Leaving.

The city has a pulse of its own. There is no explaining the rush, the way things move, the way that everything is so close, packed in, on top of everything. The faces, so close together, yet anonymous. A girl sits on the train, sick, and then man across from her hands her a bag. They do not speak. Her unspoken gratitude hangs in the air, dispersed with the opening of the trains and the influx of new people, dressed in costumes. Cars pass me as I walk down the street, blaring music, yelling, loving Saturday night.
I love the quick rush, but more than that, I love the splash of the water against the concrete that separates the city from the lake. I love the way it hits the beaches, little waves onto a little beach. I love the way that you can see the sky from there, green grass and trees. Somewhere, along that path that leads to peace and everywhere, there is a Peace Garden. I'll never get to it, but I want to. Something made it catch my attention from the road, a small enclave in the middle of such a busy world.
I am not happy unless I'm near the lake, and I realize that I cannot live there forever. I cannot spend my winter huddled in the Peace Garden, I cannot wait for spring on the path, watching the waves and the lake turn gray against the sky.
I am coming home. It's been long enough. I'm giving up Chicago, the lake, and the red line so that I can be happy.
August seems so long ago, it's been a long time since. It's not him, I know that's your first thought. He's fine, we're fine. I'm tired, always, about to be left alone with an alcoholic-depressive for spring semester. I won't be alright, if I have to do that. I've been slipping back into it for two months. I didn't think that it would ever happen again, not to me. I'm more detached than ever. I am numb, angry for no reason, unhealthy. Depression, while I live in prime real estate. Who would have thought.
When I called her to tell her what I wanted to do, and for the first time, as I discussed all of the options and weighed them out in my head, I felt something. I felt happy, sort of. Relieved. Lighter.
I miss the mountains.
Emily can't come back. I'll wilt.
I have nothing left to write. I sit down and my mind is blank. I think all the time, it never shuts off. I'm worrying about a million different things, about everything, about Mom, Danny, Katie, Mike, cancer, life, careers, schoolwork.....It never stops. I'm more alone than ever, and I'm surrounded on all sides by people. I don't want to know the people that I do, I make excuses not to hang out.
I'm taking spring semester off, sort of. I'll be living at home, working, and going to school. But just Metro, to keep my brain working, and to not waste money. Applications are going out, to schools, begging acceptance. They'll respond, and my life will continue. I'm not quitting college, I'm adjusting.
Don't say anything. Just realize that no education is worth losing your sanity for. Loyola soon will be nothing but a memory, a past life, and I can settle down and sleep, and breathe. Breathe.
I just want to feel okay again.
I love Chicago. But I love Denver more.

Project

After spending 8 hours clipping, picking, rearranging, organizing, and fiddling, I have finally produced this masterpiece (and I only say masterpiece because I rarely try this hard at anything....and for having no idea what I was doing, I think I did well).

Mumu, when you go to watch it, click on the box (instead of the little "play" symbol in the middle of it) and then once you're at the YouTube site, you can make it full screen. Turn up your speakers, there's pretty music too. There's a little box on the bottom that if you click it will make it full screen. Good luck! (and let me know what you think....he still hasn't seen it. I'm waiting until I go to Oregon to show him)

For your viewing pleasure, I present: Love, or something like it

Quickly

I made a movie this morning. I'll show you all at Thanksgiving. It's a compilation of my pictures and I'm going to show Danny on my next visit.
Surgery has been scheduled!
Relief.
Journey today to get stuff out of storage.

Love

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
-Friedrich Nietzsche

Love is everything it's cracked up to be…It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.
-Erica Jong

In between sleep

Strange dreams have plagued my sleep the past nights.
I am not sure why, and it's overflowing into my waking moments.
I am worried, about him and her, the closest people to me.
I am on guard, constantly, hovering between the edge of anxiety and a perfect calm.
Moods are mellow, there is no joy, no pain.
Only the constant reminder of the future stays my course,
drawing my attention elsewhere.
What good is anything if you're not really there? If you pay no notice to the present?
If you can't concentrate? If you don't know anything, can't process anything, can't think of anything else but everything flowing through your mind at once?

Playing with makeup and the Halloween party.

We played with makeup one night....this is what happened.

Pre-Halloween and final Oregon pictures.

Saturday night was the pre-halloween party at Melissa's friend Kaylie's house at Illinois State University, which is a two hour car ride from Chicago. I dressed as Snow White and spent the better part of the night drifting between people that I knew, making the required small talk. I went outside, to talk to Danny for a little while and get some air, and then ended up having an actual conversation. Another party, another set of faces, and back again. It was enjoyable, but not overly stimulating.
I jumped on the trampoline at Melissa's house today with her and Bobby and her 8 year old brother. That's the one thing I was never allowed to have as a child, and the one thing I always wanted. Relaxing into the couch, curling up with football and a golden retriever, and a home-cooked meal. The drive back, eventually, and the weekend ended.
It's back to the grind again.
The pictures: all of us at Kaylie's; me and kaylie; melissa decided to give me a piggy back ride (at that point i had ditched my cute but painful shoes and slipped into my new favorites.....); Danny and I in Oregon, being young and in love.


