Seriously, harvey Pekar. I genuinely like his comics. And he's a celebrity. And he's so mysteriuous. And I'm going to see him. Today. In like...23 minutes. Actually i have this horrible fear in the front of my head, right smack dab in the middle of the first row that he'll be late and we'll wait and he'll be more late, and we'll wait, and then he'll say he can't make it and he's really sorry. And it will be some sort of guilt that he wants explained so he'll write a comic about it and we'll read it, but still the man will be just as elusive.

I wonder if it's only because I've never seen an actual picture of him. Lot's of people have seen him, but not me. Lot's of people have even taken pictures of him, but I haven't seen one of those, either.

I'm going to see harvey Pekar today. In less than an hour. And I'll recognize him from all teh stories I've read about him.

It must be strange walking into a room where everyone knows your storries but they are strangers to you. I know things about him that maybe a bunch of his friends don't know. Not that his storries are all that intimate, but they do cover a broad range of information from marriage to co-worker's conversations. I like the co-worker conversations the most. i was really pleased to end the whole American Spleandor book with a one page funny from Mr. Boots. He's great.
And everything right before that was heavy. not only was it heavy but it was all over the place with different artists and even one written by Harvey's wife instead of the man himself. That one was hard to follow.

But anyway, I'm going to meet harvey Pekar. This year I'm forced to pick out my clothing the night before I wear it because then I take it to Mark's appartment and put it on there when I wake up. So I was prepared to dress with a regular long-sleeved purple shirt. I'm not that big on purple. When I woke up I wished I had my bright blue octopus/lochness monster t-shirt. I want to look cool for harvey. I asked Mark if Harvey falls in love with me, can I marry him for justa week or something until we have a divorce and then I'll get back with mark. But he didn't like that idea. I could be another one of Harvey's wives and then he'd have to write a comic about the early stages of our marriage. But Mark ruined it for me. I feel like I'm missing my destiny.

ok, so Claire and her friend Ian, who is really cool, come to my house because they need to use my sewing machine. But sometime between parking and arriving, they found a little cat and it was sweet and cute and pretty and precious and fuzzy and friendly. It was also shy, but really needy. So they ask me if teh co-op can keep a cat and I said no. But I know that no kill animal shelter that can keep a cat. So we went out to find the kitty. Claire took me to where she found it before. It hadn't moved at all. We just mewed a little bit, and teh cat mewed back at us. So we played this game of marko polo for a long time and the kitty followed us all the way to the house accross teh street from mine. But we couldn't have her inching timidly in State St. I was able to pick up the cat once before, but it quickly bound from my arms and was much more difficult to catch thereafter. With some tunafish on a plate, the task became a bit more easy. Claire pounced. I think that's fair. cat's can pounce, so can Claire. Then we got permission to keep the cat overnight in my room. Not that it's such a big request. Lauren held the kitty a while and when she put it down, the cat went straight to the back of the room behind the couch and curled up on top of the radiator in the curtains. We didn't try to move her for three hours. I worked on Ian's costume with my sewing machine and we hung out, forgetting about teh cat except to check on her occasionally. Then we moved the couch she was hiding behind and she hissed at us. By the way, I didn't know it was a girl until the next morning. When we went to sleep, the cat was in the same general area, just a different small nook in the corner by the radiator. At seven she started mewing loudly and consistantly. So I mewed at her too. I thought she wanted food, but she really just wanted attention. So after refilling her tuna plate, we just ignored her. And when I woke up at 10, I mewed at her until she responded and let me know where she was. I found her in another corner under Lauren's bed. So I climbed under and she hissed at me. But then when I left and she followed me out. And we played. And she loved it when I petted her. And she rolled on her back to let me skritch her tummy. And she stayed by me and madeit very difficult to get things done. She even let me pick her up and hold her in my lap. She just purred and curled into a fuzzy adorable ball. I took pictures. She was fucking adorable.

