Big Old Jet Airliner

Four more nights until I'm home. Actually, if you count this the way I used to count my school week, it's only two nights. (Don't count today/tonight, because it's already happening, and don't count the one right before something happens, so Wednesday night won't count. That leaves just Monday and Tuesday nights.)

I'm excited. Tomorrow I'm going out shopping so I have stuff to take back. I love being able to come bearing gifts.

This week my writing assignments just involved bringing in story ideas, which is sort of weird. No writing to do? Just come up with three ideas for each of the two classes? Badass. I found some interesting stuff while sorting through the journals down in the periodicals room of the library. That's probably the room where I'll spend the most research time, and it's depressing as all get-out because it's in the basement, low ceilings, bad lighting, sort of dark and dull. It's like being in the dungeon. The perk is there are big couches down there, and people unabashedly nap there, sprawling out and sling an arm over their eyes and just conking out. I fell asleep on the couch in the department lounge earlier this week, and the library couches will keep the third semester guys from coming in and laughing at me when I'm all fuzzy, trying to wake up.

So I don't really have anything to say. I'm just excited. That's enough.

Please Get A Dress Code

I really shouldn't be doing this right now. It's 10:30 at night, I got home an hour ago from a day at school, and I really ought to be writing the two briefs due for class at 9. I've finished my interviews and I need to get cracking on the writing and whatnot, but I just can't work up the umph to get on it. School has definitely started again; can you tell?

Plus, I'm going home in a little more than a week and spend all my spare time imagining how great it will be. I'm excited at the prospect of not sleeping alone on a stupid air mattress for a few nights and seeing people that I don't have to explain everything too. That's the thing with new people: you have to explain EVERYTHING. It's tiring. At least at home I only have to explain the past six weeks or so.

My days are long because I spend them at school, in class and in the gym. Class is class--although I think my radio broadcast class will be tons of fun. I feel great, walking around with this equipment and listening to everything. It's nice to focus on sound instead of images.

The gym has a kick-ass rock wall, and I'm establishing myself there. But the rest of the gym gives me mixed feelings. I feel good because I'm like hey, I'm doing something good, yay me for working out . . . but then there's no dress code, so there's girls walking around in nonexistant shorts and bras and then I'm like, well, shit, no matter what I do here, it's not going to help. Plus, these girls are all really obnoxiously fake tanned, just like in Texas. It's just you can see more of it here, and it's depressing. The thing keeping me up is I have a way better upper body than them from the rock wall. So there. Keep your asses in your shorts, please.

I feel better about classes. I'm the baby. Three of the ten of us just graduated, but I didn't get a science degree (the other two did). The third semester guys like giving me a hard time because I'm a dork and talk a lot and am sort of clueless with a lot of science, like chemistry and physics and engineering and technology. (I know a lot more than they think I do. I like it when people underestimate me, though. Sets it up well for me to surprise them.)

I'm so tired. And I need a shower because I'm still covering in climbing chalk. And I still have two stories to do and a whole 14 hours to be at school tomorrow (class from 9:30-12:30, then class at 6pm . . . and seems stupid to spend two hours commuting back and forth so I can go home for the afternoon). And Seinfeld is on, so I'm going to procrastinate a bit that direction.

I can't wait to be watching TV and shooting the shit in Fort Worth.

Looking Outward

Tomorrow (today? I haven't been to bed yet) is orientation for school, even though it's Labor Day. Am I the only person who thinks it's weird? I don't have class on Tuesday, but then I'll have class on Wednesday and Thursday. I feel like I've been waiting forever for class to start . . . I know I've only been here about two and a half weeks, but it really does feel like forever ago that I got here. Without class, and without everyone up here, I felt like I had completely deserted myself up here somehow.

So I'm really glad class is starting.

Plus, I have something to work toward, now. I booked an airline ticket last night to go home in about two and a half weeks. I found a cheap one (no easy task since gas and oil have skyrocketed) and now I feel better about being here. I like having certain things to take for granted, because it gives me something to work hard for.

Speaking of something to work for . . . after a week of being cranky and difficult and mired in past offenses, I've decided to work harder at burying the hatchet with Dan. For the past six months we've had a really good relationship — and that's considerably longer than the two months of, well, not good stuff. A month ago I decided it was time to leave it be, but then some unexpected stuff came up. (I am continually amazed at how dense people can be.) I wasn't prepared for it. It was all the final stuff that I'd wanted taken care of months ago. It was all the last little nagging worries I'd had but just decided would never come to pass. But they did — and I don't think I reacted totally irrationally, but I'm tired of having to react at all. Maybe now things are tidied up, maybe now it won't be an issue anymore. I can certainly hope.

A friend warned me that because the beginning of our relationship really was founded on such rockiness, it's pretty stupid for either Dan or I to expect to totally forget what happened anytime soon.

But what's reassuring to me is that we had a lot of good stuff before all that. For months before we started dating, we became best friends. So we have months of great stuff, two months of shit, then six months of more good stuff . . . so while I've decided to not look at the past as much, perhaps I should remember our entire past, not just the uncomfortable parts.

And that gives me a lot more hope for the future. Because, as was said, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery. What a name, huh?

Things in general are looking a lot better, out there.