Time melds as days turn into nights and then swiftly into days again. Lists and agendas pile up, good intentions never quite turned into actions. Clutter, so carefully attended to for such a long time, piles now, in places most awkward and obvious. THe desk, a dumping ground for paper products: receipts, art supplies, notebooks, textbooks that should have been opened nightly for the past two months. The floor, a collection of dirty laundry and clean, socks, mittens, a duffel bag, the Communist Manifesto. Pictures adorn the walls, models, friends, impressionists, photographs. There is no theme, no rhyme nor reason to the rooms. Now that fall is official, there are Halloween decorations, borrowed from parents whose lives are already set.
It is a question, hanging there, waiting to be answered.
It is the silence that follows, in the moments where one is unsure of what to say, or how to respond.
It is the deafening, the slow quiet in the room.
It is time to explode, to begin, to renew, to live.
She offended me, today, telling me I have nothing to worry about. I laughed it off then, standing at the check-in desk, waiting to let her into the building, but I wanted to tell her that sometimes things aren't what they seem. Set into life, she has it easy. The endless stream of bills is constant. The mortgage payment doesn't change. Her husband's eyes don't wander, her children are safe and happy. She has a career, a path, and I'd assume goals.
I stand on the edge of everything. Of staying, of leaving, of wanting to do what I love and loving to do what I want. I'm confused. I'm thrown and tossed a million different directions, caught between the two cities that I've grown to love and the people that I've become attached to. Every time someone says I'm too young, that I don't know what I'm doing, I become more resolute. Life, to me at least, isn't about doing what you should do, or what will lead to a standard life. I want to follow my heart, and if that leads me somewhere incorrect, then I'll laugh about it, say I made a mistake and keep going. There are times I just want to run away from here, and not look back. I'd pack a duffel bag, taking Buddy and my Winnie the Pooh comforter that I just can't get rid of, and some t-shirts and my clogs and just get away from here. I'd sell my books for plane tickets, and run to him and let him hold me against his shoulder and tell me everything will be alright. Or I'd run somewhere else, and get a job, or a little cottage by a lake somewhere, and spend hours working on the masterpiece that is daily edging itself into my brain. But not much, so don't start holding your breath yet. I want to be happy. I want to experience everything. I want to move around and not settle down. Something happened in me this summer, a sort of yearning for comfort. I no longer want my heart to be broken in one of those heated arguments; I don't want to be with someone just because I think I have to, that I need the practice. I want what I have, right now. It's not that far-fetched of an idea, really. And today, for some reason, we decided, was going to be the day. 3 months, then, we are into this endeavor and I have not wavered in my opinion. If anything, it gets stronger every day. There is a connection there, the sort of thing that I never expected to find.
My clock has been blinking in a strange way, as though the power was turned off, since I got back from Oregon. And every night, I stare at it. I'm beginning to read it as though it was an actual clock. It's only fifty minutes off, so I just sort of do the math in my mind. I don't change it. I wonder how long it will take.
I'm consumed by thoughts of everything. Of worry for the safety of the one person I could never lose, of the success of the procedure people I don't trust are about to embark on. I worry about him, always, just as much as he worries about me. I think about scenarios, I run them through my head. I play with the future, with ideas, places, people, life.
Australia, I think. Maybe.

You never can keep the beautiful feeling for too long.
News this morning broke my heart.
I'll be back home soon to take care of things.
If things get bad enough, I'll stay for longer.
I don't even know what to do.
There is nothing to do, but wait.
He was brokenhearted too at the news.
I made her promise everything would be okay.
She did, but it took her too long.
I'm scared.
I cried for too long.
I couldn't breathe. It was one of those.
Make it okay, please.
I don't pray, but I might start.
I told Katie, and she cried.

Fall Break: Portland, Oregon

It's even greener out here than I expected. As midnight pushed toward morning late Thursday, I came up with an idea that sounded crazy at the time but actually worked out for the better. My flights from Chicago to Denver to Portland were scheduled to commence at 7pm Friday, thus allowing me to attend classes. However, one class was canceled, and since I was only missing two, I figured why not try and get on an earlier flight. The first one to leave Chicago Midway is at 6, and so as dawn crept up on the sleeping city, I was hurtling under State Street in a train bound for the airport. I stood on the outdoor platform of the second train, counting seconds, listening to music not meant for 4:30 am, anything to stay awake.
I made it! The first flight was nice; I sat in the aisle of the first row, which means leg room! There was a lesbian couple next to me attending a wedding in Denver, so we talked for awhile, and then eventually I passed out in my typical plane-sleep position. My head was on my knees, and so the couple next to me thought I was getting sick and tried to help me.
The next flight was sort of successful as well. It didn't strike me as early, even though it was only 8 in the morning. We sat on the runway for the better part of an hour, me stuck between a thin lady and a huge smelly man who kept talking to me. I hate forced airplane conversations with a passion. I mean, it's nice to talk and all, but it's not an inquisition and no I don't care if your daughter has her own business!
Danny met me at the airport. I was a little worried I would walk right past him in the airport, but I most definitely did not. He hugged me, and we stayed that way for a minute as people flowed around us. It was perfect.
They have their version of the Light Rail here. It's smoother than the El, and more like the Light Rail. We rode that from the airport to downtown Portland and then got on a bus to his school. It's beautiful. It's like something out of a fantasy novel. Green grass, trees, little muddy enclaves for students to disappear into. It's wonderful, hilly and damp, green turning to orange and red, overcast skies shedding gray light. At times, when the sun comes out, the forests sort of glisten.
We spent Friday meeting his friends. They are very nice. That was inadequate. I've been typing the same sentence now for at least two minutes because I'm not sure what to say. They're fun. It's been such a perfect long weekend.
Adventure on the way to the hotel. Cab ride, train, and finally the hotel itself. Let me say, you get what you pay for. It was like being back in the 70s. Literally. I think parts of that room were around then, maybe. The V-chip was set so that we couldn't watch any G rated tv, so we missed some great stuff on Animal Planet and Discovery. I'm not even kidding. We did get to see Meekat Manor, though, and our favorite meerkat died. That was sad. And then I fell asleep.
Saturday we just laid around and watched tv. I wanted to take a bath but then realized there was absolutely no way that was going to happen.
It's been so wonderful. I'm so much more comfortable with being away from him, now, I think, but time will iron that out.
Tuesday morning, we cried our eyes out on the way to the airport. Once we got there, we stood there crying against each other's necks for a good ten minutes. Finally, I realized I should probably check in and then we'd have more time to just sit and say goodbye. He walked with me up to the counter, and once I got there, the man couldn't find my reservation. I was sure I bought the tickets, so once he found it, he looked at me and said: "you're not supposed to be here." I was like, well, why not? and he said: "your flight isn't until tomorrow. there's no way you're going to be able to get out of here today."
danny kissed me right then, and picked me up and swung me around. The man at the counter seemed relieved that I wasn't sad. I looked at him and said "this is the best news I've heard all day."
So we went back to Lewis and Clark.
On Saturday night, a woman came up to us in a pizza restaurant. She had talked to Danny for a minute previously, and she introduced herself. She said was "Vickie, I'm no one" and then proceeded to tell me that I was absolutely beautiful and that we seemed happy. Then, as she was leaving, she tapped Danny on the knee and said, "count your lucky stars hippie boy."
And then, oddly enough, the next day on the bus, a man shook Danny's hand and told him that we were a cute couple.
He took me for walks through the forest, and down this beautiful path, and to the reflecting pool. The day that I was supposed to leave, but didn't, Mount Hood was remarkably clear. It was ringed with clouds; they just seemed to part around it, like some sort of purple and yellow halo. I tried to take pictures, but Danny didn't have his camera, so we had to use my camera phone one.
I'll post them, eventually.
The campus is beautiful. Everyone there is so nice and laid back. It's nothing like Chicago, at all. There are no blond girls with big boobs. Everyone is doing their own thing. One day, we went through some trees on the other side of a lawn, and walked up some stairs into them. Inside, it was like another world. We were surrounded on both sides by trees, but there was a path through it. We got to a clearing, where the sunlight could get in and the branches made natural sitting spots. I looked back, where we had come from, and saw that it was a singular path leading out of the trees. It is beautiful. The trees are starting to change colors, going from delicious green to a nice rusty red and yellow.
I was worried about this whole relationship on Thursday. I was freaking out that he didn't love me for some reason. I was nervous, I think, to meet his friends and see the people who get to see him everyday and now I think I'm okay with that. I am much calmer about things.
This is something weird. This feeling is the kind of feeling that people only get in movies. We're in sync with every aspect of everything. We both think about the future. He makes me laugh. He thinks I'm cute and funny and smart. (He told me.) He kisses my forehead, and then each of my cheeks, and then the tip of my nose every morning.
We sat in his room watching a movie one day and it just turned into us laying there laughing and talking. I miss that.
I met all of his friends, and got along with most of them. I had so much fun. His roommate, eh, not so much. He's passive aggressive and sort of annoying. He was most definitely not happy about me being there, and especially not when I told him I was staying one more night.
But I haven't been this happy since I left for school. Everything sort of fits into place again. This morning was horrible, especially. When we woke up, it sort of hit me. He was crying before we even left. I was packing, and I looked up, and he wasn't looking at me. I looked and saw tears.
It killed me. I started crying, too.
I'm not spending any money this month so we can split plane tickets so we don't have to spend 44 days apart. It just hurts too much. We agree.
Yay! I didn't think this would work. And it is. We're good. I was reassured this weekend. It was like we'd never been apart.
Pictures up soon!
This was updated Wednesday night. Late.

