Freehand

obscure things this will just be a stream of consciousness thing about thing that what was I even thinking about again? vampire zombie blue nail polish! my mind works in mysterious ways but so does everyone's mind and it's so breezy here. I like this dress. I was a cuddly baby. This is going to be smashingly awkward. Can't I just have a day to curl up and watch Doctor Who? I used to think it could be abbreviated Dr. Who, but that's silly because he's the Doctor, not a doctor. And OH MY GOODNESS. And every time I sit down to watch it, I just get interrupted anyhow. I need to trim this odd bit off my nail. I just wrote hair when I meant to write nail, which was weird because I like my hair now, especially now that I have a straightener that I am learning how to use. Fun fun fun fun oh look the weekend has already passed. Only a couple more days until I go back? go to? school and I still can't decide which is more real, my time here or my time there. And maybe they're both real. Got to go bye.

Things That Shouldn't Be Things

THIS

 

Returning again

I got my wisdom tooth out two days ago. The fact that it's there is supposed to signify that I had become wise at some point in my nearly 21 years of existence, right?

I went back to high school yesterday. Every time I go back, I feel a little more removed from that part of my life. A little more jaded, maybe? Maybe Bowling for Soup was right. Maybe high school doesn't end, because on the outside, exist the same dramas and the same politicking and the same cool people who get everything they want while the rest of us are left scrambling for any indication that in 10 years time, the people we once knew will remember that one awesome thing that happened and forget all the bad hat days and all the mess-ups and fake-outs and bad decisions. But every time I go back, I realize that, like it or not, I have changed. I'm still neurotic and sentimental. I like getting A's on my homework and I don't like giving up when I know I can do better. I still use who and whom correctly when I'm speaking, and I'm still afraid of needles and dentists.

But occasionally, I put on lipstick now, and a little concealer, and it's really shouldn't be a surprise when I do. I paint my nails, and although I currently have on a rosy pink, I'm really more into extremely dark or bright colors. I wear dresses and belts and necklaces and boots. My jeans fit me correctly, and, holy crap, is that eyeliner? I don't have to pretend to be scandalized by people smoking pot outside my entryway, or by people who are way to young to be downing straight shots of tequila on a school night, or by people who wear dark lipstick and leather jackets. Because I'm not.

I don't care about who dates whom (or who sleeps with whom for that matter), unless you hurt one of my friends, in which case, I will punch you in the face. I don't care whether you're waiting until marriage or have 20 notches on your bedpost (just make sure I'm not the one moving into your room next year). It doesn't really matter to me what sordid details your personal life holds (like that time you caught chlamydia whilst skinny dipping...yeah...save that story for your next squeeze). And it really shouldn't matter to you what has or hasn't happened in my distant past.

[Sidebar: If you're getting married, or having babies, or got promoted, or have an altogether awesome story about that one time you climbed Everest, or need me to talk through anything/punch anyone/put you to bed with a bottle of water and an aspirin, I'm always here for a chat. Or, you know, to call a cab for your sorry bum.]

Maybe I can never quite outgrow that place, because make no mistake. I've had wonderful times there with wonderful people. But ultimately, I have moved on. I've made several decisions that make me very happy at the moment, and I have no regrets about the things I've done in high school. Just don't drudge back all the crap that I did back then, and we'll be perfectly fine.

Hearts and snuggles!
Angela

Angela...

...saw the Candyman do six left-legged backflips and one front-flip in a row on Saturday.

...met a Shaolin abbot on Sunday.

...got her hair cut and is now "stylish".

...is getting her wisdom teeth out on Wednesday. AHHHHH!!!!

Things Angela Likes

1) Making this semester's GPA her b!tch.

2) Manhole covers that look like this:

I guess that makes me a nerd.

Membranes

I love hanging out in book stores. It brings me back to when I was a kid and I could just sit in bookstores and read whatever the heck I wanted and everything new was on the shelves and the whole world was at my disposal. Book stores like Barnes and Noble always have the huge windows that let all the light in so everything seems brighter and sunnier. That's one of the great things about living in California, I guess, because right now, everything is 70 degrees and sunny and, sitting on my couch looking out onto the tree tops, it's quite beautiful. I also get inspired in book stores, and, maybe it's because I don't have much to worry about in terms of running into people I know, but I tend to hang around and read insignificant and quite crappy books and I get inspired. I always want to write a novel when I'm in there because I always feel like I can write at least as well as some of the stuff that's in the teen section, or the romance section, or the fantasy section (murderous pixies? really?). And I never have enough paper or patience to finish everything. By the time I get home, the need to write has dissipated and when I look at my notes, I think to myself, "What was I thinking? This is just as crappy as anything that's out there." Oh well.

This morning, I peeled an egg and ate it for breakfast. For a long time, I didn't know eggs had membranes. Well, I knew unconsciously, but since I saw this, I didn't really know.



After that, every time I've peeled a hard-boiled egg, I have noticed the membrane, and usually, I am in too much of a rush to deal with it, so I just peel an egg like people do and nom it down. But these days have been quite lazy, so I decided to peel it while leaving the membrane on.

See? It's squishy like a hardboiled egg!

And then I peeled the membrane off...

And ate it. Nom. 

This is what the end of an era feels like

So this is what the end of an era feels like. I expected it to be different, sadder maybe, rather than a hectic rushing off into the New Haven fog. Maybe the hugs weren't long enough. Maybe there weren't enough tears. Maybe we're all so self absorbed that it doesn't matter anymore. Sure, it's true that we're not as close as we have been for the past couple of years. We've found others who maybe understand us more, or better, somehow. It doesn't mean the end is not bittersweet.

The end to me right now, as I sit in my summer apartment listening to Kelsey cook lunch and street workers banging away at the pavement, is tiring. My bones ache. My head is alert at the moment, but the second I get the chance, I know I'm going to fall fast asleep. Probably on the shuttle to the airport. Probably.

The ending, as I look around at all our crap scattered around the apartment, is a new beginning. It's mattresses perched on a loft. It's expensive leather couches I'm afraid of sitting on for fear of scratching them. It's the smell of soba and soy sauce. It's the open bottle of ketchup that's on the table. It's Kelsey, cooking and tasting things. It's me, weary and aching and ready to go home but not ready to leave yet.

It's the end of an era. I think I'm ready to go.