because of not sleeping, i have been throwing up this morning. and now my friend is treating me like her personal limo service, and i cannot get out of it. i don't trust her to take my car, which just had repairs made on friday. not that she cares that i am sick and have 15 pages still to write before midnight. or can take a cab. i feel like i ( Read more... )

five pages now, ten to go. take that james joyce. the library is very odd at this hour. and staying up all night will be a delight. oh god, what the hell am i writing?????

going under. sinking. leaving in six hours without work done. life sucks. john gets to sit around and watch me write. shit. shit. shit. big question: sleep tonight or not? hmmmm. shit shit shit. oh, my writing is so joycean. except it sucks. shit. production. shit. everything i write. goodness.

i haven't written here in ages, so i thought that i would...italy is incredible. i only have a few weeks left here, but i am ready to come back in the spring now. this weekend i am gonig to the sea shore, and that makes me really happy. i am already plotting my escapes from vassar in the fall to run away to the beach when it is sunny. i am ( Read more... )

heart....melting....

tonight was fun.

somehow, i just found exactly what i have been needing for the past few days. a friend from school is here for a couple weeks. and my best friend from high school called tonight. life will be happy in the morning.

drama, drama, go away. don't come back another day.

it is so quiet in the library i almost do not know what to do. shhhh.

one more final down. a long paper to write tonight. i am up for it. another final on monday. that will be fine. i am so excited to leave, but i really do not want to go just yet. i do not know if our paths will ever cross again, but i pray that they do. it doesn't even need to be any time soon, just sometime. he makes me happy--genuinely, ( Read more... )

a beautiful conclusion from a picturesque book:

"it is summer. it is spring. i am immeasurably, unbearably happy. i am three years old. i am sixty. i am six.
i am there."

-david malouf, an imaginary life