The Chicago Visit....

It went well. I had fun. Homework calls though, now. A real update later.

Babies!

I am going to see Sarah's baby today! I can't wait. The train ride will be an hour out and then an hour back in, and it will most definitely involve a time crunch, because I don't get out of class until 3:35, I'll catch the shuttle at 3:50. The train leaves at 4:44, so with any luck, I'll be there on time.
Emma Rae Lavery is 7 lbs, 14 ounces and she's beautiful. I spent so much time watching Sarah grow into a mother last year. I remember when she first started showing, I remember sitting through morning sickness, and this is the final product, a beautiful baby girl.
I love babies.

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

William Shakespeare

My Next Story.

A detective who handled the case was shocked to see a juvenile who was convicted of armed robbery and placed under house arrest playing on the high school football team.
Detective Larry Chevez was attending his son’s football game at Kennedy High School last Saturday when he noticed a 16-year-old youth that he arrested several months prior playing on the opposing team. “I was amazed to see someone charged with an armed robbery with a handgun playing on the field,” Chevez said today.
The youth was charged with armed robbery of a pizza delivery woman and released from a juvenile detention facility and subsequently placed under house arrest. He was ordered by a judge not to leave his house except to attend school and is monitored by an electronic bracelet that was attached to his ankle.
He plays for the Colonial High School football team, coached by Tony Guarino, who gave an exclusive interview today. “We just taped the bracelet up real good,” he said, acknowledging that he is aware of the youth’s house arrest and constant monitoring. School superintendent Gary Hubbard addressed the issue by saying that juveniles under home detention are allowed to participate in school functions, adding that students are not always suspended for crimes committed off campus.


Once again, these are all fake stories, put into my textbook by means of a paragraph of information, and then I turned it into this. My teacher read it today and asked me if I had any prior experience and when I told her I didn't, she told me that I have a knack for writing the news.
Yay!

September at the Beach.

I brought a long curtain, and laid it out on the beach. They set down their stuff, backpacks, shoes, and they left with their roller blades to go along the lake. I sat in my swimsuit in the oddly warm September air, and let the sun wash over me. I walked up to the water, and walked in up to knees, finding it too cold to actually swim in. As the sun faded into shadow behind the buildings, I watched the people around me. A little girl pulling a makeshift kite behind her. She was skinny, like little kids are, running back and forth between the edge of the lake and her mother, sitting in a beach chair a little ways away. Two men, laying on a blanket, enjoying the sun and obviously their mutual adoration of each other. A man in a thong, super toned and tan, actually jumping into the lake and swimming out to the orange and white buoys that mark the end of the pedestrian swimming area. I pulled my book out and read, uninterrupted, for the first time since I've been here. I took a picture of the sand, the city and the lake and sent it to him. It was nice to lay there, and to talk to him and to read and to watch everyone. When they came back, the sun had almost gone down and there was a little bit of a chill in the air.
And I finally slept well, for the first time in awhile.
He had a nightmare about me, and I felt bad, because I've been upset lately before I go to sleep and last night we talked for an hour before bed and we laughed and it was like we were hanging out again. As soon as I hung up the phone, I slipped into a peaceful sleep, and didn't wake up until six. And then again at ten.
Fifteen days. I called and made sure that my miles were going to count for that trip. I'm excited, because he's going to come out for last week of his winter break, maybe. I've been planning ahead, lately.