I miss her. Seriously, it would be so nice if I had a kitty to keep me company in my room. Not that I'm lonely. But she liked me best and it made me feel really great. When Claire took her to the shelter in teh morning, I didn't get emotional at all, but when i thought about it at work that afternoon, I just missed the Kitty. I named her Tuesday.

ok, so Claire and her friend Ian, who is really cool, come to my house because they need to use my sewing machine. But sometime between parking and arriving, they found a little cat and it was sweet and cute and pretty and precious and fuzzy and friendly. It was also shy, but really needy. So they ask me if teh co-op can keep a cat and I said no. But I know that no kill animal shelter that can keep a cat. So we went out to find the kitty. Claire took me to where she found it before. It hadn't moved at all. We just mewed a little bit, and teh cat mewed back at us. So we played this game of marko polo for a long time and the kitty followed us all the way to the house accross teh street from mine. But we couldn't have her inching timidly in State St. I was able to pick up the cat once before, but it quickly bound from my arms and was much more difficult to catch thereafter. With some tunafish on a plate, the task became a bit more easy. Claire pounced. I think that's fair. cat's can pounce, so can Claire. Then we got permission to keep the cat overnight in my room. Not that it's such a big request. Lauren held the kitty a while and when she put it down, the cat went straight to the back of the room behind the couch and curled up on top of the radiator in the curtains. We didn't try to move her for three hours. I worked on Ian's costume with my sewing machine and we hung out, forgetting about teh cat except to check on her occasionally. Then we moved the couch she was hiding behind and she hissed at us. By the way, I didn't know it was a girl until the next morning. When we went to sleep, the cat was in the same general area, just a different small nook in the corner by the radiator. At seven she started mewing loudly and consistantly. So I mewed at her too. I thought she wanted food, but she really just wanted attention. So after refilling her tuna plate, we just ignored her. And when I woke up at 10, I mewed at her until she responded and let me know where she was. I found her in another corner under Lauren's bed. So I climbed under and she hissed at me. But then when I left and she followed me out. And we played. And she loved it when I petted her. And she rolled on her back to let me skritch her tummy. And she stayed by me and madeit very difficult to get things done. She even let me pick her up and hold her in my lap. She just purred and curled into a fuzzy adorable ball. I took pictures. She was fucking adorable.

I miss her. Seriously, it would be so nice if I had a kitty to keep me company in my room. Not that I'm lonely. But she liked me best and it made me feel really great. When Claire took her to the shelter in teh morning, I didn't get emotional at all, but when i thought about it at work that afternoon, I just missed the Kitty. I named her Tuesday.

I'm going to write the cutest blog entry about saving a cat from the cruel streets of Ann Arbor in the winter. And anyone who reads it will call me a savior. And that kitty was so sweet. But I can't do it now. I'm at work.

Every tiem I see people kiss I get jeaous of them. It's really weird, because I kiss my boyfriend all teh time. But whenever I'm not around him, I feel like other people are luckier than I am, because they get to kiss at that very second, and I don't.

I just remembered that lyrics.

Oh, thinking about our younger years
There was only you and me.
We were young and wild and free
Now nothing can come between you and me
We've been down that road before
That's over now
Keep me coming back for more

Baby your'e all that I want
When you're lieing here in my arms
I'm finding it hard to believe
We're in heaven

Now my dreams are coming true.
For the good times and the bad
I'll be standig there for you...

Every time I hear a pop techno song, the kind with a girl singing to her boyfriend or whatever about how great he is for her, and the song is really just a simply harmony beeped out with computer made sounds, I think about Alex. It's probably not a good thing. Anyway, there is one song in particular that used to be a not pop techno song, that has this effect immediately. With just the intro, my memmory flashes back to highschool sophomore summer when i was in Boulder, riding in Alex's car after work. We made out one time before he dropped me at home and the radio was on. He loved that techno shit, and it was playing really loudly, some chick singing with a band of computers about her lover. That time was really good. And when I was getting out of the car, I said so. We both agreed it was probably the techno. So we tried playing techno all the time when we made out. But the passion of that song was a one time thing I suppose.
When I got back from Boulder and I missed it all, especially Alex, my friend made me a techno mixed CD. The first song was that same chick singing with teh same computer band about the same lover.
I can't remember any of the words right now except "We're in Heaven"

