No one's gonna take me aliiiiiiive...

Man, my hands keep shaking. It's really noticeable, too. It makes me think of Collette when we were in high school. I wonder if she still shakes, and either way I wonder why she did back then...

I thought it was because of lack of food, but I ate plenty yesterday and still shook like crazy. I mean, to the point that I had trouble opening poptarts and taking the cap off my pen.

San Francisco was awesome, but way, way too short. I love R so very very much. When I look him I swear my whole body lights up. My heart swells. He is my best friend, my comfort, my ally. He's the best thing to happen to me and I would do pretty much anything to keep him. So why am I so nervous that things won't pan out? He reassures me sometimes, but I feel like his snail pace in regards to our relationship means he doesn't want this -- doesn't want me. And that's a terrible feeling to have. I wish I could have more patience. I keep thinking that to take my mind off it, I need friends. I have no one to go to but him, and as much as I love him I don't want to be focused on him 24/7.

School started. It's gonna be a heavy semester. Hopefully I'll get through it, but right now I'm on edge. I haven't been able to afford the textbooks so have been flying blind all week. I should be able to get them tomorrow... if I don't, I might as well drop the classes.

Day 010

Well, here it is. I'm 25.

I leave for San Francisco in three and a half hours. It's going to be a whirlwind of awesome but as soon as it starts up, I'll have to come back here. Pathetic that it's already getting me a little down.

I took sleeping pills to make sure I got a good eight or nine hours so that I'd be full of energy for the day ahead. Airports and hotels and food and then a late night at the bar. Instead, I woke up two hours after I fell asleep and have been restless since. After I'm finished here I'll probably try to nap a bit before getting in the shower.

I finished reading the three Gallagher novels by Nora Roberts. I have to admit, despite my firm stance on "I can read whatever the hell I want no matter how silly because I have read more classics and weighty novels than you," I still feel a little guilty about saying I read these. I'm pretty sure my grandma reads these, and Nora Roberts is like the god of bored middle aged women. Still, I really liked them. It's too bad that there aren't any more about the characters...which is a problem I often have. I get attached to characters and then when the series is over, poof, they're gone. I'll never hear about them again, despite me feeling they're off living their lives somewhere. They made me smile, which is what I think made me like them so much. It's incredibly hard for me to do that these days, and I need to lighten the fuck up. I was swept away by the grand gestures of romance and the pouring out of love and affection. The sentiment, the family warmth, it was all lovely. It even had a magical element to it that definitely appealed to my literary tastes. Fairy tales and folklore will never get old.

I've been trying to find a few non-fiction books that I've been wanting for a long time, but to no real avail. Once I get back from my trip I'll have to check around at some of the secondhand stores around here (even though it's a fucking nightmare where organization is concerned).

Ok, nap time.

Shit, I'm 25.

Day 006

So, in an effort to make the most of my prison term, I've decided I'm going to try learning the tin whistle again. I get really frustrated when I can't do things automatically (I know, I'm an impatient child), so I've had these tin whistles for...years. Just sitting in my pen cup. I always wish I had more interesting skills, so why not try to learn? We'll see how long it lasts. If only I had that...what was the word? Oh yeah. Discipline. I'd say that I'd track my progress here but I don't really know how to quantify learning a musical instrument. I can play Mary Had a Little Lamb just fine. I can't read music, and honestly, I don't really care to. I wonder if it's direly required for the tin whistle.

I'm going to San Francisco this coming weekend for my birthday, which is on Friday. I am extremely excited because it's a weekend pardon from prison, and at the same time...anxious. I invited a few friends to a pub for Friday night, and the rest of the weekend me and R are going to be sinfully indulgent together. I'll try to take pictures. That's what makes blogs interesting, or so I hear.

Because I'm a psycho that likes to make lists (and then usually do nothing with them), I'm going to make one of the projects I'd like to at least truly begin or make progress in over the next year.

• Lose weight (honestly, does any female not have this on their to-do list? It's sick, in a way.)
• Exercise more, eat less. (What was that quote...eat food. mostly plants. not too much. Something like that.)
• Learn to play the tin whistle.
• Knit more, and learn to crochet (hey, I might go do that once I'm done with this post...)
• Really, really, really get the novel out of head and onto paper. Or a word document, as it were.
• Sketch your little heart out and stop sucking at drawing.
• Put together a sketchbook of the graphic novel. Write an outline for it.
• Keep going with origami projects. They really aren't that dumb.
• Get awesome grades in all classes. It's the best bet to get into any university. Don't listen to the douchebags that say what I do in community college doesn't matter.

I'm trying to think of things in the most positive light possible. At worst, I spend my year stuck here and get nothing accomplished and nothing happens and everything is the same as it always was. But at best, I could be in another country at a new university, or living in a beautiful apartment with my wonderful boyfriend. I could have a novel written and being shopped around. I could be selling art pieces. I could be making cute amigurumi toys and pretty scarves. I could be thinner.

So, all I gotta do is try, right? Right.