My Very First News Story. Sort of.

Well, here it is: It's fake. And I only had limited details to work with, but here's my final draft of a news article. Ah! Sort of exciting.

A 9-year-old Rockford resident’s challenge of a decision to close her roadside business led to victory today, allowing her to reopen her lemonade stand after it was shut down yesterday. A city code enforcement officer stopped by Stephanie Courhesne’s lemonade stand and forced her to pack up her things yesterday afternoon.
Stephanie’s father called city councilman Alyce Cycler to complain immediately. The councilwoman promised to have the issue resolved immediately and today, the code enforcement supervisor overruled the original decision.
After hearing about the decision, the mayor announced that she intends to become a regular customer of the lemonade stand, located on Highland Drive.

Stephanie Courhesne sets up her roadside lemonade stand outsider her home at 1186 N. Highland under the supervision of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Adolph Courhesne. On weekends during the summer months, Stephanie charges a quarter for a cup of lemonade and a dime for a cup of water.
Her business is successful, bringing in about $3 to $5 a day, sometimes more when the weather is nicer. Stephanie must reimburse her mother for the cost of goods, but after that, she divides her profits between personal interest and her church. Ten percent of her profits go to the church; another ten percent goes into savings, and the rest is hers to spend “to buy toys, clothes, candy, and stuff.”
After she was noticed by a city code enforcement officer yesterday, she was forced to pack up her stand and take her cups, cooler, cardboard sign, and umbrella inside. Her father was upset, and after complaining to city councilman Alyce Cycler, the issue was resolved in less than twenty four hours.
The city code enforcement officer’s supervisor overruled the original decision and said that it was an error in judgement and also that Stephanie is welcome to sell as much lemonade as she can.
Stephanie’s lemonade stand is in a perfect spot, because Highland Drive is a popular place for people to jog, roller skate and walk near Lake Clarity.

Boston Legal

and to cap off my better night:

James Spader won an Emmy for best actor in Boston Legal.

I don't even know what it is about him, but James Spader....yum.

Countdown continues....

First off, happy birthday Aunt Joan! I hope you have had a wonderful birthday, and will have a wonderful year.
Secondly, in 18 days, I'll be in Oregon. And I cannot wait. This is insane. I've never been so happy. And he's 2,000 miles away. We're getting through it, though, so that makes me feel as though this year will fly by and then we'll have three months to see each other everyday next summer. It's not at all like my last long distance relationship, where I was basically single the entire time. We see eye to eye on almost everything, he listens to what I have to say, we don't fight, and if we do have an argument, he calms me down and then we talk it out. Strange, I know.
I'm keeping all major Jewish holidays this year. I explored a little bit of Judaism second semester of last year. I went to services, plays, and met a considerable amount of nice people. So next weekend is Yom Kippur, and I'll be fasting for 25 hours. I will allow myself water, though, because since I'm not technically Jewish I can make my own rules. My friend Becky is actually Jewish, so it'll be nice to have someone to guide me through my quest for religion.
Emily Bates, from St. Louis, came up to visit me this weekend and brought some of my stuff with her. It was fun, but a little strange, because her name is still on the door, as though she should have moved in.
In our crazy last few weeks in Colorado, we foolishly overlooked the two hour time difference and how it would affect our life. It's weird, but so worth it. I wake up to his text messages and I fall asleep to his voice, and my obsession is completely returned by someone who's not a no-good white-rapper-wannabe. It's nice because he's actually in college, learning things, and getting out and meeting people.
He'd be so mad if he knew I was typing this, but one of the last days that I was in town, we were having a picnic in the park, spending the afternoon sprawled out in the grass with just each other, and that's when it hit me that I wouldn't be able to do that anymore. My head was turned away from him, and so when I suddenly got silent, he knew, but wasn't sure. I saw the grass and the sunshine and I just lost it. He asked me what was wrong, and once I knew I had to answer, I started crying. He let me cry for awhile, telling me all the things he knew I needed to hear, and when I finally looked up, there were tears in eyes too. When it was time to go, we just got up, and left. It was the second most beautiful afternoon of my summer.
Mike likes him. I like that. Mike is very protective of me. I can't even wait to see Fruitypants in Chicago!!! Maybe it will kick-start his college application process. But even if it doesn't, it's weird not having Mike around. We're completely different, that much is painfully obvious, but him and I are still super close. We get each other, even though we definitely didn't hang out enough this summer, him and I are still playing the games we used to play over the dinner table when we were twelve.
I know, you're all sick of hearing about young love, but I'm ridiculously happy. And you have to read about it.

9/11 and birthdays

Where we you?
I was in the bathtub, in Dad's first apartment after the divorce. I was annoyed when Dad yelled through the door that he was turning on my tv because something had happened on the news. I got out, and then walked into my bedroom and stared. The tv was on top of my dresser, the blond one I'd had since I was a kid. It was set to images of the two large buildings in New York. One of them had flames shooting out the side. And all of a sudden, as I was watching, something flew into the screen and hit the other building. More flames, falling debris.
And then it hit them. Something bigger was happening. Not an accident, a plan.
September 11th wasn't all bad. Two very important people were born that day. Emma and John are six today. Little babies who didn't know what was happening to the rest of the world were in their own fight for survival. They'll hear about it, and they'll understand, eventually. They'll see that somehow they emerged from that day as a sign of hope for the people who knew them, or who knew of them. Even though they are separate from the events that took place, they will always be associated with that day. It's the circle of life: death and then birth. Or rather, birth, and then death. But it's not quite that simple. It's hope, and pain, and beauty, and the fight for something as important as life.
So Happy Tuesday. May you see beauty somewhere in the world today.

Strep. Want some? It's going around.