I saw Antoni and Cleopatra. It was four hours long. I was a little antsy by then end. My dressing up and down class was all required to go, so we went and sat in the theatre for four hours. The beginning was really great. They had frequent costume changes and the first scenes in Egypt were beautiful and lighthearted. But the play was a tradgedy, so at then ed, we were just waiting for people to die. There was a large bought of suicide halfway through the second half. Antoni had word that Cloepatra was dead so he wanted to kill himself. he ordered his trusty warrior to kill him, but instead of serving the order, the servant killed himself. Antoni was disappointed. He tried to kill himself, and in teh end he was successful, but it was slow because he didn't make a great enough blow. What he should have done is slit his throat the way the soldier did. Dumb move, man. His death was a good opportunity for comic relief I suppose. Shakespear took full advantage of the last opportunity for humor betwen the two lovers. He said, "Let me speak." dieing in her lap. And she said, "No, let me speak, and blah blah..." Then he says, "Just a word?" Funny, right? She was a manipulative woman, that Cleo. It was tsrange though, because I understood her to be a powerful woamn with all of Egypt under her reign. She must have had her own resources, but instead of stnading proudly with other world rulers, usin her weight of the crown, she just manipulated others the way any beautiful woman could. She was emotional and in love. And she was way into herself, but never into the whole Ruler side of herself, just the girly side. She cou;d have been a concubine.
She had a really nice gown. It was all white and very smooth and it laid on her so gracefully, fitting her loosely, but still displaying her form. It rested on her breasts and sometimes on her belly, then it folded unperturbed around her knees like a sheet of water falling over a steep ridge. And she wore this with a golden robe that draped over her shoulders and fell open down to the floor. When she sat, she looked like an egyptian statue. She really looked like the princess I've seen in images of great Egyptian art. She looked like the statues they animated in Prince of Egypt. It was wonderful to see that such a long gone culture could be recreated and placed on a modernday theatre stage.

I had a great weekend. I did this that and the other in TROY with my camera and got a big checky. Which is still in my purse and should be deposited. And people were happy with me, and some people were sloshed. I was not. I won some red stuffed dice. It only costed $400 tickets.

Anyway, the good part was when I got back and my aunt and unlce finally left (I shou;d write them a thank you note) and I had my date with Mark. He was just such a gentleman and he was really sweet and charming. And we had a good conversation and he said things I didn't expect him to say. Even after being with him for 8.5 months, it felt like a first date almost. And he said he wants to spend more money on outings with me. He says we should get out together more often. I agreed. It felt wonderful. I looked good, and he did too. I ordered a drink and he had a girly plate and I had a masculine plate and then my mom tried to rain on my parade by telling me that always happened with her and dad. But I didn't let it get to me. So what if my dad accidently gets girly food. mark ordered that because I reccommended it to him. And I ordered what he wanted if he didnt get the tuna I reccommended. You know?

I love to feel bad for myself and then justify my horrible impatience with "whatever. I have a headache and it's not my job to make people less irritating." Something stupid like that just makes it alright for me to be miserable and blame others.

But seriously, that was so annoying when Cara used my scissors (snatched them from right under my elboe) to cut through bamboo. What the FUCK? And I said, "Did you just do that with MY scissors?" And she said yeah. And I said, "Could you not do that?" Then she basicly blamed me for offering up the scissors because I didn't have my name on them. Fuck her. Just because they're not owned by a known art student doesn't mean she can destroy the property. Someone owns them. Even if it's owned by the fibers studio, she knows that quality scissor is not to be ruined by bamboo. Use the crappy scissors or the right tool from the metals department two doors down teh hall way. Geez.

I just read a Harvey Pekar comic that began with a splash page monologue. It loos like a perfect format for my story which is leaving people confused, missing the point, and just plain out of the loop. So if I add asplash page with the title and a big explanation, people will know what to look for in the following pages. The only question now is whether or not I'll stick with making the last page. It might not be necessary. But more text in general....

More explanation. I'm telling a story. I don't know how much of it can simply be shown. It wasn't coming accross correctly.

Hello. My name is JOE. And I work in a betton factory. I've got a

My sister hates it when people say "have got" in any sort of abreviation. I am not so bothered by it. I'm bothered more by "your guys's" as in "Where's all your guys's accessories? Don't you care about safety?" The response, though I thought it ideal, didn't work as it shou;d have. Not on this pile of rocks. The conversation continued, "Naw, we like to like dangerously."
"Well, that aside, you shou; dreally look into our sale prices an features of hands-free cellular headpieces. We have a variety and our chordless accessries are all on sale right now." There was no avoiding his sales pitch. But the people still didn't buy and accessories. I did. But I had a different sales person.

It's a beautiful day in teh neighborhood, a beautiful day in the art school. I saw Taladega Nights last night for 50 cents in the Briarwood Mall. It's actually an event I was looking forward to since I saw it in Grand Rapids for a pretty penny more. I knew I had to see it again, and I knew that the Briarwood played movies late for fifty cents on Tuesdays. And I knew that the co-op makes regular visits to the fifty cent shows. It all worked out. It's beautiful when that happems.
Things are workimg out pretty well. I'm about to fimish one of the two projects I have to work on today. And this weekend I'm going put of town for a job. So I get a change of scenery that I need. And I get $180. Amd I don't think I'll have to much homework to be stressed about.

