Current Entry
Archives
Profile
Notes
Guestbook
Rings
Email
Host
Designs

RECENT ENTRIES


Diaryversary. What what now?
OMG! Diaryland! Aren't you cute?
Mind the gap.
Oh hai, part deux.
Oh hai.

2007 Booklist
2006 Booklist
2005 Booklist
2004 Booklist
The bestest people on earth!
Basketball is EVIL
Mangofarmer saves TV!
Just another day in the neighborhood
Things that are good and things that are bad
New and Improved! 107 facts
cast
Trading card
Diaryrings A-J
Diaryrings L-Z
Strange google hits
mangosurvey
mangosurvey2
mangosurvey3
mangosurvey4
mangosurvey5
mangosurvey6
mangosurvey7
mangosurvey8
mangosurvey9
mangorama
mangomango
mangogoogoo
mangofest
mangoshake
mangopuke
mangorita
mangolassi
mamamamango

mangoognam
Ooooooh baby, randomize me!

"The three men I admire most/the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost/took the last train for the coast/the day the music died." What happened the day my soul died? Did anyone notice?
2002-11-06 - 10:30 p.m.


Song of the moment (again): Led Zeppelin - "Kashmir"

Well, for whatever reason, I'm feeling the need to babble on about nothing for a while. My flute is sitting on my lap right now. I had every intention of seriously practicing. Woops. But I think my new goal is to figure out "Hallelujah" so I can sit and be mournful and play that on my flute sometimes. I do that with "I Dreamed a Dream" and "Part of Your World". I'd try to play "Stairway to Heaven" but I don't think that would sound too nice on the flute. Of course none of this relates to what I should be practicing: octatonic scales and the Prokofiev Sonata. That makes my head hurt just thinking about it right now. God I suck.

Someone IMmed me and said that I made them smile. As I'm feeling a bit of a smile deficiency lately, that really made my day. Guestbook notes are nice too. Thanks all around. The thought that anybody really gets any enjoyment out of reading this boring drivel that I write here really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. At the risk of sounding like an after-school special, I will shut up about this now. But thank you. :)

Stupid Novemberliness. I really don't feel like I have a soul anymore. Instead my soul has been replaced by a grey, empty hole. I do my best to fill that emptiness by a constant stream of music. I've mentioned that I've bought gazillions of CDs since May, and that I'm Kazaa's best friend. Thankfully I've actually been reading books lately, and that helps too. The bookworm that I am, I read something like twenty five books last summer. This summer I read two. It's good for me to read again. This afternoon I picked up "The Secret Garden". A kid's book, yes, but a kid's book that never ceases to amaze me with its joy and simplicity. There's so much of myself in that book. When I was younger I used to stare for hours at the rosebushes in my yard and pretend that I was in the secret garden. That I was in my own wonderful world, alone with the roses, yet not lonely at all, where nothing could hurt me. That book just makes me happy, that's all.

So that's what I'm trying to do. "Fixing a hole where the rain gets in." I'd say the "cold November rain" but I do really get sick of throwing lyrics around, so yeah. Anything I had to look forward to has just been replaced by a great big sea of nothingness. Nothingness and self-doubt. I always look forward to Christmas because that's the one time a year my family is completely together. Last Christmas Eve my entire family, Mom, Dad, my sister, and me, went to see "Lord of the Rings". Together. That's a funny word when it comes to my family. And of course I get to see my aunts and uncle and all my cousins and my grandma. But this year, what will they think of me? Will they finally see me for the failure that I am? They were all so excited because I was planning on going to graduate school, a lot closer to them, this semester. But I didn't. I can barely practice my flute anymore and I'm working at Sears. At the same time, I'm not looking forward to January either. I'm scared to death of leaving this shithole. I readily admit it, that like a nasty weed (how funny that I'm throwing in another garden reference here), my roots here grow deep and have a tendency to choke out everything that is good. I just wish things could be like last school year. Of course, it was a terrible time with the world, and my university and the school of music had seen better times, but... at the same time, things were good too. The only thing is, I can't remember how anymore, because I've been down for so long, I think I've started to funnel out the good memories and replace them with bad ones. Or only notice the bad ones. I don't know. I guess what I'm trying to say is, that for those of you who are lucky enough to still be in college, treasure each and every moment you have. Every long line at the book store. Every bowl of nasty dining hall pasta. Every football/basketball/soccer/hockey/badminton/lacrosse/table tennis game that you go to. Every stupid party. Every boring class. And most importantly, each and every friend. It goes by so fast. It really does. One day I blinked and I had a useless diploma and I was working as a retail shmuck at Sears. I don't mean to paint a bleak picture of the future or anything. I have faith that this picture is only reserved for the particular brand of colossal loserliness that is yours truly. ;)

Good god, Little Miss Preachy McPreacherlady has been on a soapbox lately! I will stop, I promise.

I wish the thought of alcohol didn't sicken me quite so much at the moment (or maybe that I didn't have to work tomorrow). Blah. I should really be drunk right now. Or just drunk enough to sleep till sometime next week.

I need to go away and hide. I need something to look forward to and someone to look forward with. I need Ben & Jerry's! Now accepting donations of ice cream, strawberry daiquiris, vacations to somewhere warm, or happy thoughts.

I won't bother you anymore tonight. Goodnight all. Thanks for reading this far.

0 comments

previous - next

100 Books Club 100 Books Club

Days until Bush leaves office.
Designed by georgedorn and provided by Positronic Design.
Grab your own copy here.