Fall is coming. And so is Emily. She'll be here on Friday! I can't even wait.
And then, of course, I only have a week after that until Mumu, Fruitypants, Aunt Sally and Grandma Mary get here.
And then after that, fall break and Oregon and Danny.
It's going to be a great September and beginning of October.
I talked to Mike. He's excited to come. Wants to do something exciting. I told him there was nothing he could do in Chicago that would be exciting. We'll see.
Ah, the Wellness Center.
I will never appreciate what they do for all of the students of Loyola. My roommate, bearing swollen lymph nodes in her neck, a sore throat that looked nasty, even from my vantage point (which didn't include the usual light and popsicle stick check), and a voice that would make a volverine purr with pain, went off to the Wellness Center only to be told that she was fine.
It's strep.
I am currently debating even going back and asking for a strep test. I went last Thursday with a sore throat, and a cough that included both blood and green stuff, only to be told it was merely a cold and my lungs sounded clear. No strep test.
I'll make an appoinment tomorrow afternoon.
Someone should say something to them about how inadequate they are. How hard is it, really? I used Steve last year as my "doctor," since he is pre-med and probably knows more than they do. In fact, I always feel like he'll at least offer you an answer instead of the usual cough drop and absolutely nothing you get there.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those crazed college students you hear about faking illness for drugs. I don't think that any ailment can be solved with a prescription. I prefer not to put artificial medicines into my body, but when it's strep, or something like that, I'm all about proper treatment. Especially because it's such a contagious illness and I live in such close quarters with people.
Ah, such is life.
I need to get a doctor out here.
I love Danny. He stayed in last night so we could talk on the phone, and it's wonderful. He wakes me up each morning (just like he used to do in the summer) with a cute text message that completely energizes my morning.
Steve and I might look into yoga.
I've been getting very domestic lately. You should have seen the homemade pizza I made. I kneaded the dough, let it rise, formed it and voila! Pizza crust. Then sauce, cheese, veggies, meat. Bake. Food. Everyone liked it.
I do dishes. I clean the house. I whipped out my "Mom-Voice" on my roommate's boyfriend completely accidentally. He was like, "Katie, you sound like my mom." Ah. Wow.
I just realized that I don't really know what I want to do with my life except write. And suddenly, everything else is less appealing than usual. So I think I will just become a writer and then not worry about having an actual career. Because the 9 to 5 won't make me happy. Did it work for any of you? I don't want to wake up one day and realize that I never did anything I wanted to because I was worried about attaining status or making money (but then again, I'll probably wish I had). So we'll see.
I did write a sweet lead for a story in one of my Journalism classes. It had to be no more than 25 words, and while the rest of the class labored over it for quite some time, I had 21 words in less than 30 seconds. So, see, I'm not bad at this.

Countdown begins....

26 days until fall break! Oregon, here I come.
Yeah, we're counting, we know. It's lame. But how many times in my life will I be able to say that I've flown cross country for love?
Drama exploded here this weekend, but on the whole it was laid back.
Nice discussions with both Katie and Danny. Katie's sort of significant other, Ben, asked her when she was going to grow out of our friendship. Wow. Katie has been my other since freshman year of high school. We did the long distance relationship through freshman year, and got even closer, if that's possible, this summer. I wouldn't be able to survive if I didn't know that she will always be there for me. My wall is covered in pictures of Katie, Colorado, and Danny. But mostly Katie. And Colorado. Don't ever underestimate between best friends. Especially not the Katies.
Emily from Denver came this weekend, bringing her roommate unexpectedly, which caused disastrous results. And I am $17 poorer as a result of her inability to navigate city streets and find a parking spot.
However, things have continued. I got into a fight defending gay rights with someone's roommate, which ended in me walking out after I asked him to please not use the word "hate." He refused. I don't stand for that. As a woman, I know what it's like to be ogled and objectified, so when he told me he had that experience ONCE in his life and, as a result, "hates gays," I fought back. It was ridiculous. Some people are so ignorant and disrespectful.
Ah, well, getting a little chillier here.

Chinese water torture

As of sometime yesterday, my shower will not stop dripping. Hot water is contantly (and I mean a small but constant stream) falling out. Not little drops, occasionally. I don't know what to do. I mean, I guess I should TMA it. TMA (I have no idea what it stands for....the maintenance association?) is Loyola's little way of helping a student out. But do they ever come and fix the problem? Probably not. Any ideas? Plumbing fixes? Grrrr........if I leave the bathroom door closed, the constant stream of hot water warms my bathroom way too much, but if I open the door, I hear it.
.....
....
....
....
....
it's like that, sort of. Un-ending.
Got heated in Journalism class today. Not only was the classroom hotter than 90 degrees, but I shared my opinion on a document release that was not met well by the professor. I am worried that she may feel as though I was irreverant, but I asked a fellow student and they told me I was fine. However, it was merely a disagreement, and a sharing of opinon. We were essentially saying the same thing, but I was pushing for citizens to remember that this is a democracy, and that the majority vote does tend to rule.
I was sitting there, in my two and a half hours of ninety plus degree hell, when I feel my phone vibrate. (Of course I'd feel it, even when it has to be silent, it's never more than three feet from me.) A text message: "Hey, just in case you wondered, I am kind of madly in love with you." And so of course my whole day got a little brighter.

September Commences.

Ah, Labor Day weekend. Festive, of course. Friday night, spent with Maddie (from Colorado) and her boyfriend. Saturday night spent with Melissa, my roommate, and her boyfriend Bobby at his new place. The University Center is home to dorms for Columbia, Roosevelt, and DePaul. His roommates are quiet, studious, and definitely not into loud noises and fun. Sunday night, I went to my friend Hunter's for his housewarming party and his roommate Ian's 21st birthday. It was so good to see everyone again, and it was definitely a weird experience to see him and his ex-girlfriend with their new significant others. People tell me I'm glowing with happiness these days, but I think I just purposely act happier in public than I am. No, that's a lie, I really do glow sometimes. I have my plane tickets to go out to Oregon for fall break! (Thirty days.)