Mark still hasn't taken me out. He was going to take me to breakfast earlier but we both slept too late. Then he was going to take me to dinner, but he called after I'd already eaten. He was planning on taking me out tonight, but he didn't really have time in the grand scheme of things. So he's putting it off again. We'll go out and make a big thing of it Sunday night if he can finally get it together. Collin and Alex went to Canada together this weekend and Collin spent a shitload of money. But I bet their trip sucked. So I don't envy Alex. She has to sleep with Collin, eww.

I was thinking about what I've come to expect from Mark and how I want him to excede expectations. The thing is... Mark doesn't spend a lot of time with me. I've felt like I don't get much out of him because he is so drained from school. But the flip side is, next to school, he devotes most of his time to me. I'm second to school work, but I wouldn't want a lazy boyfriend who fails classes because he's too busy fucking his girlfriend.

When I wear headphones without playing music I feel like my eardrum is being compressed and shoved into my head. But when I turn music on, it doesn't bother me anymore.

I have just discvered that my favorite pair of shoes of all time is ripping in half. An entire seam of theleft boot has become detatched. It's really sad. I said, "No" when I saw it. I just don't see how it could have gotten that bad without me noticing it.

I had an idea for a simple comic strip yesterday and when I went to draw it out, someone distracted me. i got another idea since then. It's good. it's funny, too. My nephew learned how to walk some time ago. It was a major event capured on video, but what my sister and her husband didn't expect to doccument forever in the halls of home movies, was Elijah discovering that walking is only made more complex by the organ hanging between his legs. When i said that to myself, i had an image in my head of a full grown man with organ pipes sprouting from his crotch, making it entirely impossible for him to touch his feet to the ground.
Anyway, in the video Elijah takes a few steps, two or three, then his hands fall right to his penis, he looks down and without changing his gaze, falls on his butt, aparently forgetting where he was walking to. The thing in his hands was very interesting and he didn't have to walk anywhere to play with it. Then someoen would call t ohim and he'd get up to walk again. It was like he wanted to show his parents what he had just found. So he excitedly took a few steps and reached for his toy to give to Ann. But then he was distracted again.
The body language that came with the display was incredibly masculine in comparrison to the Elijah I took care of just weeks prior to the event. At one point he was clearly beating his chest. He looked almost, dare I say, cocky as he took his short strut halfway to the other side of the room. The realization of his penis's dangling abilities sent him into machismo land, where there is no room for babies.

I recognized the way a certain man looked at me. I am an employee. Duh. I have a tag with my name on it hanging from my neck. He was looking at the magazines. Then he looked up over the displays to catch my location. His face had something written on it in black letters as if another store owner seared the word on his brain. Thief. Still, I wasn't sure he was a thief until my boss told me, "We just had a visit from our clothes robber."I said, "Oh, who was it?" She said, "There wa sno way for me to point him out to you. But he's a white guy and..." "Was he wearing a lot of Michigan clothes?" "Yeah. that was him. He'll change his appearance next time he comes in here. He won't have the hat on and he'll be wearing a different shirt. But you'll recognize him."
He asked me if we were out of the Detroit News. That paper only costs 50 cents. But he was probably shoveing candy into his poskets while I told him, "We must be if it's not there. I stocked it today." Then he grabbed a free magazine called "Michigan in a Nutshell" and said goodbuy. I wonder what he took with him.

I've already started to think about Christmas gifts. And I've already started to plan my spring break. But really, I'm afraid of making plans for the distant future. Even one month is too far in advance for me to be confident in my scheduling.
The spring break thing is fucking with me most. Mark and I are planning on visiting Ann and Michael and tehir two baby boys. But considering how shaky the grounds our relationship stand on are, I'm not sure we should buy plane tickets yet. They'd be less expensive, but damn. If he buys a ticket to meet my sister fianlly, we have to stay together and happy for four more months. I've had relationships that soured after a week. Obviously, after being with Mark for the greater part of a year, I'm not too concerned about a week. But four months is 16 weeks. It adds up.
What if a week from now I start finding other guys attractive again. And then a week later he pays less attention to me, and in another week our sex life starts to head down hill. Shortly after that I feel unattractive to him and then I get depressed when I'm around him. I mean, the likely hood of this is low, but it's a sure fire possibility. And then spring break rolls around and all I want is a break from the city he lives in. But I have to take him with me.
Anyway, about gifts, I'm getting a cigarette rolling box for Carrie. She'll love it. And I'm getting a Michigan sweatshirt for Michael.

