so0oo00o angsty

I have to stop writing past my bedtime; when I get under five hours of sleep I start to think of myself as very melancholy and pensive when really all I am is sleepy.

"Hi Sleepy, nice to meet you, I'm ----(cuddly woodland creature, usually)-----"

Refusing to post again until I snap out of this nonsense. Then again, when has resolving to do anything ever worked for me? This is why I don't bother with new years resolutions.

Yawning. Pensively, of course.

probably nothing will change

I'm finally learning that simplicity really is everything. Mallory, sorry it took me forever, and sorry you had to sit through my shitty dramatic writing. Adjectives and I have this tough little romance going on.

too fucking pensive, sorry

College is just fine. I've found some friends, a few tasty places to eat, and some spots to wander around when I want to look at something beautiful and quiet. I can see a pretty sunset through my window and sometimes there's a cuddly woodland creature in my room and a friendly ear in Boston. If I'm feeling embarrassingly melodramatic, there's my typewriter clack clack clack ping. I have scarves, sweaters, and a good supply of tea and honey. When I walk to my building, I usually can find a decent pile of leaves to walk though crisp crisp crisp crunch. This is all I need right now.

nostalgia

I suppose now that the "belugas" are off in college this is over (hi, Mallory!), but I don't think either of us can bring ourselves to officially end it. A good clean break isn't necessary; maybe I'll just come back to it when I'm feeling nostalgic and just want to cuddle.

now that's progressive!

My cousin Abby, who is my little brothers age, came over today. I was in bed vaguely listening to the two of them screaming about wars and dinosaurs, when I heard her say "Let's play doctor!" Although I hadn't ever played that when I was little, I TOTALLY knew the implications of that game. I tried to overhear them, in case I needed to interfere, but I soon learned that the game had involved into something much less scandalous but equally frightening:

Dr. Abby: What seems to be the problem, Mr. Alex?

Alex: My nose fell off!!!

Dr. Abby: Oh no...there seems to be a problem. Your insurance only covers you from the mouth down! I'm afraid I can't help you. Goodbye Mr. Alex.

Alex: Goodbye Dr. Abby.

peachy?

This summer I worked a second job for this exceptionally rich, exceptionally sweet old lady doing various outdoorsy, gardening-type chores. I thought I would hate it because I had to wake up early each day and by the end of it I would be drenched in sweat, but it turned out to be more lovely than I imagined. She had a little farm, with figs, peaches, cherries, and various vegetables and flowers. I would wander around and practice my daydreaming, which I've now been able to slip into with a bit too much ease. I would often do my daydreaming by the fruit trees...there's just something a bit magical about growing fruits, to me at least. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the hunger, maybe it was the pesticides, maybe it was the thrill of stealing or my newly recovered imagination, but I have never tasted a more delicious peach.

Hold it in

When the dog starts barking for no apparent reason it's safe to assume that he has to poop. Either that or there's a ghost in the kitchen. Since I'm obedient and loyal I take him out to do his business. I'm supposed to go to the back yard and make sure he dumps it by the edge of the woods but depending on my mood I might just take him to the front yard and hope my mother doesn't notice the shit in her garden. I took him to the back today and remembered what an awful, weedy mess that place is. In the summertime the mosquitoes go nuts back there and while I watched Peter squat in the bushes I was swarmed by little vampires. A bite on my neck, a bite on my arm and a bite on my leg. I was out there for three minutes!

I can only come to the conclusion that my blood is exceptionally tasty. And now I wait for Edward Cullen to whisk me away.