Yesterday, I went to the beach with Melissa and Bobby and we played in the lake and buried each other in sand and it was probably the best day I've spent here yet. Four blocks from my dorm, there is a beach. It's amazing. I just walk up Michigan Ave and I'm there. My camera currently has sand in it, but the lens does come out most of the way, so I'm sure it's just a matter of time before it's up and running again. I hope. We came back and we all made dinner together. Spaghetti and sausage, caesar salad, watergate salad, cheesecake for dessert, garlic bread.

And then the madness continued late into the night.

And we woke up, this morning, and life goes on.

And there's something somewhere that's pulling at me, and I'm not sure what it is. And I know what it's about, and I'm scared, because the feeling is deeper than usual. Fear, jealousy, resentment, hatred. Something, somewhere is stirring that. And it's starting to boil. He means nothing by it, but I feed off it and mull it over in my mind, and suddenly there is nothing there but that. Him and them. Him and her. Nothing. But my jaw is set and my eyes are cold. And there's nothing that will change that, until he realizes that I am not okay.

Gluten glutton

Perhaps I have conquered gluten.
I ate a chocolate cupcake.
Well, half of one.
And then a couple bites of spaghetti.
I am not yet ill.
It has been long enough.
Perhaps, then, I am alright.

Midsummer's Education Nightmare

Introduction to Shakespeare.
I should have known.
Introduction. For people who've never read Shakespeare.
I, on the other hand, have read more Shakespeare than the average person.
The second day of class (the first official day, because we were going over the syllabus the first day), we talked about what it was like during Shakespeare's time. And I don't mean describing the political atmosphere, or the social conditions that the people were forced to live in.
Nope. We talked about what the Renaissance meant. We discussed the fact that it brought about the scientific method, a renewed interest in philosophy, math and science.
Duh.
Everyone from the age of 10 on knows this.
Easy A, I know, but brain torture. I feel dumber already.
I do this. I sign up for classes that sound easy because I'm afraid to actually come across a challenge that I can't meet.
I met this one, though, my junior year of high school.
Shakespeare, I'm so sorry that your work has been dumbed down for college students who never got it in high school.
The teacher, a middle aged man, socially awkward, was asking the class about their anxieties for the semester. (yeah, any professor who brings emotion or fear into the first lesson is going to be a total pushover, even though he wants to pretend he's a hardass.) And as we were talking about maybe not understanding the language (grrr...... it is, after all, English), a book dropped in the hall and he asked the class if we were worried about bullets in the halls. As soon as he said it, he chuckled, and then must have seen the looks on our faces because he immediately corrected himself.
Ah, the glories of the politically correct statement.
Introduction to Shakespeare, here I come.

The downside

Fall break can't come soon enough. Shortly after Mom, Mike, Aunt Sally and Grandma Mary come through Chicago, I hope to be heading off to Oregon to spend a long weekend there.
My stomach has been increasingly more upset lately. I'm never hungry, but I often feel faint or sick. It's as though I need to eat, desperately, and even though I do, it seems like nothing is ever enough. I can't eat much, because if I do, I'll be sick, but I know that I need to eat. It's a difficult situation that I am wondering how to handle. There have been no substances entering my bloodstream via lungs or stomach, and I'm wondering how that is affecting my feelings of illness. Certain things do tend to take away the nausea that I often feel.
I'm sure this cold isn't helping. I feel tired because I am so sick, and I can't kick the cough or the sinus drainage.
Way too much information, I know, but it feels better typing it all out. I know what you're all thinking, "Hey, doesn't Loyola have a Wellness Center?" Yeah, we do, but I am not going. They're going to tell me I have IBS and then give me cough drops. I'll just wait it out.

Address:
26 East Pearson
Box #0601
Chicago, IL 60611
Use my full name: Katherine

Danny and I have been communicating via iChat, which allows us to talk and see each other through our computers. Mom, all you have to do is set up that camera and then get on AOL (so you can Instant Message me) and then send me a video invitation. It works. It's pretty sweet, actually.

I think I'm going to go make some breakfast. I'm not sure that it will help, and I'm nervous that this is going to turn into something worse. Emily was hospitalized last night again for the same reasons as before. Stomach. Stomach. Stomach. And they never find anything, and there's never anything they can do, but she's still really ill. I think it's odd that the two of us are both so sick for no apparent reason all the time, although hers is most definitely more severe.

Adjustments.

The building rises out of the ground, standing among the others, not different, and somehow not the same. 25 stories tall, it is hardly the tallest building around, yet it rises slightly above it's neighbor, the top of it proclaiming it's affiliation for all the world to see. My room is plain, for the moment, white walls and clutter, furniture against most of the walls. Two desks, dressers, beds, chairs and closets. One bathroom. All mine. Shower, only, of course, although since I am alone in this room I would have enjoyed a tub, and been able to make sure it was clean.
Groceries. Gluten free. The words pop out at me from the boxes that line the shelves and I see them, pick them up, and hope that they'll taste even adequate.
I hear his voice in my ear, he's telling me his fears, and I'm unable to comfort him. I told him my story, how even this year, I cried and cried and begged her to take me back with her. He's scared. I'm scared for him.
But here it goes, on and on.
Broken toe. Kicked a couch. Problem. It's purple. First broken bone of my life.
Roommates are awesome. Love them. Thank god.
Classes are not bad either.
Coughing fit in the bookstore. Lawyers. Awkward. The salesclerk handed me a cough drop and it didn't work.
Love.

Chicago, again

As we started saying goodbye, that day edged closer and closer. And then it was pushed off again, distant, and somehow the time started to slip faster. The last week, my last given days in Colorado, went so fast. There was the final show at Red Rocks, planned. There was the one on Wednesday that neither of us were expecting. Katie left last Saturday, and I do regret that I wasn't able to get up to Ft. Collins to see her before I left.

