when you try. And catching these fish fills up your day. And when you're through with the day, you have evidence of physical sustenance, and can convince yourself you had no time for emotional sustenance.

I am tired. My back is sore, my hands, my arm. And yet I don't think I've had more of a fulfilling day this year. It's really quite surprising how many things I was able to fit in - three trips to the video editing room, two hours in the woodshop, one hour of television, one episode of Pee Wee's Playhouse, one and a half hours of hookah smoking/flyer making, one hour of KAADATT meeting. . . three hours of class . . .

Idleness is the key to unhappiness. I will be busy again tomorrow. We need more cat litter. As much as I love my kittens, I did not think clearly about how much work they would be. I need help, sometimes. I need a hug, sometimes.

I saw lots of different people today. Friends from all avenues. That is very refreshing.

Because Michelle and I are sooooouuul mates.

urgininthenight: what do you have to lose aside from your dignity?
myvegetablelove: don't mock me now i pray
myvegetablelove: it's hard enough i've lost my pride
urgininthenight: hahahaha
urgininthenight: you let your foreman send me away! yes you were there and turned aside

baby it's breakin' my heart that you're leavin'

I have fallen in love. With Chicago. I knew that I as at the very least unhealthily attracted to it last fall, but now I know that the feelings I felt were real. Chicago, you are my soulmate. Come to me and we will hold hands and have picnics in the park. We will close our eyes and smile with the sun in our faces and skip rocks across your lake.

I dreaded being away. Now I can barely stand being back. The long list of things to do, things to worry about unraveled as I held the string and drove to Chicago - it's been left along highway 90/94. But somehow, like some horror, haunting story, I come back to find everything sitting neatly in a pile on my desk.

I like buildings. I like the train that runs above and through the city. I like the sculptures, the art. I like the water. I like the streets. I like the parks. I lik the big bulbuous bulbs on Michigan. I like the castle church. I like the wide sidewalks and the sleet-like snow. I like running at the pigeons. I love the old giant black rock. I like the gigantic pillars. The only things close to you, Chicago, are London and Rome.

Fair trade? Fair trade. Fulfill something else when I am empty. Make trade fair. Food not bombs. It's so big, and I can't even fix myself.

What should I think of as I move into the second part of the second semester of my second year? I have been alone for too many sets of twos.

"to me you are perfect and my wasted heart will go on loving you"

why is absence so heavy to bear?

model-making materials, a swift and steady change in character, annotated bibliography, perfecting line scale drawings, model-making -

i don't usually freak out, but i'm freaked out.

i remember there was mist

I think the word that we've all come to embrace is the word 'aimless.' To many friends I have spoken to, this word embodies them. And so it embodies me.

Dear friends and lovers, tomorrow I head to Chicago for a United Students for Fair Trade conference. Parts of me are both terrified and excited. Kristina the Activist has not yet emerged, so I doubt that she will ever exist. While Kristina the Pretend Activist rides in a long car ride to a place where she may or may not have a bed, Kristina the Student loses sleep/takes too much sleep over the inabilities of her brain at solving physical, logical problems. It's a hard knock life, yo.

And while these more serious aspects of life are battling and knocking each other out in one hemisphere, in the other, this green-eyed beast with a heavy heart sits in a corner on a chair with piles and piles slung over it.

Oh, sometimes I am very silly.

I just wrote a bunch of emo entries and for this, I apologize.

In other news, I have nose cuts in my nose and they hurt a lot.

In other news, apparently I am going to Chicago tomorrow.

In other news, I hate being a girl and girly and vindictive and green-eyed. But you knew that.

So, of course to change that, I'm listening to Fiona Apple...

today

I feel that valentine's day is a little like drunk dialing. There's an excuse for anything.

because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers i ache from the perfumes of spring.
i have forgotten your face, i no longer remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine?
because of you, i love the white statues drowsing in the parks, the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
i have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; i have forgotten your eyes.
like a flower to its perfume, i am bound to my vague memory of you. i live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will do me irreplacable harm.
your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
i have forgotten your love, yet i seem to glimpse you in every window.
because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because of you, i again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting stars, falling objects.

