(no subject)
i’ve always been fascinated by the concept behind the polygraph-- it’s as if those needles are telling the stories of your heart, with words supplied by the steady (or frantic) beating of the heart, channeled and refined through the wires that are adhered to your skin. up down up up down, making steeples and mountain peaks and jagged cliffs of your heart, sometimes in blue, sometimes in red, sometimes in black (depending on which tv show you see it on); or sometimes almost a kind of melodic, rounded hilltop, like the slow steady beating of a drum. it’s like a story of your heart-- and you don’t even have to open your mouth.
i wish that there was something like that for the head. that records your thoughts the moment they a formed, before thinking and overthinking and psychoanalyzing have a chance to tarnish/augment/implode/embellish that thought. it would certainly make journaling easier-- for me, at least. doing something like this de facto, the English-major-wannabe in me starts wriggling itself towards the front of the line, and i feel like i need to sound pretty. not flowery and fluffy, just...well, i don’t know. sound like something. but anyhoo. i digress.
there isn't enough time in the world.
sign of the times:
hey, so do you have a facebook?
nope.
oh. we can't be friends then.
[ooh hey. did you know that "tide" is "edit" backwards? neato-nifteroos.]
(something along these lines. whatever, close enough. =P)
sometime in the past couple weeks:
norman: why are you bugging eric to go to prom? you didn't even go to yours.
david: it's because she doesn't want him to make the same mistake she did.
oh my goodness. such scrumptious loveliness that i could just eat it all up, silver spoon or not.
(dood, especially annie&kevin. aah! *hopeless romantic warning siren frantically flashes and whirs*)
so i think just about everyone who went to sycamore's prom has posted up picture of the lovely night, and with each new xanga entry in which i dutifully click the link to everyone's yahoo photolog accounts, a part of me is torn even further. ri-iiiiii-ip, and there she goes. (wo)man overboard. *sigh* i feel like...hmm. i think that as much as i have tried to deny my body and deny that i'm a girl, much of me wishes oh-so-desperately to express it. to dress up and to be on the arm of a gentleman and twirled and (dare-i-say-it?) romanced. as with most things, my views on prom are split. if i'm not mistaken, "prom" is short for "promenade", and that word just cooks up an image of the 1950s (or whenever the past of back to the future takes place), where everything was all about the curl of someone's hair, the flouce of the dress. the sweet, delicate innocence of it all. (hmm, maybe that's why i'm such a fan of kevin and annie-- especially her dress. and that tiara. =P they embodied that picture of a couple for me. but anyhoo.) and maybe it's just the experience of prom season at indian hill that has skewed it for me, because come january, what seemed like the plans for a high-profile wedding were made and reserved and carefully shopped around-- i remember girls talking about flying off to new york, having their dress custom-made, hand-beaded, etc. such elaboration (and money) for one (simple?) night.
[ooh, i just slapped a bug silly. poor thing, it's crawling limply on the desk. alas, must put it out of its misery.]
i look at the pictures, and i am torn. it isn't that i regret not going to prom-- more like...i wish that i had the kind of friends in my high school, in my grade, the way that all twenty-six of the youth did. because it wasn't the dance itself or even the dresses and tuxes that made it the night that it was-- it was the people that they were with. and i didn't have that. and...yeah. i think that sums it all up. and the funny thing is (well, actually, i don't see the humor in this, but oh well), it's still like this. i still don't have that. the friends that i have come to know, love, learn from, cry over, etcetcetc...they're all going off on their own respective journeys now. (and as it is, if i feel like such a burden on people who still live in cincinnati with me, however am i going to bridge that gap when they're off in different cities, different states? ooh, different time zones? =X) i don't have anyone. {{ok, ok, i know, it's an overarching generalization that's dramatic and all that. however, it doesn't make it any less true.\ sometimes.}} not at school, not even at church. there is not one person, one number in my cell phone directory of 175 numbers that i feel like i can call at anytime, anyplace, anyifandorbut. and this tears at me-- actually, it's more like how a sharp hook gets caught in a wool sweater and gently tugs at it, so subtly that you don't even notice that it's unraveling until it's unraveled. le sigh.
but i'm talking with abby right now, and it's helping. thanks abby. *waves*