I vow to not go to Mark until he comes to me. Carrie has her doubts that I will stay away from Mark for the necessary time. I'm not angry with him, just irritated with teh situation I have gotten myself into with him. he must be partially responsible. But still, I am the one who heads to his house, the only place I ever see him anymore. So my plan of action is to wait for him. Seriously, how hard is it for him to do something that makes me feel special or at least appreciated. I'm not talking about a kiss. I'm not talking about a back massage. I'm not talking about giving me his leftovers or fitting in a movie between homework. I'm not talking about dinner at Jerusalem Garden. That's where you eat when you want good food for not a lot of money and absolutely no atmosphere.
I want to dress up. I want him to dress up. I want him to spend time on me. I want him to be willing to pay for things he wants me to have. I want him to want things for me.
Quick list of things I've bought for him.
t-shirts for him, at least three
thong underwear for him
wide fish nets for me
birth control for me
hand soap
bread
Sunny D

Ok, so it's not that immaculate, but he didn't ask me for any of those things. I buy him things when I see something I want him to have, something I know he'd like. He buys me things on holidays. They're nice things... really nice. But there is no room for favors or dates or suprises. He didn't even have room in his budget for a full minute of conversation on his cell phone when he was in Louisianna for four months. We already confronted this last particular issue and it's resolved, but he hasn't improved his game at all since then.

Two weeks ago, Mark mentioned a fantasy involving wide fishnets. The next day I bought fishnets. They looked hot on me. I told Mark that I had a surprise for him and he would get it in return for doing something to make me feel special. He still hasn't done it. I'm waitng. He's actually making me feel more expendable.

I've been obsessively trying to keep Mark in a certain part of my life. After putting him in two art projects and realizing the detriment of boyfriends in mandatory graded assignments, I think I was right to avoid that situation exactly. The only problem is I didn't fully avoid it at all. I failed. And now I'm writing a blog about it. The thing about this one is it's not getting graded by content.
I'm just really irritated by him recently. That's what I'll tell him if he asks why I left his place before bed time. I've been working on a sewing project at his apartment (another mix of boyfriend and school) because he has a lot more room to spread out. Last night was the last of me working on this project because it is due today. So I realy only had to get through the final seams and attatchments before I could clean up teh mess I made and go to bed. But Mark sat down for a break. So I sat down next to him for a break as well. Then he found a magazine and disreguarded me completely. I was entirely pushed aside to make way for Rolling Stone magazine. At first I was interested in what he was talking about as he flipped through teh pages. Then he was quiet as he stared at pictures. Then his eyes became glued to whatever image he held in front of his face. So I got up to get back to work and accidentally tripped on the video game controller chord because it was stretched across the room. It came unplugged but no harm came to the video game box. Then he moved his eyes.
"Come on, Baby?" he snapped at me like, "what are you doing, ruining my roommmates stuff that I like to use? That's really important to me and you treat it with such disrespect." He didn't actually say that. He just went back to his magazine, unresponsize to my defense, "Collin tripped over my sewing machne chord yesterday and almost fell on my computer. But it was my fault last night for leaving the machine out. You said, 'You have to put that away now.' but I don't see you pointing any fingers at Collin for leaving his chords out."
nothing. He didn't say anything.
"Fuck you." Then i finished my piece, cleaned up completely, and took my four bags of material, sewing machine, portfolio, book bag, purse, and clothing I had for the next morning out the door with me.
Mark put on a jacket and shoes, trying to make me not upset. But when he turned around to grab an umbrella, I grabbed teh two bags he had lifted to carry for me and trodded off in the rain.
He showed up at my door five minutes later with my birthcontrol. He just needs some reassuracne that I'm not going to turn him into a daddy.
Anyway...there isn't anything wrong with puting your best friend ahead of your girlfriend. I'm just so bugged by how quickly he takes sides, even creating arguments that don't exist when something comes between me and Collin. I feel like cutting myself fromhis life completely and seeing how well Collin keeps him company. I'm tired of their apartment. I'm tired of their habbits. I'm tired of being with the two of them. I'll see Mark if he leaves his appartment to see me. But I'm not going over there. I'm not using my free time to hope he is free.