-pablo neruda

Forgive me.

fake plastic trees

Did I really open up my iTunes this beautiful February morning and start playing my 'blue' playlist? Blue as in 'blue, blue, my world is blue, blue is my world now i'm without you.'

I did and as much as I want to be one of those strong girls who don't despise Valentine's Day (because that would only show a weakness even stronger than admitting to being sad and lonely on this day) nor feel depressed and lonely on it (so cliche), I can't really pretend that this particular day doesn't pour salt on any sort of wounds of loneliness or lovesickness. It's impossible to pretend.

My life is at a stand still. I have no particular immediate goals nor stressful ideals to work towards. Am I wasting my time? Are we all wasting our time? Oh, making 20 valentine's was good fun last night - being stressed out about making them. Today, I will be hoping for valentine's in my post office box and hopefully I will see somebody walking around with one that I made for them. Then today will have accomplished something - but we've still got the next several months, years, of perhaps aimless wandering.

'it goes like this, the fourth the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king composing hallelujah.'

Don't let me be lonely today. I just want to make somebody's heart flutter.

sacrifice

'some things look better, baby, just passing through.'

oh, i apologize for my drunken behavior. i'm ashamed, but not ashamed enough.

music is love. why did i ever stray away from the piano playing? why have i not practiced my guitar more?

you are love. what do i gotta do, to make you love me? what do i gotta do, to be heard? what should i say when lightning strikes me? sorry seems to be the hardest word.

the ants are my friends, are blowing in the wind

Today, again, I felt like I just don't care enough.

I do care passionately about some things. I care about certain people, about obliterating the world of historical figure fiction and Broadway musicals based on individual pop artists, about the slowness of the snow that falls.

But the stuff we talk about in meetings? Social action? Student body change? Whether or not our school should keep its Coke contract?

I don't care. I've relieved myself of any sort of burden relating to those things. Informing people is not enough. Perhaps if I could see that my time and effort would be spent on things other than speakers that the same 10 people who up to everytime...maybe... but you say that's the beginning. But of what? The beginning of the beginning, only. That's all it is. When action takes place, let me know. On that note, I feel proud of what our little Fair Trade group has done so far. We got Coffee News to sell Fair Trade coffee and Dunn Bros. to increase the amount they sold. It's little, but it's physical, and therefore, worth becoming involved in.

sinead o'connor

what else should i say?
everyone is gay

what else should i write?
i don't have the right

what else can i be?
all apologies.

i wish i was like you
easily amused

kristina fong is stupid

Oh imagine the joy I received when I was walking past Bigelow hall and I heard the above statement shouted from the heavens. I thought, god, what have I done? Then realized it was Dave.

Obviously I have done something wrong, because I am sick. And sickness leads to red noses and grumpy moods. I always forget how miserable it is to be sick. It always seems like it would be a nice excuse to get hugs and sleep a lot - but the fact is, you only want a certain kind of hug when you're sick and the others you don't want to give 'cause you feel dirty. As for sleep, it's pretty hard to do because your nose is always running off.

I have been longing for this certain type of hug in times other than being sick, however. As much as I love girl hugs, I love boy hugs. Ask your friends. They're different. I mean, not any boy. I don't want anybody reading this and getting the idea that they can just come up to me and hug me and I'd totally worship them for it, because I probably wouldn't if I didn't know them.

This is the fourth week that I"ve been listening to nothing but musicals. It's too bad I have a folk radio show starting next week. It's not bad. It's good. But you see, I just love Andrew Lloyd Webber more than I could ever love, say, Simon & Garfunkel or Cat Stevens. It's true! I can't help it. I rest my case. I state my peace. Hands up, steps back.

I hope everybody's semester is going alright.