As a disclaimer, I would like to say this, vicariously, through a little Voki lady.

Get a Voki now!

Moving along, here’s the scoop. So I’ve dropped my Comparative Government class, and before you say anything, check yo’self ‘cuz I went over it with Arend and he already said it was okay. So THERE. :::sticks tongue out like a three year old::::

It isn’t as if I don’t want to learn this stuff. I do! That’s why I dropped it. I got my book late, I have a three week class term, and I am nowhere near prepared to take my midterm on Thursday. The real trouble is that I found out that taking the same class in the autumn quarter, which I was so totally prepared to do, is impossible. Apparently it’s “full” or some such nonsense. I suppose I’ll just have to cross my fingers that it’s offered in winter quarter and pounce on it as soon as it perks its unsuspecting little head up over the long grasses on the Savanna.

Sigh. I wanna go to Africa.

And that’s where all this is going. I thought I was doing all this schooling because 1) I think my mother would have liked it and I’m able to afford it because of her, and 2) because afterwards I wanted to go to Bible school and then whisk myself off on an African evangelism adventure! But now I can’t afford to go to Bible school afterwards, and I wonder suddenly, What am I aiming for?

This is the constant confusion of People My Age. I’m not too worried about it. Not too worried about the wondering, that is. It’s typical, it’s appropriate. But getting to the answer, ahhh, yes, that is something.

Alright, alright. I admit it. I shouldn’t have been such a jerk to that-erp!-man I was lamblasting yesterday morning. Not sorry enough to take to down though, I guess. No alterations. No going back and changing the past, even when I could and not have to worry about that whole paradoxical killed-my-grandfather-on-accident type of thing. I should be honest. And the honest truth is apparently that I’m kind of cruel and have an anger problem.

No, really, I’m as shocked as you are.

And, in the spirit of being upfront about things that I don’t want to admit, I should say that I’ve also been missing Simon. I broke down and asked him to call me. Argh. Why do I have to be me?

(more…)

I want to run away. I don’t want to be here anymore. I can imagine myself in places all over the world, sitting, accepting, some place that is quiet and strange to me. I can see myself breathing out my days with some sense of . . . peace? With some sense of rest.

I can’t sleep at night. I either refuse to go to bed because of some free floating anxiety or I wake up again and again and can’t fall back asleep. Grief is choking me. It creeps up on me while I lay in the dark with my eyes closed and suddenly I hear my mind say, “My mother is dead.” It’s as if I just realized it. I weep. My mother is dead.

(more…)