04.10.02: Happy Honors Day, Kids. "Where did you get that?" she cried. "Give it to me! Give it to me this instant!" Tristran closed his finger about the snowdrop, concealing it from view, and he took a couple of steps backwards. "Hmm," he said aloud. "It occurs to me now that I have a deep fondness for this flower, which was a gift from my father when I commenced my travels, and which, I suspect, carries with it a tremendous personal and familial importance." --from Stardust, by Neil Gaiman ...who happens to me one of the coolest authors of our day. The good news: I opened up the darn MS Word file and worked on my writing again. It's not Hemmingway, nor even Gaiman (if I may be so reverent as to call him by his last name), but it's something. The bad news: It seems like nothing is right. Today (Wednesday) wasn't a horrible day all throughout...but how could anyone have seen it coming, a semester, a year, two years ago? I like walking back and forth from class and having three people per trip recognize me and call out my name in greeting. More than that, it makes me feel worth something when people make a point to answer that proverbial what's-up...certainly, we say, "Nothing much," and that's all we want to say. But it's a dirty lie and a shame at that. This week was different. This time people came clean. They tell me where they've been when I haven't talked to them in a year, seen them in three or four. They tell me why they broke up with someone years ago, and why they aren't sorry for it. They express their fear that they're doing something completely wrong, glassy with tears and vulnerability. They tell me the things and people that they worry about. They tell me what, and give the why their darndest. Okay, so that's not so much news as ambiguous pseudo-philosophical rambling. Sue me. Sometimes it happens. I don't have a page of poetry where I can express myself as exactly as I want. There is no sarcasm in me tonight, so don't hear it. The ugly news: And I know that I have hurt people this week. There are words, and they are, "I'm sorry," but they don't do what the speaker is deluded into thinking they will do, so I will not utter them here. If you know me, then you know if potshots and aggressive deflating of egos is or is not my style. It's one of those ponderous weeks, where you ponder everything but that Medieval Art essay that you should be writing. And while we're pondering, this one goes out to Dimka: esli ti chitaesh--what the crap was that all about today??? Sorry, emotions just fail me in Russian...that's the best I can do. So! I apologize if you've read this far, because this was not a news-post, nor did it contain anything resembling unity, except for a structural reference to a Clint Eastwood movie. This has been almost completely random, and I promise that the next post will be more informational. It might be worth noting that this week I haven't been much in the funk of last week, though you might get a contradictory impression if you've read this far. It's good news, and you can be happy for me in that. I am. It's a noticeable difference: I can sleep (too much, even, so...yay.) better, as if I were an organic being created to do such. There was a time that you would be hard pressed to convince me of that. The monomaniacal thoughts are passing--as it turns out, I'm actually not the villain from all those movies, though I will never simply condemn him/her again. Even though the scriptwriters put him/her in to fill the space of a stereotypical role, it is never that simple. A week or two ago, if you had caught me between classes and informed me that I was Darth Vader, Agent Smith, Dr. No, it would have only confirmed my suspicions. Tonight the idea flirted with me again, but I've gathered enough constitution to hang in there. Enough of this. Next time, there will be content which corresponds directly to a communicable reality. It's just one of those days. Oh yeah, Honors Day. So all post-12 noon classes were cancelled for some reason that makes us call today Honors Day. Got me. -stub out-