I'm tired. Waking up Friday morning was difficult. The hours slipped by, and tears leaked out every now and then. Stupid things would set me off. He'd tell me he loved me, and I'd lose it. And I thought that nothing could get worse until today. Because it actually hurts. The space where my heart was hurts. My legs, my head, my arms, my back. I am lovesick. The smile was stuck on my face all yesterday. We sat at Stella's. Our first place and our last, memories sliding easily between us. I think of the first night we hung out, the first inside joke. And it kills me. Because I know that no one believes in this. Not many people support our decision to try and stick it out. I've heard the typical "You need to keep your options open." or "Long distance? You're so young." It doesn't matter. Maybe it's because I'm young that I'm open to the possibility of love in the tougher places. I don't know. I'm following what I feel, and I'm usually not wrong.

I miss my mountains. I miss the sunset. I miss Danny.

This may be the beginning of my last semester at Loyola. Either that, or I will finish out the year. But I am keeping other possibilities open, only because I feel that one should not approach higher education with dread. I purely dread going back to my apartment. I dread going to class. I dread eating alone. I dread having to spend Friday and Saturday nights curled up in bed with a book (although for an extended period of time, I would be alright.) I just can't live without my friends. And to those of you who believe in "sticking it out," I'd like to point out that someone like myself, who is shy and has difficulty making friends, has no chance in a place where I do not feel comfortable.

That's that. And I'm going to be happy, whether it's in Chicago, or Denver, or Tahiti, or wherever.

I get pissy when I'm tired. That's a known fact. This morning, I got held up at security because the man in front of me was excited to get to flash his Arapaho County Sheriff's Office badge, and talk about how he had a knife with him. ...Power trips annoy me. We get to our gate, way down the A concourse, and of course, he was on the phone, talking loud enough for the entire waiting area to hear. I was not going to sit around and listen to it, and I know that neither was anyone else. I watched people look at him, and he sat there, oblivious. So I got up. And I called him out for being too loud. At five in the morning. I was very nice about it, and I threw in a nice little hand gesture in case he had any doubts as to my meaning. I lowered my hand as though it was a volume guage, and apparently my mom got a thumbs up from some guy who was watching me do all of this.

we'll talk about the room, the roommates...all of that. later.

August continues

I'm cheating. I'm eating gluten. And it is so good. I got home tonight and cooked one of those single serving party pizzas. And am in the process of eating it. All in all, only a fourth of the crust is actually gone, so I'm sure that I won't be too sick.

It's worth it.

Seriously.

Those are pictures from the Continental Divide one morning when we were driving down from Vail. And then the ones with the rainbows in them are from Red Rocks. Katie and Danny and a couple of our friends and I went to the Slightly Stoopid and G Love show on Friday night. it was absolutely wonderful.

Nothing like the summer to make you fall in love

Well, that was an unexpected summer. I didn't want to come back, not at all, and now I find myself not wanting to leave. I've been saying my goodbyes, slowly but surely. Tonight was hopefully my last shift at Dairy Queen; I walked out with the best feeling in my stomach. I was so sick of it, by the time it ended. We were packed today, with people who thought that they were donating money everytime they bought themselves a four dollar blizzard. But, no, the owners wouldn't allow the money to be donated. Instead, they keep it (because they refuse to participate in the Children's Miracle Day program-thing) and let people think that they are doing some sort of dollar good in the world. And they're not. I carefully step over it in conversation, not denying yet not agreeing to anything.
We're going to try and make it work. We decided that the other night, after we'd realized that something wasn't right. So it's me and him now. And it's wonderful. He finally met Mom. Him and Mike get along. And tonight, him and Katie went to see a show at Red Rocks while I was at work. He's perfectly cute and college bound and more importantly than any of that, he makes me happy. And Mom likes him. Keep your fingers crossed.
I can't leave now. I'm in love.
We drove up to Red Rocks, two sketchy kids in a Lexus, to see the sunrise last weekend. The pictures knocked me back. It was perfect. A spur of the moment decision made after we'd already lost most of the night to conversation. There was a food run, but other than that, we stuck to the routine. He wanted to drive back to St Marys Alice, and thinking of that hike, I suggested Red Rocks instead because I knew that after zero sleep I'd be tired. We went, and stood and watched, and I realized that there is no place more lovely than Colorado. I've never been more content.
I am still waiting on the bloodwork for the gluten allergy. I hope...actually, I'm not sure what I hope. If it's no, than thank god I am not allergic to it, but then what's wrong with me? And if it's yes, which it most likely is going to be, than I can't eat bread. or sandwhiches. Or cookies. Or cereal. Or graham crackers. Or brownies. Or cake. Or crackers. Or certain kinds of ice cream. Or granola bars. Or granola. No pizza. No pasta. Ahhhh......

I'm complaining and I shouldn't be. Chicago is up the air, once again. Dad has offered to drive me, Mom has offered me a plane ticket to St. Louis. I don't know how I'm going to manage getting there, so I think I will try to drive. I move in at 8 am that Monday. Danny offered to drive too, and I think that'd be more fun than any of the other options, but I highly doubt his parents would approve of that.

So we shall see. In the end, it's always what will be that will be.

And so it ends, so soon, already.

The alarm went off at four in the morning, and we pulled ourselves from the places that we had been sleeping. I was wrapped in a blanket, comfortable, having just fallen asleep an hour or so before. We piled into his car, and drove to make it there by sunrise. Past Idaho Springs, a little ways, and then up a winding road. It was cold, the windows were down, and Grateful Dead was playing in the background. We passed the signs: St Marys Alice. We parked and then hiked for longer than I would have liked, but since I was with the boys, I didn't complain and just followed them, up and up the rocks. We watched the sun crest over the mountain and we nestled ourselves onto some sort of rocky ledge. He put his arms around me and kissed my cheek in one of those perfect movie moments. And then we sat, in the cold, and watched him climb up and up the mountain. He yelled my name and waved, and then I realized that this is perfect. It's the perfect end to childhood, to being wild, to exploring and experiencing everything. This summer has been the summer that it should have been. From here comes the unknown, but for now, today, and everyday, it's comfortable and perfect and wonderful. Just like him. And Katie. I felt my eyes water yesterday, nestled into his neck, and even though I tried to smile so he wouldn't find out, I had to turn away and not let him see what I was feeling.