There is a boy in my house who picks things up to play with them before he even sits down. It's instinctive, I think. He'll wander into my room, look at my bed, pick up the small bag of school supplies from my bed and replace them with his butt. then he'll just play with it a while in his hands befre he realizes he had no reason to pick it up in the fisrt place.
I've been trying to set boobie traps for him, like my bra. I'll leave a colorful bra on my bed so when he's invited into the room, he'll be yammering away while he takes his seat and then look down in his hands to find my bra. Then he'll look up to see my boyfriend's fist.
No, not really. I don't want him to be beaten. i just want him to loose his virginity some time. He's just so uncomfortable with women's things. I don't understand how he sleeps at night.

I have a tendancy to forget things. For example, today I'm going to class with no recollection of what the assignment due today is. I'll be there in twenty minutes empty handed. I also forgot to check in the video recorder which was due back Friday. And, although I thought about what I would do for my costuming course workshop, I left behind the items I would need in class. I have a plan on how to work out all these glitches, but still... It would be nice if I simply didn't have these issues.
I forget things in public places so often. I've left my purse hanging off the back of my chair in a fw restaurants. I lost my camera because i left it on the curb when I was climbing into a car. I once left behind a small bag containing my new perscription glasses, a rented digital cameera with all it's wires, my wallet, and my cell phone. It turned up in the lost and found. As did the plastic bag of fabric scraps, sewing supplies, and my finished project for costume class. I also lost my portfolio because i forgot to take it off the bus with me one day on the way to school. It was in the lost and found, too.

I like the lost and found.

I wish there could be a lost and found for sounds. Sometimes, people talk but you just can't hear what they say. And it would be good if whoever heard the message could just pass it along to the lost and found where I could pick it up at my earliest convenience.

I'm getting into a funk of too much stuff. Teacgers and house members and friends and family, strangers and people I'd rather know only as strangers, people I love, too. They love to funk me. If hey don't funk me, they may funk themselves. And it's more fun, as well as less work to funk others. Some people funk me because they themselves are funked and they wish to pass off a bit of their funk to make their lives less funky and mine, moreso.
Oh baby. Baby it's a funky world. Just for my own reference,no one else has to care, I'm going to list the things that make the coming weekend so funky.
There was a party in my house yesterday. But I was at Marks house for all but 30 minutes yesterday, so I didn't know a thing about it.
There is a monsterous costuming assignment due Wednesday and it is the only thing I have any interest in working on.
There is a monsterous comic book making assignment due...sometime. And I am very unprepared to fulfill it, but I'm determined to get a hefty chunk of it done before Tuesday.
I have a second assignment for my costuming course due Monday, and I have to be inspired in order to be prepared. it's in teh assignment sheet.
I'm supposed to be hanging out with musicians and taking pictures of them. But for some reason I keep putting it off as if it's recreational and I don't have time for it. It's an actual assignment for my photo class.
I stopped taking pictures of Mark as soon as I started realizing what makes pictures of him good.
I am much more driven to masturbate than anything else recently.
I had work yesterday and I wou;d have made a shitload of money form it, but I didn't know I was scheduled to work.
I have workl today but I'd rather not go.
I hadn't even considered that most people take breaks on the weekends until I saw the massive mess left from people in my house taking a break last night.

Professor Gloeckner is finally here. I have been here for quite a while. I was also here Thursday because I am not on her email list.

I feel that I am changed by my lifestyle more than my lifestyle is changed by me. I go through life as if it happens to me. I am a student, not by my own choice, but by the path that is mine. It almost sounds like destiny, but when it comes down to it, I have the choice to go to class at 8:30 or to sleep in. Every day I decide I am a student. Even on weekends. Thsi weekend, though I slacked on my blogging, I was very right with my worky part of homework. I got a lot done on projects that have distant deadlines. It felt good. And I got all that other crap done too. Co-op living duties, work on Friday, touch base with Claire, errands, call mom, set up plans for teh future, etc. That's another thing. I feel as though I am not the cause of my situation, as if I have nothing to do with the events that lead up to the present. But in reality, how else would those events occur? For example, I'm planning a trip to Colorado with Mark in order that he can meet my sister and her husband, I can meet my new nephew, and maybe Elijah can start to remember me, the girl that took care of him for months. This weekend, I took the first steps of organizing that trip. When it comes along and I find myself in my sister's guest room, I'll feel as if someone else had put this together and just plopped me down in Colorado as a favor. I may forget all about the airport, the money spent, and the time committed in that moment. It will be as though I'm dreaming reality.

It's funny how things are done. A moment ago, I hadn't writen this, and now look. It's right here in writing.