2004-03-03 - 1:37 a.m.
Raaaaaaaah.
I'm a dork, what's new with you?
No, really, it feels like I've started this year in the twilight zone, 365 days of groundhoggyness.
And I know that in some respects that's a lie to the point where my pants should be on fire now. I mean the other night I couldn't sleep and I read back the entries of March 2003 and thought:
"...Wow... someone really should have tied my fingers together so I couldn't type..."
I truly didn't notice how much I had mastered the whining dance til insomnia forced me to relive it. And in a way I regret it but I guess it was necessary, the semi-constant mental exfoliation allowed me to clutch that last remaining shard of sanity in the end.
Funny how much I use that metaphor. Shards of sanity, dignity, intelligence, imagination... and now I'm thinking ... when did I break all this stuff??
But anyway yes, we get to that point again and it's March, and last year when I was fighting to March on now I get the dizzy notion that I'm inadvertedly Marching back.
Back at uni again for one thing, the nightmare I spend most of my time not minding the place and the rest in intense dislike of the way it makes me feel.
And I still can't figure out if I'm the problem or it is. Just because it's supposedly the intellectual mecca doesn't make it the place for me, I mean if anything it points to it seriously not being the place for me.
I'm not from the right cloth for that thing, too many shiny designer labels where I'm only a relatively good knockoff that is unlikely to survive this year, let alone the next 2-5, in this place.
Where last year I was pretending I could make it, this year I can't bother, I'll lay down some chips and roll dice and let cards fall.
... I need to brush up on my gambling metaphors.
But still the whole situation more than irks me.
Smart Guy looks like he's going to be in most-all of my classes again.
He is the umbrella in my cocktail of uni unhappiness.
He ended up sitting next to me in class today, and do you know what I said to him? NOTHING.
That's right, I couldn't even look at him. In fact I think all I managed to do in that 50 minute period was take notes, fidget, and occasionally my hand trembled.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?? Okay maybe don't answer that. I mean, I think I have changed from last year, at an amount that could probably be declared statistically significant if proper testing was done.
So why does he still get to me? Why? I mean really ... why? I've made my mouth form syllables constituting sentences in front of more attractive guys, admittedly not coherent, but I've made them.
Hell, approximately this time last week I was half-contemplating a one-night-stand with a basically complete stranger.
It makes no level of sense that I still can't do this, or I've gone back to not being able to do this, or what have you.
And the stupidity of it is, if nothing ever happens I'll hate myself later for this, and if something ever does happen I'll hate myself for this.
All hail the new contender in "Queen of Wasted Time" ... or I'll hail, you just sit there.
Okay, enough, my smart guy rants are over-recycled material, it's not good for the environment, I'm sure.
I'm a dork, what's new with you?
No, really, it feels like I've started this year in the twilight zone, 365 days of groundhoggyness.
And I know that in some respects that's a lie to the point where my pants should be on fire now. I mean the other night I couldn't sleep and I read back the entries of March 2003 and thought:
"...Wow... someone really should have tied my fingers together so I couldn't type..."
I truly didn't notice how much I had mastered the whining dance til insomnia forced me to relive it. And in a way I regret it but I guess it was necessary, the semi-constant mental exfoliation allowed me to clutch that last remaining shard of sanity in the end.
Funny how much I use that metaphor. Shards of sanity, dignity, intelligence, imagination... and now I'm thinking ... when did I break all this stuff??
But anyway yes, we get to that point again and it's March, and last year when I was fighting to March on now I get the dizzy notion that I'm inadvertedly Marching back.
Back at uni again for one thing, the nightmare I spend most of my time not minding the place and the rest in intense dislike of the way it makes me feel.
And I still can't figure out if I'm the problem or it is. Just because it's supposedly the intellectual mecca doesn't make it the place for me, I mean if anything it points to it seriously not being the place for me.
I'm not from the right cloth for that thing, too many shiny designer labels where I'm only a relatively good knockoff that is unlikely to survive this year, let alone the next 2-5, in this place.
Where last year I was pretending I could make it, this year I can't bother, I'll lay down some chips and roll dice and let cards fall.
... I need to brush up on my gambling metaphors.
But still the whole situation more than irks me.
Smart Guy looks like he's going to be in most-all of my classes again.
He is the umbrella in my cocktail of uni unhappiness.
He ended up sitting next to me in class today, and do you know what I said to him? NOTHING.
That's right, I couldn't even look at him. In fact I think all I managed to do in that 50 minute period was take notes, fidget, and occasionally my hand trembled.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?? Okay maybe don't answer that. I mean, I think I have changed from last year, at an amount that could probably be declared statistically significant if proper testing was done.
So why does he still get to me? Why? I mean really ... why? I've made my mouth form syllables constituting sentences in front of more attractive guys, admittedly not coherent, but I've made them.
Hell, approximately this time last week I was half-contemplating a one-night-stand with a basically complete stranger.
It makes no level of sense that I still can't do this, or I've gone back to not being able to do this, or what have you.
And the stupidity of it is, if nothing ever happens I'll hate myself later for this, and if something ever does happen I'll hate myself for this.
All hail the new contender in "Queen of Wasted Time" ... or I'll hail, you just sit there.
Okay, enough, my smart guy rants are over-recycled material, it's not good for the environment, I'm sure.
