November 24, 2002
Up Above It
Updating before I re-attempt the evil that is my five page history paper. I get to write about the Mongols. Let. Me. Control. My. Enthusiasm.
It's due tomorrow. Do I work better under pressure, I wonder?
Mike gave me a copy of Nine Inch Nail's 'Pretty Hate Machine.' Hoorah. It is a lovely CD. I highly recommend track 5, 'Something I Can Never Have.'
I am drinking grape soda and cursing the pictures that keep falling off of my wall. I got a new winter coat today, an early Christmas present purchased for me by my parents out of necessity. It's sort of a black ski jacket type article, but with a down and feather and fleece liner. It is so warm. I also got fleece gloves, scarf, and bucket hat. I shall wear the entire ensemble when Mike and I go to the Festival of Lights at the zoo on Tuesday. We are going to go ice skating and drink hot chocolate and watch the zookeepers prod the hibernating animals out of their cages so that we can gawk like good zoo patrons.
Well, all but that last. If I see any sort of that activity going on I might get very nasty indeed. I better only see polar bears and penguins.
Mike and I talked about true love last night and how we are both rather skeptical of it. I so desperately want to believe in it... but can't. I am a realist and an idealist all at once, and it is a very sad thing to have dreams and simultaneously see the folly within them. I would like to believe I am destined for someone in life, I would like to think that I'd find that person and spend the rest of my life with them in mostly happiness. Not perfect happiness, obviously, but a mutual respect and love and willingness between eachother. Isn't that what marriage is about?
Nobody stays married anymore.
I told Mike that I don't think I ever want to get married if I'm just going to get divorced. He just stroked my hair and nodded.
It exists, doesn't it? I can't throw myself into the complete romantic ideal of it but I can flirt with it occasionally. I obviously do so with a certain individual in mind... I can't help it. I don't think he is perfect. That is what is so special about him.
As soon as I finish my history paper I am going to come online and fuck around instead of writing. But at least I've considered writing.
Only two days of school until Thanksgiving break. Tomorrow cannot pass soon enough.
astera at 3:23 p.m.