The sunrise pictures are from somewhere on i-70 or pena boulevard on the way to the airport. the rain pictures are off hampden.

The First Day of My Life

So it's not the best picture we've taken in our lives, but it's still sort of cute....

This picture reminded me of swans. I spent most of yesterday laying in various parks around Denver, and as the sun started to go down, a certain air of contentment settled over me. The colors were that perfect, somehow enhanced hue that you'll rarely get the time to see. I was with my two favorite people and even though the storm was coming, we were safe there, for that moment. We settled in and waited, and I wanted to capture it and put it in a snow globe and save it forever. But of course, I clicked madly, taking pictures right and left, but they just don't do it justice.

"First Day Of My Life"

This is the first day of my life

I swear I was born right in the doorway

I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed

They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw

I think I was blind before I met you

Now I don’t know where I am

I don’t know where I’ve been

But I know where I want to go

And so I thought I’d let you know

That these things take forever

I especially am slow

But I realize that I need you

And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night

Just to meet me in the morning

And I thought it was strange you said everything changed

You felt as if you'd just woke up

And you said “this is the first day of my life

I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you

But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you

And I’d probably be happy”

So if you want to be with me

With these things there’s no telling

We just have to wait and see

But I’d rather be working for a paycheck

Than waiting to win the lottery

Besides maybe this time is different

I mean I really think you like me

-Bright Eyes

That's how I feel these days. That's how I felt when I took that picture. Even with all of the drama that comes along with it, especially from my ex, it's still lovely. He notices the little things, is aware of my moods, and doesn't let me walk all over him.

Glenwood

The trip to Glenwood was great. We went up on Tuesday night, and stayed in a hotel there. We went out to dinner (gluten free for me!) and then went to the pool. I'm feeling so much better and I'm so happy that I figured out what the problem is. I'm hoping it's temporary, because this low-carb diet that I am unintentionally on is annoying. We went to Subway yesterday, and of course, all I wanted was a sandwhich, but I had to settle for a soda instead. The drive was gorgeous. It was so nice to just turn up the music and go.

Back to Denver. I took this whole week off since we're not going on a vacation this summer. I've been hanging out with Katie and Danny and Emily, since she's been in town. I'm really glad that everyone gets along. She leaves today, and then I'm going back to work and back to the usual habits.

This is Emily, my roommate for next year. She is staying with me until Thursday of this week. We are driving up to Glenwood today to see the pool and hang out around there for awhile. That is Danny, one of the people I've been hanging out with almost every day this summer. I think he's wonderful.

In other news, I have possibly discovered the cause of my month-long illness. I believe that I am allergic to gluten (wheat) and have been not eating any and feeling a lot better. This is of course bad news because that means I can't eat chocolate cake anymore, or bread, or really anything that I like.

Oh well.

July. So far.

Wow. It's already July. It seems like just yesterday it was the end of April and I was stretched out on the couch in Chicago thinking about how I didn't want to go home.
Well now I am home, have been home, and am currently thinking I don't want to go back to Chicago. This summer, so far, has been absolutely wonderful. There's been a lot of drama at work. I'm back to the forty hour a week grind, and I'm hating every minute of it. There's something in the attitudes of the people who live in Highland's Ranch. It's their superiority complex, the one that assumes that I must have an IQ of 12 and that I don't attend college, and am therefore not able to relate or conversate with them on any level. Huh.
Let's see. Double major. Triple minor. I'd like to tell them a thing or two. The owner has been treating my manager Heidi terribly. She's one of my good friends, and I just can't stand to see her have to help customers while she's crying. This is officially my last summer there. Next year, I'll have to find a job as an intern or something. I can't do this anymore.
The money is fine, but it's just not worth it. I'm losing out on my friends because since I am the only one who cares, I have to take the shifts that no one else will take, which means I work most nights.
That's great, but my friends work during the day. So they get off right as I'm going in to work. It's no fun.
I've been hanging out with Katie, of course, but some new people as well. Amanda and Danny were friends with Alex's group, which is sort of mine, which is sort of just everyone who hangs out at Stellas, which is sort of like a giant social network. Anyway, I am finally super happy and having a good time with other people. Not that the routines have changed. It's still the same things, but just with different people. And this summer, the guy I like has a car. Haha, so I don't have to drive everywhere. And they go to college. Wow. I'm moving up.
I've been losing weight because my stomach is constantly upset. That's been fun. Not. I have completely lost my appetite, and when I eat, I get stomachaches. So we'll see how that goes. Currently, I'm edging closer to where I was when I left for school, and that's not necessarily a good thing. I just want to be hungry again, so I don't have to feel like a moron when all the boys are halfway through their second hamburger and I can hardly get halfway through my first one.
My friend Emily from St. Louis is coming to visit tomorrow. I am so excited. We are going out tomorrow night, obviously, and then I have no idea what to do for the next couple of days. I want her to meet all my friends, and then I want to take her to Red Rocks and stuff.
Too bad we can't go to WaterWorld. Maybe we will anyway.
P.s. Thanks to Aunt Sally for that information about the crows. I hadn't thought of it like that, and it was super helpful. On the plus side, they haven't been around in the past couple of days, so maybe they've found someone else to bug.

June progresses.

It has started as the best summer of my life, and I am hoping things continue that way. New friends, two of them, and Katie make the space between work and sleep amazing. Swimming, coffee, it's all the same, of course, but with slightly more interesting conversation and some strange happenings. Tonight, as we sat reliving the day, we watched a kid we knew get slapped and have coffee poured on him. Work has been hectic, obviously, getting busier and busier. I am currently extremely annoyed about the people there, and their rudeness, but hey, it pays the bills, right? So things are moving on....nicely.

Red Rocks Pictures.